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       #Post#: 688--------------------------------------------------
       Re: [From Tapestry] Throwing Knives
       By: Chance Date: January 7, 2025, 2:11 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [float=right max=45%][img
       width=300]
  HTML https://anywhere.infinimata.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/trey012.jpg[/img][/float]
       Trey Whitman
  HTML https://anywhere.infinimata.com/ooc-info/staff/chance/trey-whitman-2/
       The door was open and the wind appeared
       The candles blew and then disappeared
       The curtains flew and then he appeared
       App 3 | Dex 5 [Swift] | Echoes [Cold Aura] | Ambidextrous
       [hr]
       I try to be trustworthy. I may be a murderer, but I'm an honest
       one, and I never do so without cause. The small bits of truth
       that are creeping out of her explanations are making me wonder
       if it's time to sharpen my knives again. A whole marabout might
       be too much for me to take on by myself, though... something to
       consider. But then, death doesn't frighten me. Stagnation as I
       am frightens me far more than dying trying to do something
       worthy.
       but, it is best I find the whole of the story before I make up
       my mind what to do, no matter that the righteous side of me is
       screaming for justice, and for the suffering that must have led
       them to making someone so young into a captive.
       The contact does surprise me, but in a good way. She's warmer
       than I am, comfortably so despite her own chill and the storm
       that must have birthed her into the main room of the Anywhere
       Café.
       Her smile warms me, too. To know she can still find humor in
       life shows me that she's wounded, but not broken, by what's
       happened. The last thing I would want is to save someone only to
       have to return her to the Wheel. That thought is quickly
       discarded, though -- she wants her life, wants to be free-willed
       and independent even if she can't find words to say it right
       now. Time. I have all of it that I need.
       "Math teacher," I answer with laughter. "And at the time, I
       didn't look quite so dashing. I looked... like a Math teacher.
       Though my pants always covered my ankles." A little smirk
       follows. I didn't look or feel like the same person back then; I
       was wound up in the mathematics of chaos back then, trying to
       surmise it all through some logical premise rather than the more
       primal truth of being a chthonic deity in miniature.
       Her comment makes me chuckle warmly. "If you ever want to try
       math again, I'll be happy to help." I grin at the boldness, and
       her shy withdrawal makes me just ease the smile down a notch to
       something a little more comforting. This young woman is a
       mystery to me, and I expect she will be for a while, assuming
       she doesn't choose to find her old home again.
       I'm voting for staying in Chicago at Tapestry, but I don't get a
       vote, really.
       Monica returns and she's done wonders in a short time. I beam at
       her and say, "Thank you. It's really kind of you to help--"
       Monica replies, "We take care of our own here," and places the
       mugs before us. It smells delicious, and for a moment, funereal.
       The scent reminds me of offerings given over graves to ask me to
       show mercy on dead loved ones. Cinnamon wasn't a common herb
       among the Rus; having it was a sign of wealth, and as such, it
       was offered to me often, in my guise as the god of wealth, once
       upon a time. Even when I was demoted to a mere saint in the
       Orthodox church, the dvoevorie, double-faith, led people to
       offer me rare herbs in prayer.
       "There's nothing to be paid, Kaelin," I tell her quietly. "We
       all survive with the help of others, much as many today believe
       that everyone has to be self-sufficient. In time, you'll find
       yourself in a similar position, and I have the distinct feeling
       you'll do the same thing."
       She asks about being in Arizona, and I have to think over 80
       years of life, trying to recall if I ever was. "I... don't think
       so? I don't remember being there before. I know of a group of
       Verbena there, but not much else about them. Just that they
       exist. It's not exactly a harmonious mix, my tradition and
       theirs. Our views are so often opposed that... well, it can be
       awkward." I find myself studying her, wondering what it is about
       me that she feels is so close to her recall. I am pretty sure
       I'd remember meeting her, if I had.
       "I'll admit, you feel familiar to me in some way, as well,
       but... not in a way I can quantify. More like... what might have
       been than what was, if that makes sense." And even I am not sure
       where the hell this is coming from.
