beingdifferent: (self-image)
Esther Coleman ([personal profile] beingdifferent) wrote2014-07-19 11:02 pm

Eighteenth little lie ♰ This is the story of the road that goes to my house

Has anyone been seeing unusual things? More unusual than is customary here, of course. [She turns the communicator to the mirror hanging on her wall – it’s shattered, and the reflection catches her in bizarre images. Some of the shards are much too broad, extending the shape of her face far outward. Others shrink her reflection, and a few of the larger pieces curve and warp the lines of her face, neck, and shoulders.] This does look strange to the rest of you, does it not? It’s never done that before.

[Private to Jean]
May I… [The ease with which she can talk to Ned is, while a tiny step forward, still heartening, and gives her the bravery to be honest in her request.] May I speak with you? In your professional role?

[Garden spam]
[Picking flowers from any of the beds or pots in the garden is a forbidden act. It is, Esther notes, quite a shame; the blooms are vivid and bright, quite healthy despite the odd environment they grow in, and she appreciates a nice bouquet of cut flowers. She has no intention of angering any wandering horticulturist, though, and keeps herself to the flowers growing out of the lawn.

Buttercups, daisies, dandelions – nothing exotic or beautiful, but she still harvests a great deal of them and holds them in a fold of her skirt when she settles on the grass. They won’t make a bouquet, but she can still use them to adorn her cabin, and she begins, fastidiously, weaving them into a chain.
]
to_dust: (Koni: Facepalm)

[personal profile] to_dust 2014-07-20 06:48 pm (UTC)(link)
[Seconds stretch into minutes. C'rizz lets his mind wander and his ears pick up everything-- the rustle of Esther's slight movements, the moving and murmuring of people out in the hall... footsteps above, a muffled conversation below.

Almost in a trance, he listens.

And then after about ten minutes he cracks one yellow eye, sheepishly. He's got nothing.]


...Well, the good news is that your room doesn't have ghostly laughter in it.
to_dust: By http://thebutt.dreamwidth.org/ (Default)

[personal profile] to_dust 2014-07-20 07:13 pm (UTC)(link)
Nothing-- not music or laughter or odd smells or anything people have been talking about. The more I listened, the less there was.

It's almost as if it doesn't want to be found.
to_dust: By http://thebutt.dreamwidth.org/ (Default)

[personal profile] to_dust 2014-07-21 06:40 am (UTC)(link)
[C'rizz gets to his feet and peers into the glass, trying to track down the distortions-- they're there, at the corners of his vision, but when he looks at them straight on it's only plain shattered glass.]

I don't much care for things trying to control me through fear. It's rather irritating. [There's an unusually dark edge to that mild statement.]

I'm sorry I couldn't find anything. Do you feel safe, here? If you want somewhere else to stay until it stops... well, my room's not much, but it hasn't actually got any mirrors.
to_dust: By http://thebutt.dreamwidth.org/ (Default)

[personal profile] to_dust 2014-07-21 06:59 am (UTC)(link)
No, I don't think there is. [He reaches out to gingerly lift it down-- he's strong, but just plucking it off the wall is a recipe for shards of glass everywhere.] We can wrap this in a bit of cloth, or a towel or something, put it in the closet or under the bed, and it will be as if nothing's wrong.
to_dust: (DWM: Well this is awful)

[personal profile] to_dust 2014-07-21 07:06 am (UTC)(link)
[Together, they wrap it, and C'rizz slides it carefully under the bed.]

I'm sorry to have put you out. I'll see you later-- take care, will you, Esther?