114 Near Disasters

[cal_sitter]

My mother wasn't much of a mother. Sophia. She was beautiful. Tired. Bitter. Alcoholic. She slept with a monster for money. It was always money with her. Which carnival, which trailer park, which desperate little hole in the wall could she go to next, where no one knew her and where she could hypnotize them into believing? She was a gypsy

Comments

[reginagloriae]

I'm going to see you, Leandros-san. You're sick and this curse isn't helping.

[cal_sitter]

No you aren't. I'm not going to make you ill as well.

[reginagloriae]

I didn't get ill so far. I don't think I can. You had pneumonia once. At least see a doctor!

[cal_sitter]

Can't. We don't use doctors. Rafferty isn't here, or Nushi.

[dirgingcerberus]

There is much of your story I don't understand, but you have my condolences.

[cal_sitter]

I just ... need Cal. I need to know where he is, that he's safe.

[dirgingcerberus]

You know that he is home. I can give you the assurance that time passes there slowly. This I've heard from many who have gone home and returned here. They do not notice our absence.

[cal_sitter]

He's alone. The Auphe are waiting. He hasn't reached the apartment, and the gates are opening.

[shutupsammy]

Just because you can't run anymore doesn't mean it's all over. You still got the choice of going down swinging, and hell, you might just win.

[cal_sitter]

Cal can run. He should. He should have run as soon as he felt the gates.

[shutupsammy]

Gates?

[cal_sitter]

I didn't tell you? No, I suppose I didn't. His father was Auphe. We grew up with him tapping his claws at the window, wherever we went.