       #Post#: 689--------------------------------------------------
       Re: [From Tapestry] Throwing Knives
       By: thesadiecat Date: January 7, 2025, 5:40 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [float=right max=45%][img
       width=300]
  HTML https://sharedalbums.b-cdn.net/b0934f00-8277-4ea2-8260-445b0a415eb4.jpg[/img][/float][center]Kaelin<br
       />Saint
       Now winter has come and I stand in the snow
       I don't feel the cold
       And it's all that I will ever need to believe
       One day I know we will meet again
       In shade of a life to die for
       [hr]
       Persephone Incarnate[/center]
       [hr]
       I shouldn’t be thinking about how much fun math could actually
       be learning from him.  Trying to picture him as a nerdy math
       teacher, with pocket protector and glasses, just fails me.
       Instead, unbidden, comes a brief impression of him striding
       bare-chested through a barren tundra.  Thankfully the thought
       occurred while my face was still hidden, and is dispelled with a
       silent scolding.  There is no harm in appreciating.. but I can’t
       be having those kinds of thoughts right now.
       Both Monica and Trey assure me that there is no debt to be paid.
       But Trey adds on that he’s sure I will do for another what is
       being done for me, here and now.  I can only hope so, pray that
       I’ll have the faith and strength in myself to help another.
       I cradle the mug in both hands, wrapping my fingers around the
       warm ceramic to bask in the heat.  Cinnamon with a touch of
       honey is sure to warm me from the inside out.  Being wet and
       cold is miserable; being simply cold, is often welcome,
       comforting.  My ancient domain was often cold…
       Am I disappointed that he does not recall being in Arizona?
       Maybe a little.  It would have been an easy explanation.  But
       it’s his thoughts on the Verbena that catch a little more of my
       attention.  Now I’m watching him over the rim of my tea mug.
       “Really?  I find them essential and complimentary, the flipped
       coin to our ways.  Life and Death forever in a cycle; the Wheel
       as it spins… Above, Below, Above, Below.”  And a part of myself
       that has been sorely neglected these last two years.  I lower my
       lashes and hide the slightest of frowns behind a sip of tea.
       The memory of my destroyed garden sours the edges of my freedom;
       it had been the punishment for my first failed attempt to leave.
       “Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter… Rebirth, Life, Descent, Death…
       The sacred cycle.”  I raise my eyes again to him, lowering the
       mug to rest in my lap.
       Now that I’m warming from both within and without, I find that
       the wet clothes are uncomfortably cold.  I suppress a shiver,
       curling my toes against the floor.  I adjust the towel laid over
       my lap as a distraction from the conflicting emotions that
       surge.  The recognition isn’t on my part alone.  There is
       something intangible that’s here.
       “That makes… no sense.”  The soft laugh is indulgent though.
       “Why does it have to be something that might have been?  Why
       can’t it be something that might be?”  What innocent conviction
       I have.  I try to tame the unruly drying curls while I try to
       explain.  “I was called to the caves, during conditions that no
       one in their right mind would follow me … to find a door, that I
       asked to take me anywhere… anywhere but where I was.  It brought
       me here.  To meet you.  I stopped believing in coincidences the
       first time a flower bud opened under my touch.  I’m not going to
       believe this is coincidence now…”
       One hand continues to cradle the mug, while the other pulls his
       jacket tighter around me once more.  “I don’t ever want to go
       back… but I don’t know where to go from here.  I never planned
       much beyond the dream of escape.”
       #Post#: 690--------------------------------------------------
       Re: [From Tapestry] Throwing Knives
       By: Chance Date: January 7, 2025, 6:08 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [float=right max=45%][img
       width=300]
  HTML https://anywhere.infinimata.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/11/trey001.jpg[/img][/float]
       Trey Whitman
  HTML https://anywhere.infinimata.com/ooc-info/staff/chance/trey-whitman-2/
       The door was open and the wind appeared
       The candles blew and then disappeared
       The curtains flew and then he appeared
       App 3 | Dex 5 [Swift] | Echoes [Cold Aura] | Ambidextrous
       [hr]
       A barren tundra, perhaps... once upon a lifetime long ago, when
       I was still a god with active worship. Though that has come to
       pass again, in smaller ways. The Reconstructionist pagans have
       come back to the Old Ways, in their own ways. Not perfectly on
       the mark, but still, the power and presence are undeniable when
       they offer their faith on the winds of the spirit-world.
