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 Posted: Wed Feb 08, 2017 6:50 pm
It happened one day while she was walking back from the mall - she'd picked up a few things for herself, but more for Poppy. Cute clothes and accessories she thought might suit the girl, nothing too extravagant or anything, just - they were 'just because' presents were all. Maybe a little bit 'get well soon' presents, too? It didn't really matter. The bags weren't the important thing.
That's me.
Desdemona had walked by this pole about a hundred times. She'd seen the tiny poster fluttering in the wind and enduring through snow and baking in the summer. There had probably been others, but this one still remained, now old and yellowed and crinkled and crumbling a bit at the edges. But it was still there, hanging on, one poster among the other others in this town that went unnoticed day by day.
Missing big bold letters there, followed by: Natalie Roux. The name echoed in her mind in Ash's voice, fresh from their little talk. If you have any information, please call this number... There were tabs at the bottom that had been torn off. One or two lingered. There was other information, too. A birthday, an age - she was 17 when she'd been taken? - and a picture.
It was her.
Younger. Shorter hair. Rounder face. Smaller, weaker - was she happier? Was she happy? When had the picture been taken? - of course Desdemona didn't remember. She had no recollection of it. That was Natalie, not her. Except it was. It didn't feel like it, but it was, wasn't it?
It was hard not to be transfixed and stare a little, and Desdemona didn't know what she was more - repulsed, detached, or intrigued. She wanted to walk away. She wanted to rip it down and throw it into the gutter. Some part of her even wanted to take it, and what was that even supposed to do?
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Posted: Wed Feb 08, 2017 9:24 pm
It had been a long time.
He recognized her, of course. The last time Fritz had seen Desdemona Anania was when she had come to get her wallet, and it had not ended well - and, in fact, Fritz could not recall that any of their encounters except maybe their first had ended well. It still made him uncomfortable, the attempts at figuring him out, the arrogant assumptions that she knew him better than he knew himself.
But it had been a long time, and even if the anger had long since dissipated, the sense of unease had not. Prior to this, Fritz had been in the midst of his first breakdown - and while he had gotten better, he knew he had, it was taking some time to get back onto his footing again, and everything before was tainted into something unpleasant.
Including most of his memories at that time.
He recognized her, of course, as he was walking down the street, a bag in hand. Fritz had caught sight of the familiar head of bright hair, the haughty tilt of her chin, though at the moment, her expression was fixated on something he couldn't make out. He had debated for several long moments before deciding to go over, because something about everything felt unfinished, and it was hard to move forward when there was no closure.
Fritz stopped a few feet away, one hand tucked into the pocket of his coat, the other holding his shopping bag. For a moment, he was silent, just watching.
"Someone's going to run into you if you keep standing there, gawping at a pole."
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Posted: Wed Feb 08, 2017 10:24 pm
It was not often that Desdemona was distracted; she didn't allow herself the luxury, not after all the time she had spent as someone else's prisoner. The ghost of her own forgotten past, though, that had nicely done trick, and as a result she hadn't the foggiest idea that someone was approaching until it was entirely too late.
The sound of a voice, even a familiar one, unexpected and entirely too close for comfort, caused an instant result. It all happened in a matter of seconds: before her discarded bags even hit the ground she had already turned, her limbs poised and ready to strike, an almost wild look in her eyes - not afraid, no, never afraid, but frantic, more like a cornered animal than anything else - and then she realized who it was.
Just as quickly as her defenses had risen, Desdemona tried to drop them as though it had never happened, exhaling slowly as though she hadn't just sucked a harsh breath of shock between her teeth, an easy smile coming to her face that seemed more at place there, although the tension did not so easily leave her shoulders.
"Fr - Fritz." It was not a stutter of discomfort. She had wanted to fall back on the old habit of 'Freckles', but then she remembered how much he'd seemed to hate it, and the term of endearment was dropped before she ever picked it up again. "Well you have to admit, it's a fairly impressive pole." With a quick once over, she playfully added, "At least now I've got something nicer to look at. It's been awhile!" As if their last meeting hadn't been... what it was.
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Posted: Thu Feb 09, 2017 10:45 am
Fritz had not reacted to Desdemona's violent response, still standing as calm as ever beside her, though his eyebrows rose in mild surprise. He felt a fluttering of anxiety twisting his stomach, ever present even when he was trying to keep himself level, wondering what on earth had happened to make her like this.
His gaze flickered to the pole, then back to Desdemona. Fritz's new glasses were the kind that tinted in the sunlight; the brightness of the day, even overcast as it was with the promise of snow on the horizon, meant that the lenses were currently shaded a dark gray.
"If that's how you want to spend your time, surely I think there would be a better use for it," he said lightly.
Her comment about something better to look at made his lips twist in some semblance of - something, whether discomfort or annoyance, he wasn't entirely sure. Some mixture of the two, perhaps, his mouth tightening at the reminder that yet again she was being the girl he remembered her to be.
