(Untitled)

Nov 12, 2010 13:46

People come and go. Things keep growing. It's the kind of constant he thinks he's always taken a kind of comfort in, even before Eostre, even in the Realm, where stunted life beat its own path through most places regardless of what was thrown at it or how much it was stepped on. There's a kind of fatalism in it, probably, a sense that it works that ( Read more... )

kara

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frakkup November 13 2010, 23:23:07 UTC
Kara brushed her hands through Calliope's hair. Her daughter was asleep in the middle of the bed, the fifth Kara had occupied since arriving on the island years ago. She wondered if she belonged in it, inside the hut's walls at all, if she even belonged on the island itself, but she must. No matter who left, Kara always stayed behind. It wasn't a truth she'd come to accept with grace, but it was truth, settled heavy on Kara's shoulders and in the deep circles beneath her eyes.

She scrubbed her fingertips over them now, willing the redness away until she could go outside. She wasn't surprised to find Mike in the garden, and for a long time she only watched, wondering at the peace he seemed to find in it. When her back began to ache, Kara came closer, sitting at the soil's edge. "Girls look happy," she says, watching them at their play.

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m_pinocchio November 14 2010, 00:42:51 UTC
He looks up again at the sound of her voice, pausing with the trowel in his hand and glancing back toward his daughters. Flo lifts a toy whale into the air, moving it as though it's swimming and letting out a loud giggle.

"Yeah," he says, looking back at Kara and giving her a faint smile. "They do." His gaze flicks back to the house. "Yours doing okay?"

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frakkup November 17 2010, 20:52:51 UTC
"Sleeping," said Kara. It was as close to okay as she could hope for. Calliope's father disappeared on her first birthday, and she'd forgotten John quickly, but she was three years old now, and Cas...

"Keeps asking for him."

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m_pinocchio November 17 2010, 21:10:59 UTC
"Yeah," he says simply. Because they do. It had taken the girls a couple of weeks to really understand, as much as they even could, that asking wasn't going to bring anyone back.

He glances back at the girls, his smile twisting into something faintly sad. "Kids are resilient. I think they're better at bouncing back than we are, most of the time."

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frakkup November 18 2010, 05:45:19 UTC
"They never disappear." As long as their parents remained behind, it seemed like the children born on the island were meant to stay. Why couldn't it be the same for the rest of them? Maybe Kara didn't belong here, but she wanted to, as long as she had Calliope she'd always want to. "You notice that?"

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m_pinocchio November 18 2010, 18:57:52 UTC
He digs the trowel into the dirt again, making a cozy little space for the bulb at his side. Found and carried from deeper in the jungle, its flowers glow a delicate blue, almost a match for the dawn flowers over the house's doorway. "I did, yeah." He looks up at her again. "I dunno why. Fucking rules. Who knows?" Ineffable as anything else.

"But at least I don't have to worry about them getting taken away from me." Not like that, anyway.

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frakkup November 22 2010, 21:03:52 UTC
No, just Neil or Tom. Kara didn't snort, but that was entirely due to fatigue and not some suddenly acquired grace. "Thanks for, uh..." She stuck her hand in the dirt, pushing at it uselessly. "Thanks for letting us crash for a while. It's better for her."

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m_pinocchio November 22 2010, 21:27:25 UTC
He gives her a half shrug, a crooked smile. "Not a problem." And what are people for? If not this? Not a whole hell of a lot, he thinks, and the only reason he's still here now is that other people have helped make a place for him.

He settles the bulb into the depression, gently covering it. "Just her?"

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frakkup November 24 2010, 18:40:13 UTC
Kara closed her rolling eyes, as embarrassed by her own inability to be openly grateful as by the sick, pathetic weight of the gratitude itself. If Neil hadn't asked her she might've run here, away from her own empty hut and away from the bottles she might find elsewhere, and she didn't know where she'd have gone if the rest of Neil's family hadn't taken her in.

"And me." Castiel's memory felt like a slice cut through the island, a dull, muted pain in Kara's heart she couldn't grab hold of. "Gets too quiet when people go."

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m_pinocchio November 27 2010, 19:05:44 UTC
"Wasn't trying to pull your teeth out," he says, again gentle, reaching out and briefly covering her hand with his. He's not sure how the contact will be taken, but at this point he's probably beyond caring much. "And I know. Believe me, I fucking know it. And I know it's no help and you know it anyway, but it'll get better."

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frakkup November 30 2010, 18:14:53 UTC
Kara knew she was far frakking gone when even the simplest kindness made her want to cry. She kept her stinging eyes closed, reaching up to brush at the corners as she nodded. "Just let me know when you're tired of me," she said, leaning forward to think of something, anything else. "What are you planting?"

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m_pinocchio November 30 2010, 20:44:36 UTC
"Will do," he says, looking back down at the churned earth, because looking at her just now feels a little too much like scrutiny, and he knows how much it might make him squirm.

He shrugs. "Not sure what it's called. I find shit out in the jungle, bring it back here sometimes." He touches one of the little blue flowers. "Sometimes it does well. Most of the time, maybe."

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