       Debts... I don't see a debt here. I think she may see me as
       kinder than I might actually be, but time will tell, and I don't
       feel inclined to ruin those beliefs right now. She's suffered
       already, why take away what faith she has right now? A quieter
       part of me murmurs something about not wanting to spoil things,
       but I tell it firmly to shut the hell up right now because this
       is not the time for selfish thoughts.
       "The truth is, many of the Verbena don't like to admit that what
       the Euthanatos do is needed. Or perhaps, they don't want to
       dirty their hands, which I can understand. It is all a part of
       the same cycle, yes. While I have no real skill with the living
       part of the equation, I recognize that it is important. It's
       just not my focus, but that doesn't make it any less important."
       A pause. "Not all of us are very wise. Likely, me included," I
       add ruefully.
       Her question makes me smile, more rue in the gesture, and reply,
       "Well... I don't know where that came from, to be honest. Maybe
       it was a song lyric I remembered or something. It just felt... I
       don't know how to explain it. True, but... like an echo. Or
       maybe I'm the echo? For a Euthanatos, I'm not always good at
       predicting outcomes. But... coincidence is just another way of
       saying 'I don't understand how chance works.' I don't really
       believe in coincidence, but I also know that not everything has
       a larger meaning. Sometimes it's a common thread of causality,
       or..."
       Annoyed at myself, I wave off that thought and try again.
       "It just feels like this is where I should be in the moment. I
       know that I came here on a whim, which might have been random or
       might not. I mean, tonight of all nights was the first time I
       chose to visit the Cafe. It could have been yesterday or
       tomorrow, but it wasn't."
       And now she brings to like the hard questions, and I offer her
       as comforting an expression as I can. "Well, when you're caged,
       it's hard to know what lies beyond the bars. I think all you
       will need is a place to be while you figure things out. I can
       help with that. I mean, if you want to stay here, I know they
       rent the rooms, or I can offer you my spare room, which is a bit
       cluttered with stuff but otherwise decent."
       #Post#: 691--------------------------------------------------
       Re: [From Tapestry] Throwing Knives
       By: thesadiecat Date: January 7, 2025, 8:02 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [float=right max=45%][img
       width=300]
  HTML https://sharedalbums.b-cdn.net/f34f7aa2-9c6d-4767-ae1c-81eb438d61a8.jpg[/img][/float][center]Kaelin<br
       />Saint
       Now winter has come and I stand in the snow
       I don't feel the cold
       And it's all that I will ever need to believe
       One day I know we will meet again
       In shade of a life to die for
       [hr]
       Persephone Incarnate[/center]
       [hr]
       For a few moments, I consider telling him.  About my first
       teachers, my first initiation, during the warming days of Spring
       and into the deepest heats of the Summer, learning at the feet
       of the desert witch.  But, ultimately I decide against it.  I
       can’t disappoint him if I say nothing of the matter.  There are
       months yet before I return to my spring, before this ghostly
       wraith in the mirror flushes with breath of life again.  I don’t
       dislike any of my cycles, but autumn and winter have always been
       the hardest on us.  My smile is melancholic and sad as I study
       the warm depths of my tea.  It’s sobering when you realize just
       how strange you are to others.
       “There’s wisdom in recognizing the importance, even if it’s
       outside your ken.”  I turn the handle of my mug slowly sunwise,
       thinking for a moment on the cycle of seasons and how strange it
       is to find myself free in the depths of my Wintertime.  And to
       be found by someone that speaks so profoundly to my winterself.
       The realization is sharp: I don’t feel like a stranger in my own
       skin right now.
       His feelings on the matter are parallel to mine, but holding
       less deep of a meaning.  I catch myself in the midst of a
       shiver, and only just barely manage to not slosh the tea over my
       lap.  I’m warming up, but my clothes are lagging behind.
       Regardless of our feelings on coincidence and chance, this has
       happened.  We are here.  We’ve met.  I don’t think I’ll ever be
       able to rid myself of the memory of his eyes.  Even if this is
       the only time our paths ever cross.
