(no subject)
WHO: Lucretia Crescent and Vincent Valentine.
WHAT: Reunion for past and future versions.
WHERE: Wherever there happens to be a high clock tower in a city garden.
WHEN: Around this entry.
She had seen the tower on numerous occasions. It was visible from most points in the city, where ever there was a break from the rooftops or a pause between alleyways. Altogether, it wasn't an incredible structure. Nothing like the palace or the detailed gardens surrounding the restricted grounds. But now it was more important than any edifice she could have ever thought of or recalled, from that city itself or otherwise. The long ebony hands of the clock tower marked the time to be half past three. A faint glow, barely present, outlined the edges of the sky and their impending twilight. But for all intents and purposes, given the middle of the still dark dotted with golden path lights, everything was hushed. Only the sounds of her vermilion heels clicking against the pavement in her run, and then her breathing, permeated the muted sounds of crickets and cicadas hiding all around.
She had left the house immediately, making a quick, albeit untidy, note in her journal even as she ran. In her rush she had left her white lab coat behind, but luckily the discreet pocket at the left of her skirt was enough to harbor the small journal temporarily. Her mind was filled with memories and ideas, voices and words, all of which encouraged her and held her back. In the end she still made it to the appointed destination.
No matter if it was right or wrong to meet him again, like this, she just wanted to see him. That was all she could tell herself if she wanted to stay, and what kept her searching when she didn't see him immediately. Maybe he had thought she meant inside of the clock tower? Or above it? Her anticipatory hope swelled once more when the handle of the door behind the tower gave away to a wooden staircase within. She didn't even bother to close it before racing up the steps along the dark corridors, spiraling up to the second portal that lay above. Even if he wasn't there, yet, she could see more. Perhaps clear her head. And even in her rush or over uneven ground, there was no doubting those red heels.
WHAT: Reunion for past and future versions.
WHERE: Wherever there happens to be a high clock tower in a city garden.
WHEN: Around this entry.
She had seen the tower on numerous occasions. It was visible from most points in the city, where ever there was a break from the rooftops or a pause between alleyways. Altogether, it wasn't an incredible structure. Nothing like the palace or the detailed gardens surrounding the restricted grounds. But now it was more important than any edifice she could have ever thought of or recalled, from that city itself or otherwise. The long ebony hands of the clock tower marked the time to be half past three. A faint glow, barely present, outlined the edges of the sky and their impending twilight. But for all intents and purposes, given the middle of the still dark dotted with golden path lights, everything was hushed. Only the sounds of her vermilion heels clicking against the pavement in her run, and then her breathing, permeated the muted sounds of crickets and cicadas hiding all around.
She had left the house immediately, making a quick, albeit untidy, note in her journal even as she ran. In her rush she had left her white lab coat behind, but luckily the discreet pocket at the left of her skirt was enough to harbor the small journal temporarily. Her mind was filled with memories and ideas, voices and words, all of which encouraged her and held her back. In the end she still made it to the appointed destination.
No matter if it was right or wrong to meet him again, like this, she just wanted to see him. That was all she could tell herself if she wanted to stay, and what kept her searching when she didn't see him immediately. Maybe he had thought she meant inside of the clock tower? Or above it? Her anticipatory hope swelled once more when the handle of the door behind the tower gave away to a wooden staircase within. She didn't even bother to close it before racing up the steps along the dark corridors, spiraling up to the second portal that lay above. Even if he wasn't there, yet, she could see more. Perhaps clear her head. And even in her rush or over uneven ground, there was no doubting those red heels.