Maybe this had been a bad idea after all. Still...
"It has," said Fritz instead, keeping it simple and straightforward. "How have you been?"
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Posted: Thu Mar 02, 2017 9:19 pm
She was relieved he said nothing about it, hell, even visually he didn't seem to acknowledge it. Good. Let him think what he wanted, or let him not think at all. It was in many ways a dangerous city, after all. Who knew what anyone's story was?
"Well you are right about that." She laughed, glancing back at the poster again before leaning down to gather up her things. All cute things tucked into flashy pink bags from shops clearly intended for girls in their teens. True, Desdemona didn't know exactly what her sister would love and hate, but that's what they made receipts for. She was sure Poppy would be pleased with the thought more than anything, or she hoped so; she'd tried to pick things out that would suit her sister. Really though, no hard feelings if she returned them. "It really is a silly waste of time." What exactly do I expect to gain from staring at a ghost? She's not me. She's no one.
Well, that wasn't true. She was someone, Natalie. Or she had been. She wasn't now, but she was to someone.
She hated that she was giving this so much thought.
Even a little distracted, though, she caught sight of the twist of his lips into something that was not a smile, and took a breath as she remembered. That's right. Fritz didn't enjoy that game. It was what had gotten her on his bad side in the first place. Fine, so she would not play. - so then what? Why even bother talking to him if he didn't want to take part in the game?
Because what are you without the game?
Her frow burrowed a little and she fidgeted with the bags, easily coaxing a smile like it was second nature. Inwardly, she puzzled over how to answer, and the pause lingered for longer than it should have before she finally settled on, "That depends; do you want the nice answer, or the honest one?" She laughed, trying to diffuse it, shaking her head and toying with the bags a bit more. "How about you, though? Things any better?" She referenced nothing specific, even if they had to both know what she was really asking about; just in case he didn't want to, though, there was his 'out'.
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Posted: Mon Mar 06, 2017 9:51 pm
A part of Fritz - a large part - kept telling himself that he needed to walk away. But another part of him wasn't quite able to do that, because Desdemona was something of a mystery to him, and he needed time to actually figure out whether it was a good mystery or a bad one.
At the moment, it was the latter, rather than the former, mostly because he remembered too well how most of their meetings had gone.
His eyes flickered to the bags she was carrying, then back up to her face, a slight frown tugging at his lips. He didn't answer the waste of time comment, Fritz watching her cautiously, almost warily; he didn't trust himself to say something that was not irritating, so he remained silent for the time being, letting her be the one to speak first, though it clearly was a struggle, Desdemona's face twisting in thought.
A red brow arched. Fritz made a small noise in the back of his throat.
"An expected diversion of an answer," he said dryly, though only with a touch of annoyance to it. "As for how I am..."
The answer was considered, and then he said, "Yes. Things are much better."
It wasn't a lie; everything in Fritz's life seemed to have shifted on its axis, so that it was revolving more towards the good, rather than the bad. It felt strange, as though he was off kilter; but at the same time, not in a bad way. He wanted to remember how he felt now, because later it would be hard.
"You didn't really answer my question," Fritz pointed out.
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Posted: Mon Mar 13, 2017 4:42 am
An expected diversion of an answer. A light laugh left her as she pushed her hair behind her ear, fiddling idly with the ends of it. "Am I that predictable already?" Desdemona teased lightly, but from there seemed content to listen to what Fritz had to say.
It was simple and to the point, which wasn't unexpected, but it was at least an answer, and a good answer at that. "Really?" Her smile then did not seem in-genuine. "That's good to hear. I wondered, but..." A lot had happened, the timing had never been right, and fun as their encounters could be, who knew what even would have come of reaching out.
Not that she wanted to. Just. If she had wanted it, it would have been tricky. That's all she meant by it.
Fritz didn't exactly prod. But he did ask again, didn't he? In his own way. Desdemona kind of smiled, then kind of frowned, then bit her lip and tried for a smile again. "I've been better, " was what she finally settled on, easing back onto her heels and shifting the bags from one hand to the other again.
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Posted: Wed Mar 22, 2017 3:08 pm
He wasn't sure whether she was predictable or if he just knew what sort of person she was - though admittedly, Fritz had no idea of who Desdemona truly was. Sometimes he thought he saw bits of himself in her words - but in the next second, he knew he was mistaken.
She had wondered about him. Fritz had wondered about her, though he'd never let the thoughts linger, purposefully, because they brought him a mixture of irritation and anger and frustration, things he did not want to consider if he could help it. And he had had other things on his mind that had been more pressing; his life as Celsus had taken much of the weight off of his shoulders while simultaneously making his heart ache.
"You've been better?" he asked now, Fritz's tone not mocking, but almost, in its own way, a little encouraging, as though he was prompting Desdemona to speak more. "What, haven't run into any more half crippled painters as of late?"
It was said with the faintest of smiles - a possible joke.
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