       “I’m glad you were here… that I got to meet you… that kindness
       is not dead.”  It’s my honest truth spoken.  I don’t know what
       kind of panic would have ensued if someone unfamiliar had
       attempted to help.  Even if we can’t define why, this echo of
       familiarity as he calls it, has been a blessing for me tonight.
       “Rent?”  I actually take a larger look around the cafe finally.
       Perhaps really taking in the establishment for the first time
       with clear eyes, and attention that is not colored by panic or
       confusion.  Where did he say this place was?  The Horizon?
       Whatever that is…  I’m certainly not in Attica; I suspect I’m
       not on Earth, even.  My chest aches with rising panic, as I
       realize that I don’t know how to leave here, even if I wanted
       to.  Biting my lower lip, I start shaking my head slowly.
       “No… no.. maybe just to change, and finish drying off… but… I
       can’t stay here.  I don’t know…”  Here, finally, I look back at
       Trey, ice-blue eyes wide and vulnerable.  “I don’t know how to
       leave…”
       #Post#: 697--------------------------------------------------
       Re: [From Tapestry] Throwing Knives
       By: Chance Date: January 8, 2025, 12:20 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [float=right max=45%][img
       width=300]
  HTML https://anywhere.infinimata.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/trey012-300x300.jpg[/img][/float]
       Trey Whitman
  HTML https://anywhere.infinimata.com/ooc-info/staff/chance/trey-whitman-2/
       The door was open and the wind appeared
       The candles blew and then disappeared
       The curtains flew and then he appeared
       App 3 | Dex 5 [Swift] | Echoes [Cold Aura] | Ambidextrous
       [hr]
       Her strangeness might not be so strange to me, given that she
       fits into a cycle and finds balance, but... I don't know this,
       not yet. Soon, perhaps?
       "Well, it just follows. All things have their places. I just
       dislike when I see people who don't try to see the broader
       picture. Sometimes I wish I could do what they do, but thus far,
       I can't." My own command of living magics is nonexistent. With
       the dead and the spirit world, I'm quite skilled, but when it
       comes to affecting living flesh... not so much. I've never even
       been able to work the perceptual magics for it.
       Maybe someday, if I can recover my stolen pieces of Avatar, I
       can try to overcome that shortcoming.
       Despite myself, my pale skin flushes a bit with the praise. "I
       try," I tell her quietly. "I just don't often get to help the
       living. Mostly, it's the dead. This is as unexpected to me as
       you, I suspect." There's a balance here, too. There is more to
       her than I see; somehow, I know this. There is much more yet to
       be revealed. It's best not to expect anything more, though -- if
       nothing else, though, I'll have a short time to get to know her.
       "Oh, please don't panic. This is a safe place, and yeah, it's
       outside the mundane plane, but there's an easy way to get back
       to Earth. Just through a portal." On that tray was also a coin
       that will allow her to return as she wills it, though she may
       not have made the connection.
       "One of the places the portals here will take you is my home
       chantry in Chicago. And if you want to accept that offer of a
       spare room, I'll help you settle in. Take you out tomorrow to
       get you some more clothes and other necessities. We can figure
       out the long term once you've had a chance to just... get used
       to being free."
       I hrm. "Tomorrow? Maybe later today, I forgot how late it was
       when I came here. Sun's probably coming up in Chicago right
       now."
       #Post#: 702--------------------------------------------------
       Re: [From Tapestry] Throwing Knives
       By: thesadiecat Date: January 8, 2025, 8:05 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [float=right max=45%][img
       width=300]
  HTML https://sharedalbums.b-cdn.net/f34f7aa2-9c6d-4767-ae1c-81eb438d61a8.jpg[/img][/float][center]Kaelin<br
       />Saint
       Now winter has come and I stand in the snow
       I don't feel the cold
       And it's all that I will ever need to believe
       One day I know we will meet again
       In shade of a life to die for
       [hr]
       Persephone Incarnate[/center]
       [hr]
       He makes it sound like leaving here is easy.  He’s going to
       think I’m stupid and slow, if I ask more questions.  He’s going
       to change his mind about me if he sees the depths of my
       ignorance.  I bite my lip as he talks about the idea of the
       portals.  Have I ever used a portal?  Did the Hermes
       Trismegistus doorway qualify as one?  It had to have. To have
       brought me so far from Attica.
