paradisa | twenty

Entry tags:

agent south dakota

twenty :: text

To anyone who gives a shit, North Dakota is gone.

Filtered to Freelancers and Noble Six

He left letters. They're in his room. Have at it. Someone take the dog, I can't look at it.

[Text because she can't risk talking right now.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

There must be some way...

if you find it let me know, okay?

Surely.

May I offer you company?

maybe later. going to the city for a bit.

[Brief pause, and then,] your brother left too, right? what did you do?

I wept. [ And hid in her room for days until she felt she wouldn't just break apart if she steps out. ]

I live closer to the city now.

[South doesn't immediately respond. She hasn't cried yet, and she wonders if she ever will. She just feels a permeating numbness right now, but wonders if that's better than the crushing guilt and anger and sadness she can just barely sense underneath.]

got a house in the city already. going there now.

[Then it's off to the dark corners of the city for wild parties and debauchery!]

Call on me then, when you wish to.

[ Lucrezia thinks she can understnad, though for her part it only felt as if everything else seemed grey, dull and insignificant. But most of all she felt terribly alone. ]

i'll keep that in mind.

[Probably one of the few people she'd willingly talk to, at this point in time. Lucrezia didn't have the ties to the project, and she'd understand what South was going through better than anyone.] you make your way into the city let me know

Tomorrow morning. I will be at the flower shop.

[ To find some flowers as an excuse, but mostly not. ]

guess i could make my way there.

I will see you then.

[ ooc; do you want to action it uuup? ]

see you then.

[[ooc: sounds good to me!]]

[ When Lucrezia says morning she means closer to noon, because it takes time to put herself together, braid her hair and put on her dress (yellow for Spanish mourning). So the sun is high in the sky once she wanders into about the only flower shop spared by this year's earthquake. She goes to the chrysanthemums first, a symbol of bereavement.

Never mind that South's brother isn't dead but it certainly feels so when a departure is more final than actual death in this place. ]

[Noon is fine, because that's just about when South's waking up. She thinks she's probably missed Lucrezia, and wanders by just in case, somewhat surprised to actually find her there.]

[She's a mess, unkempt, looking tired and worn, with a cigarette perched in the corner of her mouth. The thing was, her brother most certainly had gone home to die.

It would be her fault, and there'd been nothing she could do here to stop it.]

Hey, 'morning. You look nice.

[ Lucrezia knows to smile despite the heavy feeling in her stomach at the sight of her. A mess indeed. There was a reason she hid herself when Cesare left, because she couldn't muster the effort to look nice, and the reminder leaves an ache in her chest. But still she moves closer to peck South's cheek in greeting. ]

Whenever I see your face, I remember why my brother was so taken by you.

[By now South's a little more accustomed to Lucrezia's greeting, and truth be told it was a needed gesture. Anything to pull her out of herself, even if just for a moment, was something she didn't know she would need right now.]

[She forces out a little chuckle.] I dunno if he quite liked me as much as ... the other me.

[ She reaches to rest her hand on South's arm, trying her best to comfort without saying so. ]

You were always stronger than her. He was only taken by surprise.

[It's working. Too, the idea that she was strong. She always tried, always tried too hard, and felt that North or Carolina or everyone else always got the recognition, and she just always got in trouble.]

I was?

Most certainly. [ She smiles, stepping back so she can reach for a pot of chrysanthemums for South to see. ]

How about this one?

[That's an encouraging though, and she smiles slightly, before looking at the flowers in slight surprise.]

Oh, they're nice ... for what?

Chrysanthemum is for mourning.

[ Lucrezia turns too to watch how South responds. Perhaps it's cruel, but she never prided herself on being kind. ]

[South looks at the flowers, then up at Lucrezia. It was more accurate than she could know.]

Yeah, that'll ... that'll work. [She hunches slightly more into herself, and takes a final drag from her cigarette before dropping it and stomping it out on the ground.]

But the question is, whether you wish to remember or to forget.

[She gives a bitter laugh.] Can't I do both?

[Remember him, forget it was her fault.]

[ She chuckles too, as if everything is light and good. ]

They do not always imply the other.

written

Re: written

written

written

written

written

written

written

written

written

written

written

action;

action forever!

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject