(Untitled)

[doesnt_speak]

Florence is a resilient woman, she always has been, even back when she had lived with the Sisters. It's something Mike has brought out of her, but it isn't one of the things he's taught her. How to handle a gun, how to be a soldier, those are things she's learned from him, but her ability to adapt comes from within and is something Mike and Tom

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[little_moons]

She's sitting there, reading so intently, lost in it, that same distant, melancholy look I've seen before on her face, so I'm almost afraid to disturb her. I hover at a distance, watching quietly, then feel weird for staring, so finally, I slide down next to her and her book, a faint smile flickering across my face.

"Hey."

[doesnt_speak]

When Neil sits down beside her, it doesn't come as a surprise. She's felt him there for almost as long as he's been watching and when he sits, she offers a faint smile in return. Hello.

For a moment, she isn't sure whether or not to close the book. It isn't something she considers private, but she doesn't know if it's something Mike or Tom would want Neil to see.

[little_moons]

"You okay?" I ask quietly, a faint line etched between my brows, and it seems like a stupid question, as soon as I ask it. She's always quiet, obviously, there's no obvious reason to think anything's wrong, but there's something different about this.

I can just sorta feel it.

[doesnt_speak]

She is okay, but at the same time, she misses what she's had. Even if she could talk, Florence expects that would be a difficult thing to communicate and so she nods, then shrugs.

Yes. I don't know. Sometimes.

Her hand smooths over the picture she's just recently flipped to. The Hand of God. She misses it.

[m_pinocchio]

He spots her from the path and walks over to her, and he doesn't have to take more than a cursory look to know what she's reading. He sighs, half exasperated and half affectionate, and leans against the wall, sliding down to sit beside her.

It isn't exasperation at her. It's the book. It's everything he can't be, now.

"I've heard people say they can read the same books and get different shit outta them every time. That true here?"

[doesnt_speak]

Smiling, Florence closes the book carefully, laying a hand on the front as she shakes her head. There's nothing new to gather, no change to the way the words are written, no hidden meaning that's suddenly clear to her and that is the beauty of the story she's holding in her hands. She knows it as well as she knows Mike himself.

Holding the book out to him, she lifts her eyebrows. Maybe you should see if you get something new.

[m_pinocchio]

"I don't like reading stories about myself," he says, glancing at the book and away again. This is one thing he's still uneasy with. A path he can't take now. A path he doesn't even want anymore, when it used to be everything to him.

"That fuckin' show was enough."

[doesnt_speak]

That's a difference between them, she thinks, and it's one she's grateful for. Even though it pains her a little, knowing their prophecy might never play out, she knows this place is better for Mike.

Settling the book down against her legs once more, she nods her understanding.

[polly_okeefe]

As I head home after a long day (preschool, and more helping out in the kitchen), I slow a bit, then stop to see the familiar figure sitting up against the wall. I smiled. Long time no see.

I called to her from the pathway as I came closer. "Hello, Florence. Nice night?"

[doesnt_speak]

Before she can see Polly, Florence can hear her, and she lifts her gaze from the book, watching the path as she comes into view. At the sound of her question, Florence smiles and nods, because it is. All the nights here are beautiful and quiet, peaceful in a way she's never known. It's one of the many things she truly does love about the island.

[polly_okeefe]

I'm reminded again of how much of an effort it was to maintain a conversation with Florence. Worth it, but an effort nonetheless. And, for some reason, it's hard to share a silence with someone who doesn't speak. I feel a little awkward just standing there, and I think of something to fill the silence. "What are you reading?"

[doesnt_speak]

Florence thinks she's shown the scripture to Polly before and so she feels relatively comfortable turning the book toward her, the words and pictures etched carefully onto each page. It's her own personal Bible that not only gives her comfort, but tells her story.

[out_of_realm]

Tom spotted her from a distance, Flo in his arms and Mack tottering ahead of him with blind determination. There was a lot of Eostre in the girls in different ways, but there was a likeness to Florence, too. There wasn't anything in the world so solemn as Flo when she was trying to understand something new.

"Hey Auntie," Tom said, giving her a wide, brilliant grin. "Don't suppose that's a picture book for the girls, is it?"

[doesnt_speak]

For all the things she misses about Harsh Realm, Florence knows she would give up every one of them a hundred times over to hear Tom sound so happy for the rest of his life. She smiles in return, watching him as he comes nearer with the girls, then shakes her head.

The book is closed and set aside. She knows he and Mike aren't particularly fond of it and she can look at it later.

[out_of_realm]

Mack had wandered away to explore the nearby flowers, but Flo squirmed expertly out of Tom's arms and tottered up to Florence, giggling and saying, "Flo!" like she never got over how funny it was that they almost shared a name.

Tom quirked an eyebrow when she set aside the book, but he didn't mention it. What wasn't seen and what wasn't heard was sometimes all you needed.

"How've you been?"

[doesnt_speak]

Scooping Flo up into her lap, Florence smiles brightly at the little girl, a wider, more genuine smile than she ever gives anyone else, then looks up at Tom. Years in her world and she'd never imagined a life like this.

Good. She nods and offers a smile, then gestures for him to sit with her. Arching an eyebrow at the book, she shrugs as well. Missing some things.

[dumbassbastards]

"Slow day, huh?" says Rollie when he arrives, watching her flip through her book. She's shown it to him before, and he knows her place in it, but the whole idea is still kind of alien to him. "I guess that means there's probably no trauma case inside waiting for me."

[doesnt_speak]

Shaking her head, Florence gestures around them at the empty clearing and the only sound is the call of a bird before it flies away. Looking back at Rollie, she arches an eyebrow, then huffs out a sigh. She isn't bored, really, but she wouldn't mind patching someone up.

Closing the book, she studies Rollie, then nods at the place beside her.

[dumbassbastards]

"Sure, why not/" he says, carefully lowering himself down to the ground next to her. Just because he spends his days chasing around after a kid doesn't mean all the parts are in smooth working order. "So, feeling a little homesick there?"

[doesnt_speak]

With a nod, Florence smooths a hand over the book, then looks up to meet Rollie's gaze. He might not believe the same things she does, but because he's from a different world, she both understands and accepts it. She also knows she doesn't have the same feelings toward the book that Mike and Tom do, making it easier to admit.

Spreading her hands out in front of her, she gives them a meaningful look, then glances back at Rollie. I miss this.