       Forcing myself to finish off the last of my tea, we remind
       ourselves that my fear is irrational.  The scariest part should
       be behind me now, right?  I have to make the choice to trust
       him.  I have to remind myself to trust him.  Trey does not look
       at me like any of them did.  There is no jealousy or
       covetousness in his gaze.  I lean forward to place my now empty
       mug back on the tray.
       That’s when the coin and the room key catch my attention.  The
       coin is lifted first, my thumb grazing over the embossed script,
       almost meditatively.  Portals need keys, don’t they? The cave
       door didn’t open until I had fulfilled the right conditions, so
       must any portal, right?  Have I been given a key to these
       portals?  The freedom to come and go as I please?
       “I… I would like that, Trey.  To accept the offer of your spare
       room, and…”  I suspect that I’ll be rebuked, even gently, if I
       offer to find a way to repay him.  So I keep that promise
       silently to myself. I will repay him for his kindness.  Somehow.
       I pluck slightly at the towel over my lap; it’s wet and heavy
       now.  I feel steadier at least, warmed from within and without.
       My toes curl against the hardwood floor once more.  I feel like
       I’m imposing on him, and there’s a quiet, nagging fear in my
       head that he’ll slip away when I’m no longer the center of his
       attention.  But those are irrational fears, fears born of being
       locked into rooms for my own good, and they deserve to be proven
       wrong.
       “I think I would like to change… and maybe wash the salt out of
       my hair.  If… if I’m not asking too much, would you accompany
       me?”
       #Post#: 703--------------------------------------------------
       Re: [From Tapestry] Throwing Knives
       By: Chance Date: January 8, 2025, 8:17 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [float=right max=45%][img
       width=300]
  HTML https://anywhere.infinimata.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/trey019.jpg[/img][/float]
       Trey Whitman
  HTML https://anywhere.infinimata.com/ooc-info/staff/chance/trey-whitman-2/
       The door was open and the wind appeared
       The candles blew and then disappeared
       The curtains flew and then he appeared
       App 3 | Dex 5 [Swift] | Echoes [Cold Aura] | Ambidextrous
       [hr]
       She's afraid. I hope I didn't cause that, but given that she's
       just run away from captivity, it's hardly a surprise that she's
       off-balance and feeling unsafe, and it almost surely has nothing
       to do with me -- or if anything, I'm probably making it less so,
       which is a comforting thought.
       I nod agreement, and offer her that easy expression again,
       trying to make the favor seem like less than it is so that she
       doesn't feel quite so indebted. I know it probably won't work,
       but it's still worth trying.
       "Of course," I say, looking down at the key tag. "Well, I'll
       give you privacy, of course, but if nothing else, I can stand
       guard by the door." I don't want her to feel abandoned. I feel
       like she's somehow imprinted on me, and I'm honestly afraid I'm
       going to wind up saying or doing the wrong thing. Still, I'm
       curious what the rooms here look like, myself, and she clearly
       is sitting in wet, icky cloth, which is never fun or
       comfortable.
       I offer her an arm, as if she were fully-dressed, and act like
       this is the most normal thing in the world, for her to be
       walking in sopping-wet clothing through an extradimensional
       coffee shop next to a virtual stranger.
       Normal is **** overrated.
       "Shall we?"
       #Post#: 704--------------------------------------------------
       Re: [From Tapestry] Throwing Knives
       By: thesadiecat Date: January 8, 2025, 8:56 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [float=right max=45%][img
       width=300]
  HTML https://sharedalbums.b-cdn.net/f34f7aa2-9c6d-4767-ae1c-81eb438d61a8.jpg[/img][/float][center]Kaelin<br
       />Saint
       Now winter has come and I stand in the snow
       I don't feel the cold
       And it's all that I will ever need to believe
       One day I know we will meet again
       In shade of a life to die for
       [hr]
       Persephone Incarnate[/center]
       [hr]
       Privacy, even.  The idea of it is a luxury.  I’ve gotten so used
       to the idea of people hanging over my every action, of either
       Marianna or Konstantina just being there for everything, the
       concept of true privacy like he’s offering is almost foreign.
