and finally, it seemed the spell was broken (open)
Who: thenobledie and other...people...
When: W E L P. Primarily, September 21st and on but as far back as September 18th, too. I guess. Whatever, ANY DATE.
Where: the Clinic
Format: Do yo' thang, bb. Do yo' thang.
What: okok, so. Malfatto drops Shirley off at the clinic on September 18th. SHE IS COMATOSE UNTIL THE 21ST (Arthur will be playing Prince Charming ( Read more... )
When: W E L P. Primarily, September 21st and on but as far back as September 18th, too. I guess. Whatever, ANY DATE.
Where: the Clinic
Format: Do yo' thang, bb. Do yo' thang.
What: okok, so. Malfatto drops Shirley off at the clinic on September 18th. SHE IS COMATOSE UNTIL THE 21ST (Arthur will be playing Prince Charming ( Read more... )
Comments 92
Honestly, if you weren't the type to ignore all your messages, that would have been a far easier guessing game.
[ Arthur must come in half a dozen times a day. Sometimes ducking in before his patrol shift, other days bringing paperwork and just sitting with her, in the chair beside her bed, quill scratching away. And sometimes, when there's no-one else around, he speaks to her. ]
I don't know why I'm here. It's not as though we're particularly good friends.
[ A lie. He knows exactly why he's here. And he knows that he's drawn to Shirley, perhaps in a if-things-were-different sort of way the root of which lies with a ten year old boy who thought she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. ]
[ She looks ethereally beautiful now, skin almost as pale as the crisp linen where it's not marred, hair a shock against the pillow, all fine bones and traceries of blue veins. The room smells like jasmine and wildflowers and, being that he's there in his chainmail, metal and ( ... )
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but rose is comrade and sister and lost soul. he is?
(her head aches in her temples and behind her eyelids.) ]
Arthur.
[ shirley might have said more, but her mouth is dry, and her voice is raw. beneath the sheets, her feet move, muscles flexing. it's followed by the tiny sounds of joints cracking. (first, her toes. then, her whole foot. then, her ankles.) ]
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[ A glimmer of vulnerability - three days, after all - and then it's gone. But he still looks happy. Arthur has no idea of Shirley trying to remember, the effort it takes just to speak his name, and he has no idea what to do at bedsides even though he's sat more than his share in his short life. Should he call for Remus or Raphael or some other assistance? Probably. Instead he lifts the pitcher of water universally common to hospital rooms and pours her a glass of cold water. ]
You must be thirsty.
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when she's had enough: ]
How long was I -?
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Her home is full of ghosts even when all the ghosts have gone. Even with the door closed she could feel the emptiness, the lack of presence in the other room - open, closed and open again - it hadn't made a damn bit of difference.
What had made a difference was coming here.
She's brought a different mug each day, today's is particularly ridiculous. The coffee's gone cold by now, and her own mug is empty.]
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[ a declaration to herself. she doesn't particularly mind either way of all the gifts that have been brought - no different than hopes to please her in exchange for life. (she misses her shrine, quiet and peaceful, where the magic that hangs in the air isn't terrible and foul. only hers and the creatures that have claimed her home as theirs, too.) but shirley is curious who has visited so often with familiarity and hope. ]
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[Her voice is--
--when did it get so raw? Six cups of coffee and it still sounds like gravel. Clearing her throat and eyeing the pixie twined in Shirley's hair.
That hair - those same locks that had been on that broadcast, she's sure of it now. But that doesn't matter so much either. What matters is that she's here and she's awake and---
---oh, is she standing up now? She guesses she is.
There are a multitude of things she wants to say - can't think of words for half of them. Folds her arms tightly to hide the fact that her fingers are trembling and:]
Would you believe I was going to bring the cats?
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Do they miss me, then?
[ or have they attached themselves like the pixie she has found close to her cheek? ]
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And then she's still.]
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At some point she'll shift to her side, drawing into a loose ball - fingers curling against her cheek.
At a much later point, days
[ooc: i will do a wakeuppylog whenever you guys wish! if you wish!]
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[ He doesn't bring tribute, or anything to do - it was just going to be a check in. But the stillness of the woman in the doorway tells him all he needs to know without even having to see Shirley's still-closed eyes. ]
[ He clears his throat anyway. ]
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Changing of the guard?
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[ Other things to do. A life. But that seems tactless, here. ]
[ But no matter how Shirley is, they are still alive. Arthur comes to stand next to her. ]
You all right?
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"Why didn't you tell me?" he said, in spite of himself. "Maybe I could have helped."
"It wasn't your burden to bear," she answered. "You have enough of those. Of your own and of others'."
"You still should have asked."
She tilted her head so slightly, enough that some light fell upon it…
His chest tightened and said to Lily, "It should have been me you asked-"
Something made him start in his chair. His head came up from his chest. He hadn't realised he'd nodded off. Though his eyes had never left Shirley's face. She seems so small, asleep, as she never once did awake.
But she's not asleep, now; she's wincing at the sunlight. Still blinking away delusion, Lupin stretches his hand toward the window. In reaction to the motion of his fingertips, the drapes pull themselves closed.]
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Ah - you are Remus, then.
[ how many people will she find by this bedside, she wonders. it's startling - maybe that's why she fell asleep again. maybe. she isn't sure, and shirley just rolls with whatever comes her way. ]
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