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Contingency Plans; North
Topic Started: Feb 1 2014, 10:49 PM (1,077 Views)
Defiant
((Short post is short))

The interior of the apartment was yellowed from the light of the setting sun. Cici stood surveying her handiwork and congratulating herself for working through several layers of dust. Every book was put back in its place. Every post-it note clinging to its original spot. There was homemade soup sitting in the freezer, dinner in the oven (bourbon-glazed salmon), and groceries put away in the cupboards and fridge. A man cannot survive on scotch and crackers alone though she was sure Declan would argue otherwise.

Now all she needed was the tenant to show up. Though she was fairly sure her predictions would stay true much like the lack of surprise in seeing an apartment littered with empty scotch bottles and tumbler glasses laying around. Cici was a little more shocked that he actually used glasses in that respect. Why the need for ceremony? Why not straight from the bottle? Would’ve saved time. Judging by the disheveled mess the apartment was in when she arrived she knew he wasn’t having guests over. That and she hadn’t observed anyone moving in or out of the apartment for some time now.

So why all the trouble? Because Declan wasn’t taking care of himself and it was all because the kid smiling in the picture on the shelf wasn’t running around or drawing on the walls. Cici regarded the photo for some time. It probably one of the only things in her life she felt guilt over. His daughter died and hers lived. His marriage fell apart and hers never happened. How was that fair? Life. Right? But he had responsibilities. They both did. Which brought her to the second reason she was here. Now all she had to do was wait for him to get home. Simple.
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She's whiskey in a teacup.

.:Cicely | Aisling:.
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“As for her, she is a story with no ending, happy or sad. She can never belong to anything mortal enough to want her.”
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Defiant
Cicely bit her bottom lip and looked down at her lap briefly. The plate was pushed away slowly and she poured herself another glass of wine. One quick sip and she sat the glass down gently without a sound. He was probably the only person in the world that could make her feel vulnerable and pissed off all at the same time. She took another sip of wine then leveled her eyes at him as she leaned forward.

“Don’t call me Memoire.”

And she spilled. She told him everything. Starting with the “immaculate conception” as the case may have been. How Diana didn’t have a father and not just in the “he’s out of the picture” sense but the fact that “he was out of the DNA completely” sense. Cicely told him about Diana’s power set or at least what she knew of it. Sometimes she wondered if the girl were hiding something else. It was bad enough she was a psychic.

Sometimes that was enough to creep even Cici out. Powers usually didn’t manifest in small children like that. She digressed. But the most important part was coming up. The day Diana started getting sick. Cicely relayed dates. The same dates that Declan would recall in relation to his own daughter. The only difference was that Diana lived. There were so many parallels. The birthday, the illness, the peculiar likeness in appearance and mannerisms.

Those things didn’t faze Cicely too terribly much. No, the scariest part to her was the secret she kept just under her skin. The same thing that had been looking out through her eyes at Declan as a predator would watch another predator. That was the part she feared the most. If Diana was just like Cici then what purpose did she serve?

“…and I’m afraid that Diana is just like me which means there are at least two souls on this planet that you’ll never reap.”
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She's whiskey in a teacup.

.:Cicely | Aisling:.
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“As for her, she is a story with no ending, happy or sad. She can never belong to anything mortal enough to want her.”
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Cowboy
None of it made any sense...

An immaculate conception.
A date of birth.
An illness...
Cicely had 'died' repeatedly over the years, but never had her soul passed on.

Kimberly... Diana...
No.

Grim.

For a long time Declan didn't move. His fork had since been set back down beside his plate, contents half-eaten. Condensation dripped off his water-glass in an obnoxiously slow bead. His face betrayed nothing, but his eyes...
Rage, confusion, overwhelming sadness, pain...
All those old wounds, freshly marred by her request, were now pouring white-hot anger through his veins, and he sat there, silently, listening. His teeth could crack pearls.
At no point was he upset with Cicely, this situation was not her fault.

"...Excuse me a moment."