       It takes me a moment to rise with him.  Partly because I take
       care to at least try to fold the lap-towel without squeezing it,
       and partly because I take the opportunity to wriggle my arms
       into the sleeves of his leather jacket.  It’ll be more secure
       than just draped around my shoulders that way.  The sleeves are
       so long that my fingers don’t even poke out the ends.  It takes
       a moment of wriggling, to expose one hand enough to take that
       offered arm.  The chivalrous gesture is endearing, but also
       serves to keep me steady on my feet.
       Because as soon as we’re moving again, I feel like everyone’s
       looking at me.  I’m probably walking a little too close to his
       side, but I can’t help it.  Once we’re out of the sight of other
       patrons, I can relax a little more, and actually look around to
       take measure of where I am.  Trey’s the one that finds the right
       room, holding the door for me.
       “You don’t have to wait outside.” I offer with a little more
       boldness than even I expected of myself.  There’s a door to the
       bathroom after all, and I would hate for him to be awkward out
       in the hall.  The promised clothes are there, folded up on the
       bed, looking warm and dry and inviting.  I move them into the
       bathroom while Trey decides where he’s going to hold his vigil,
       either inside, or outside the room.
       But then there’s the jacket.  I have to take it off.  Even if I
       don’t want to.  It’s like removing some piece of armor.  I had
       been hiding within his jacket since he laid it over my
       shoulders.  I remove it with care and reverence; I know he said
       it was just a thing but it’s come to hold meaning for me in this
       short time.  I offer it back to him, folded carefully over both
       arms.
       “I won’t be long.”  That’s a promise.  My intent is to rinse off
       the storm with steaming hot water, clean the salt out of my
       hair, and change into whatever Monica was able to find for me.
       No more than ten or fifteen minutes total.
       #Post#: 705--------------------------------------------------
       Re: [From Tapestry] Throwing Knives
       By: Chance Date: January 8, 2025, 9:41 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [float=right max=45%][img
       width=300]
  HTML https://anywhere.infinimata.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/trey019.jpg[/img][/float]
       Trey Whitman
  HTML https://anywhere.infinimata.com/ooc-info/staff/chance/trey-whitman-2/
       The door was open and the wind appeared
       The candles blew and then disappeared
       The curtains flew and then he appeared
       App 3 | Dex 5 [Swift] | Echoes [Cold Aura] | Ambidextrous
       [hr]
       "Take your time, sincerely..."
       I accept the jacket back, and agree to stay inside the room,
       closing the door to ensure nobody just... strolls on in. I don't
       think she's going to be ready for Chicago cold winter, so she'll
       probably want it back, at least for the ride home. But that's
       jumping ahead a few steps, I think, because we haven't gotten
       past her getting herself a nice hot shower, which may take a
       while. I know it would if it was me in her shoes.
       Or lack thereof.
       When she enters the bathroom, she finds a basket of toiletries
       of assorted types, in small packages, in a variety of scents.
       Something is bound to suit, right? Plus, there are more towels,
       dry ones, and a really lovely step-in shower stall with a
       rain-shower head. It's quite comfy, and warm in the room, and
       yes, the water heats up quickly.
       Everything a soaked-to-the-skin woman could want, really. Even
       an overhead heat drying lamp for when you step out. Someone was
       thinking when they designed this room. (Maybe this is where the
       Ecstatic partner in the venture took over.)
       As for me? I'm looking at my phone, as so many people do when
       they're idle and have time to kill. A moment to check messages
       and email -- nothing there to worry about, nothing that needs
       answering right away -- and then I send a message to Graham:
       Sometime tomorrow or the next night, I will need to bring over a
       potential new Chantry member to meet you. She literally fell
       into the Anywhere Café, long story, but she's crashing in my
       spare room for right now.
       Well, that killed a few seconds. I then flip over to YouTube and
       look at my feed. Lots of stuff I don't really care about. For
       some reason, I have a ton of music videos on there. I flick one
       on at random, and busy myself with chilling out, sitting in one
       of the chairs, where I kill some time while thinking.
