the light gave me life, helped me see more clearly (mostly closed)
Who: lumenrelegandus and thenobledie, others if you would like to meet her later in the day!
When: May 7th, late morning (and afternoon, if you'd like to pop in!)
Where: the Clinic
Format: action
What: Shirley begins working in the Clinic and linefaces at Lupin.
Warnings: n/a? Depending on any description of injuries and explicitness. Massive tl;dr, for the opening.
[it, perhaps, started for the wrong reasons. to want to be a healer for a man's love - a man that isn't here, a man that hasn't been here for ages, a man that has spent his existence in a tower and unaware of his fate. quite pointless to want his love, isn't it? but she isn't so numb to life that his disappointment hadn't hurt to the point of tears; it still hurts, really, but less so now.
in some ways, she had never been so aware of her own changes. death was not what did it; it was year after year wearing on before time blurred, and everything was gradual - but before she realized, the visitors to her shrine were rare, and the shrine itself had fallen into ruin. time had slipped by so easily; changed had slipped by so easily. it wasn't until anatole, until belzac returned a changed man, she truly realized. and it took some time, but she realized, too, it had hurt so much because she was disappointed with herself.
in a way, at least. home, she knew the fate of every person to seek her help. whether most lived or die was not a concern; death is only a beginning, and the living's fear of it is something she understands but finds ridiculous, all the same. but here, in this sphere? spirits pass to places she cannot know or follow. fate is different in this world. she should have known better before now.
and while she still has little reason to intervene, she has little reason to not to as well. it doesn't hurt to do so once or twice, to decide if she truly cares or not, to see how proud of herself she is now. because she had chosen this existence, eschewing the death city or the proper heaven, to serve a grander idea while waiting for someone to release her comrades. but she longs for what she had before, and brief spars in the ruins do not sate the need. this could, if she is still a healer at heart as much as is in art. perhaps...she is in this sphere not to continue her peace but to find a new war within herself. soa knows peace is not something she has always been deserving of, anyway.
for the second time in anatole, she wonders: when did i become so foolish? (she could perhaps start with not being so selfish and using excuses, though!)
and so, shirley enters the clinic, wearing her usual white cloak. an ill choice, probably, in a place where others bleed. but she doesn't plan to wear it for long. ...whenever she stops staring at curiously but equally unimpressed with the building. she had seen better clinics in endiness, but some objects in this one are things she does not recognize.]
When: May 7th, late morning (and afternoon, if you'd like to pop in!)
Where: the Clinic
Format: action
What: Shirley begins working in the Clinic and linefaces at Lupin.
Warnings: n/a? Depending on any description of injuries and explicitness. Massive tl;dr, for the opening.
[it, perhaps, started for the wrong reasons. to want to be a healer for a man's love - a man that isn't here, a man that hasn't been here for ages, a man that has spent his existence in a tower and unaware of his fate. quite pointless to want his love, isn't it? but she isn't so numb to life that his disappointment hadn't hurt to the point of tears; it still hurts, really, but less so now.
in some ways, she had never been so aware of her own changes. death was not what did it; it was year after year wearing on before time blurred, and everything was gradual - but before she realized, the visitors to her shrine were rare, and the shrine itself had fallen into ruin. time had slipped by so easily; changed had slipped by so easily. it wasn't until anatole, until belzac returned a changed man, she truly realized. and it took some time, but she realized, too, it had hurt so much because she was disappointed with herself.
in a way, at least. home, she knew the fate of every person to seek her help. whether most lived or die was not a concern; death is only a beginning, and the living's fear of it is something she understands but finds ridiculous, all the same. but here, in this sphere? spirits pass to places she cannot know or follow. fate is different in this world. she should have known better before now.
and while she still has little reason to intervene, she has little reason to not to as well. it doesn't hurt to do so once or twice, to decide if she truly cares or not, to see how proud of herself she is now. because she had chosen this existence, eschewing the death city or the proper heaven, to serve a grander idea while waiting for someone to release her comrades. but she longs for what she had before, and brief spars in the ruins do not sate the need. this could, if she is still a healer at heart as much as is in art. perhaps...she is in this sphere not to continue her peace but to find a new war within herself. soa knows peace is not something she has always been deserving of, anyway.
for the second time in anatole, she wonders: when did i become so foolish? (she could perhaps start with not being so selfish and using excuses, though!)
and so, shirley enters the clinic, wearing her usual white cloak. an ill choice, probably, in a place where others bleed. but she doesn't plan to wear it for long. ...whenever she stops staring at curiously but equally unimpressed with the building. she had seen better clinics in endiness, but some objects in this one are things she does not recognize.]