When he finally did speak, his voice was tight, shallow. His eyes had begun to glisten, perhaps from tearducts or the light of the room flickering. His gaze fell from hers, his hand shaking ever-so-slightly as he rose from the table and made his way to the patio door, facing the ocean.

The doors burst open, the wind kicking up as his hands grasped the rail. He felt as if he might be sick, his lungs burning in his chest, veins pumping battery acid. The stars sprinkled over the sky burned in mockery of his predicament; the universe had it out for him. Was this torment for his role in the cosmos?

Tapping into that dark, ethereal energy he possessed for only one purpose, he sent a pulse out into the ether with as much intensity and fervor as he had in five years; laced with all the anger he felt, holding one simple word; Grim.

(Timestop.)

The waves stopped crashing against the sand, the wind stopped howling, and somewhere beside Declan, a follow, hooded figure appeared, the temperature of the immediate vicinity dropping significantly.

I've been wondering when you'd find this out.
"Why, Grim?" He hadn't yet looked at his friend. Mentor. Partner.
The cosmos is a balancing act. You know this.

His hands were shaking. Knuckles white. When he turned there were tears rolling down his cheeks, his jaw set hard, eyebrows carved out of stone.

"Why did my daughter have to die? God Damnit, Bones, she had nothing to do with any of this! She never had to be part of this bullshit balancing act, and now you dangle the carrot in front of me, Cicely's daughter, born the same day as mine, an immaculate conception, gets sick the same time as Kimberly, and the day Kimberly died, she mysteriously got better? Why did they have to be eachothers alters? For fucks sake, Grim, this isn't right. I can't go through this again."

At what point had he buckled? He was on his knees on the patio, shaking; just as hurt as the day Kimberly had died, except now, angrier. His fist smashed against the wooden floor, once, twice, until his knuckles burst and blood splattered across the frozen landscape. It was a moment before he registered the chill running through his body radiating through his right shoulder, looked up to see Grim crouched beside him, dead fingers gripping his shoulder. He could hear the eternal entity sigh, rattling through the ether.

Declan, for all the time I've been doing what I do, I've never seen anyone, including myself, endure what you have. I also don't have all the answers. It's a big place out there, and it doesn't make sense. It's hard, cruel, and unfair. Why your daughter linked with Diana, I don't know. I knew about it, but have yet to figure out why. The entity that possessed and impregnated Cicely predates even myself. Its intentions are mysterious and unpredictable. It is a life-giving entity, which rivals our profession. Maybe it chose you because you're my successor, maybe it chose Kimberly to link with Diana to someday bring you and Cicely back together. What I do know is that her illness had nothing to do with you, your legacy, myself, or the phoenix. Kimberly passed because it was her time. That's all. I miss her too, but this #4f4f4f hole you're in, medication and alcohol and pain, that's only going to make this worse.
The reaper took Declan's hand, knuckles cracked and leaking blood, and covered it with his own for a moment. The childs bracelet on Declans wrist caught the moonlight.
You have to let this go, son. You have to find something else to live for besides the memories of your daughter.

His breathing was labored, slow, regaining control, but empty;

"There's nothing left on this earth I want, Bones..."

The reaper released Declan's hand, blood gone and hand healed.
Then you haven't opened your eyes wide enough, my friend. Cast off this shell and you'll realize just how much of this plane can still make you happy. You have to believe again. If not for me, start doing it for Cicely. She needs you. She won't tell you just how much she needs you, how much she cares, but right now you're one of the only people in her life she trusts, that can help her, and you're the only one she trusts with her daughter. You don't owe her anything, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't. You were a happy man, once. You can be that again. Start small. Start with her. Protect her and Diana; find out what the Phoenix wants with you, and take this bracelet off. Kimberly was an amazing child, don't sully her memory by turning it into poison in your veins. Find a better place for it. Get back on your feet. I'll be in touch.

(Resume time.)

The waves slapped the shore and the cold was gone.

He stood back up on the patio, looking out over the waves, and sighed. Wiped his face with his sleeve and looked down at the bracelet coiled around his wrist. Strings frayed, buttons cracked and yellowed, letters worn.