       This is going to be... weird? Interesting? A challenge? I mean,
       I'd be lying if I said she wasn't gorgeous, but I am not going
       to be any less than a gentleman, because you just don't make
       moves in a situation where the other person is literally
       depending on you. Nope, nope, nope. No matter how familiar she
       feels, and no matter how much those pale eyes fix on me and make
       my knees wobble.
       Kaelin, you have no idea. I think you may have just set my
       stasis back in motion.
       It's terrifying in the best way possible.
       #Post#: 707--------------------------------------------------
       Re: [From Tapestry] Throwing Knives
       By: thesadiecat Date: January 8, 2025, 10:46 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [float=right max=45%][img
       width=300]
  HTML https://sharedalbums.b-cdn.net/19375c31-0259-4371-a458-273544dbf932.jpg[/img][/float][center]Kaelin<br
       />Saint
       Now winter has come and I stand in the snow
       I don't feel the cold
       And it's all that I will ever need to believe
       One day I know we will meet again
       In shade of a life to die for
       [hr]
       Persephone Incarnate[/center]
       [hr]
       It’s funny how time can telescope out, stretching in perception.
       Especially since nearly the entire first half of my shower is
       spent just mentally and emotionally shut down, practically
       drowning myself in the hottest water my skin can stand.  It’s an
       allowance.  The ability to not think.  Some time to just not
       worry.  I’m allowed to be free.  We deserve to be free.  We
       aren’t asking much of this world… are we?
       I rouse myself when my skin starts to protest the heat, when the
       scratches on my arms sting and my feet begin to ache.  Free of
       the mud, I am already starting to show signs of bruising from my
       travels down the cliffs.  Just because I don’t remember banging
       into rocks, doesn’t mean that I didn’t.  My feet are going to
       suffer the same, I think.  Barefoot through limestone caves.. I
       really wasn’t thinking.
       And I don’t want to think right now.  I need to be clean to
       start over.  I think.. I hope Trey will continue to help me.  I
       hope he doesn’t leave.  I hope, just once, I can see a smile
       touch the sadness in his eyes.
       It is nearly thirty minutes later that the water finally shuts
       off.  The heat lamp above is certainly utilized.  Now that I’ve
       rediscovered warmth; I don’t want to be cold again.  My hair
       smells like bergamot, sage and sandalwood, and just something as
       simple as that lifts my spirits.  I wring out my nightclothes as
       best I can, tucking them into a little drawstring plastic bag
       that seems to be just for the purpose of storing wet items.
       Monica’s borrowed clothes are long on me, but the yoga pants are
       soft cotton, and the tee shirt comes down over my hips.  I feel
       less self-conscious in this than I did before.  Skin is covered
       by more than the drenched dressing gown and chemise-and-shorts I
       had been wearing.  I try to roll the yoga pants up so I’m not
       walking on them, but as soon as I take a few steps, they’re
       unraveling again.
       “Trey?”  The question is soft, as I ease the bathroom door open.
       The steam that billows out behind me should be a good
       indication of just how crazy hot I had cranked the settings.  My
       cheeks are rosy too, and now that my hair is no longer in
       salt-encrusted ropes, I don’t feel like I resemble a drowned
       rat.  When I spot him in the chair, I can’t help but smile.
       Because he did stay.  He did wait and guard the door.  I clasp
       the little drawstring bag, holding the remnants of my captive
       life, and I feel… settled.  Maybe even a little happy?
       “I’m sorry to keep you waiting. I didn’t mean to take so long.”
       I glance back at the bathroom as if mentally checking to be sure
       I didn’t leave anything behind.  “I guess I needed that more
       than I thought.  I actually feel… human again.  Thank you.”
       The adrenaline is starting to wear off; now that fear isn’t
       driving my every movement.  “I’m ready when you are.  I haven’t
       been in Chicago since I was ten… it was home before Cottonwood…
       before Elefsina.”  It’s a roundabout way to tell him that I feel
       like I’m getting to go home, after far too long away.
       *****************************************************
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