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Post by Pockette on Feb 24, 2013 21:10:50 GMT -5
What had it been, a week maybe? Eden hadn't seen much of Silas since their "talk", and honestly and large pasrt of hr wanted to forget about it. She wanted to forget about waking up under a pier, and about showering at a stranger's house. She wanted to forget that vulnerability, and now she was severing the last shred of the insanity she had. True, there was no getting rid of this curse. There would never be a "normal" the way it had been for the first 20 years of her life, give or take. Now, all she had to do to get back to the normal of the past three years of her life was to return the borrowed clothes.
It was stupid really. She didn't want to give them up. Silas was the first person to understand her. The first wolf she'd met while human. She knew, vaguley, that she'd met others in her other form. The feral beast lived for being social, or so she thought. There was always a scent that lingered that wasn't her, and it was often different. She hated it, but had no control. Pushing the thought form he rmind, she knocked on Silas' door. He'd probably be at work. A knot formed in her gut that slowly released butterflies like a time-release pill. Here she was standing at a stranger's door with his clothes because he'd found her shambling through the streets a week ago.
Yes, because that's how normal worked.
So she stood there and knocked again.
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Post by Matthias Walker on Feb 25, 2013 16:11:46 GMT -5
It is not the first time that Matthias has found himself at Silas sans Silas, and he suspects it will not be the last, either: The ever-variable schedule of doctors makes it extraordinarily difficult to coax Silas into concrete plans at the best of times, and Mattie is far too lazy to leave five minutes after arriving, empty apartment or not. (And if he still half-hopes that Silas will come back early and he can take Silas hunting like he had promised instead of going alone, well, that isn’t something Mattie is going to share so easily.) Morning finds him curled like a cat on Silas’s couch, reading through the book of poems Silas had given him, eyes half-lidded in contentment, and he has every intention of staying until lunchtime rolls around and hunger forces him up.
Except that it is a knock on the door, not hunger, that startles him out of his reading.
Mattie jerks up, blinks owlishly in the direction of the door, bemused and a little irritated, and finally uncurls reluctantly: It will be Zander, he expects, looking for Silas and timing it wrong again, or the mailman here to replace the things that the wolves used as chew toys the last go-round, or—
—or some random girl, standing like a castaway on Silas’s doorstep, clutching a bundle of clothing in her arms. Matthias blinks at her, utterly bewildered, one hand stopping the door in its opening arc. She’s pretty enough, young, but Mattie prides himself on recognizing the prominent people in Silas’s life and she is not, as far as he knows, one of them: She is not a nurse at the hospital, nor does Silas make a habit of making new friends off the street on a regular basis, nor has Silas mentioned the existence of some girl in the past weeks.
“I’m starting to learn not to be surprised by strays turning up on Silas’s doorstep,” he says, in lieu of hello or something, and arches an eyebrow at her, “He’s at the hospital right now. Was it urgent or did you…” A loose gesture at the bundle of clothing, “Just get really into dry cleaning or something? He should be back in a couple hours, but I can take a message or something, I don’t—wow, I really did not sign up to be a fucking doorman. Hi, I’m Matthias, what’s your name?” |
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Post by Pockette on Mar 3, 2013 18:57:20 GMT -5
She couldn't help it.
"I am not a stray," Eden replied, a slight sharpness in her voice. The rest of his mesage both confused her and annoyed her. It was difficult for Eden to imagine Silas associating with this...the woman failed to form an opinion.
"Eden," she answered, "And I am simply returning some clothes he let me borrow." She tried not to let the man's rudeness get to her. It wasn't like she'd asked him to be a doorman, but perhaps that had been a side comment to himself?She didn't know, and she'd try not to care. Still clutching the clothes in her arms, she wasn't quite sure what to do now. A good part of her wanted to stay. She didn't have anywehre to go and this man knew Silas so maybe he could answer some of her lingering questions. Despite his rude overture (at least to her) he seemed nice enough.
"I can come back at a more convenient time," was all she said. Or she could wrap the clothes and put them in his mailbox. Somehow stuffing them in his mailbox and never seeing him again except to bump into him seemed counter-productive. She had finally found a way to find answers to this...condition. Perhaps these people knew of a cure...or at least of a search for a cure. She looked at Matthias, the ball is in your court.
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