Cicely needed him? Was Grim toying with him, or was it true?
And did she have any idea just how badly he needed her? Did he even know himself?

Hopefully the next time Cicely cooked him dinner would be less emotional...

Edited by Cowboy, May 25 2014, 02:19 AM.
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Defiant
There’s something that comes from knowing someone intimately. A sense of connection between two people that make distance and time fickle things. This was one of those moment Cicely had wished the connection wasn’t so strong. Declan’s emotions were as palpable as the wine she was drinking. Times like this she wondered just how deep down the old Ryan was hiding or if he was too far gone.
It felt like being drawn down a funnel.
The scent of the ocean drew her back. It was just long enough to allow Cicely a moment to realize something was happening. Something she couldn’t stop. The hair on the back of her neck rose and then… she blinked. It was a slow torturous process.

The power play left a bitter taste on her tongue and a fire roared in her head. There weren’t many things that got past Cicely. The thing, whatever it was, had lived too long for that. Sometimes she missed the bliss of arrogance.

She found him on the patio in the cool night air. His dark silhouette against the backdrop made her linger for a moment in the archway. Like a black hole trying to steal the light away from the stars. If only he’d known there was a spark still alive in him. That he had his own light. Maybe he really had been in the dark too long.

She closed the distance between them, her heels making little more than a light tapping against the patio, and wrapped her arms around him. It felt as if she were trying to hold all of his pieces together. She wanted to tell him it was going to be okay. Tell him the truth about what happened to Kimberly but that undeniable truth might shatter both of them.

Words were kind of lost on this moment so she took advantage of the extra height the heels gave her and kissed the back of his neck hoping he wouldn’t judge her too harshly for it. She’d had enough of that for one lifetime.

That’s what a Phoenix is… it’s judgment. It burns away what doesn’t work.
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She's whiskey in a teacup.

.:Cicely | Aisling:.
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“As for her, she is a story with no ending, happy or sad. She can never belong to anything mortal enough to want her.”
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Cowboy
Sawyer.Lord ValreignFluxRyanDaddy.

Declan had gone by many names over the years. Each of them a different persona, a different person. The masks he had worn had become so numerous. So many roles he had played. The name he wore the last few years was another escape from reality after his history attempted to catch up with him, but had he become lost in it? Was it just a name he wore or did preconceived notions about who he should become to shake his tails leak into who he was at heart? Had losing his family, his daughter, cast such a large shadow, thrown him into such a vast pit, he never saw the surface again? It was like being at the bottom of a lake so long he forgotten he'd adapted gills. Out of his element, unable to see the surface, but living on regardless. Had he drown in his facade, his reclusivity from the world?

The former reaper was shivering. He had done enough soul-ferrying in the past he was well versed in the stages of grief, and yet, unable to get through them all himself, as if he just lapsed over and over in the first four without ever completing the vicious cycle. Anger, Depression, Bargaining. Never acceptance. Never acceptance...

Footsteps on the patio synced with the lazy lapping waves and still, he couldn't move. It wasn't until he felt her arms around him did his body stiffen, for a moment; as if on reflex, as if it had forgotten what a soft embrace was. It was too fast to be a conscious thought. But it made the rest of the thoughts vanish. Like a bucket of black paint spilt on his crossword, the whole mind, just...blank. It was soothing, in the strangest way, and in that moment, a sigh left his aged lips and his body relaxed, leaning back against hers.
She needed him, but she was here for him.

Never Acceptance...

Another slow, deep breath, and his once-calloused hand hovered over, and then clung, to hers. In the glow of the evening, the only sound being her breathing against his neck, the ocean lazily hugging the shore, he let himself embrace the emptiness. The vacuum that had sucked his life into it. There was a spark left in there, somewhere; the troublemaking firecracker, the sharp-tongued adventurer, the badboy thief, the con artist, the loyal friend... was it all lost to him, or just to time?
Did it take someone from his past to turn the lights back on after all these years? If nothing else, there was one unshakable, undeniable truth, one he shared with her barely more than a whisper.

"I miss her, Cicely.."
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