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medigel

Anxious Spirit

PostPosted: Fri Apr 25, 2014 8:35 pm


Visions of the pit rose at the back of her mind--grasping at darkness, numb to the bone, and breathing in bugs--and she shivered. "It is," Stormy whispered back. "There's no greater enemy than yourself." Locking eyes for a moment, she read the pain there and felt something try to lodge itself in her throat if not outright cut off her air supply as painfully as possible.

I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm sorry I'm still not wholly here.

She disagreed and felt this was a failure nevertheless (among a litany of other things she wasn't doing well for their relationship), but she was too tired to try and press her point. It was obvious that they were both getting drained by this, and the faster she put herself to sleep, the better it'd be. Hopefully. Assuming she could sleep. Well, if she stayed in all of these layers and got cozy, maybe it wouldn't be so bad . . . Already Stormy was starting to feel like she could fall asleep standing up with how little she had gotten over that period of time.

With the silence coming on again, she hesitated. Her fingers twitched, hesitated again, and then cautiously she extended a hand out for Gale to take, most of it hidden beneath a dangling sleeve. "Upstairs?"

kuroopu
PostPosted: Fri Apr 25, 2014 8:53 pm


He didn't want to go back to how things had been before; he wanted to move forward, not by himself, but with Stormy, at her side. And yet there was still that wide gap between that seemed terribly awkward and ill placed, and Gale pressed his fingers against his forehead, trying to ease some of the headache that had started to form behind his brow.

It was only when he heard her soft voice that he looked up again and saw that she had stretched out her hand towards him, the tips of her fingers the only thing visible beneath the draping sleeve. For a moment, Gale just looked at it, and then at Stormy, his cheeks flushed, and it almost seemed as though he might not accept because he wasn't sure what would happen.

But then he stretched out his hand hesitantly towards hers and slid his fingers through hers, giving a slight and small gasp at the contact, half muffled by an attempt at hiding it. The warmth of her hand, the familiar feel of her skin; he twined their fingers together and pressed his lips together, his face still reddened.

Almost a month without just holding her hand and it felt strangely surreal and simultaneously wonderful to be doing it now.

Wordlessly, he led her towards the stairs, taking them slowly until they reached the landing, the tiny hallway that stretched between his room and the guest room; and it was here that Gale stopped, his hand still holding Stormy's, saying nothing at all, although there was a silent question in his eyes.


Ol-j-man

kuropeco

Dramatic Marshmallow


medigel

Anxious Spirit

PostPosted: Fri Apr 25, 2014 9:27 pm


She closed her eyes at the contact and sighed a little herself. Ah. It was not everything that was missing, and it wasn't an instant cure in the least--but it was a luxury she allowed herself today, if only because she needed something or she'd quickly fall apart. Or so might Gale. She'd forgotten how sensitive her hands were already, let alone after weeks of deprivation from anything aside from fists and clothes and whatever vice she felt like sinking into, and she had forgotten how oddly comforting it was to see him blush after so long--even if it was a fleeting comfort.

Stormy didn't have the strength for a strong grip, but it kept somehow as they walked. Her eyes remained closed, letting Gale and her own spatial awareness guide her up the stairs, slowly, her other hand sliding up the rail to keep her balance, lulled by how smooth it felt. She hadn't yet counted the steps, but her body seemed to know instinctively when it stopped, a second before the pair paused again. The divide waited.

But she was tired of making decisions when every single one of hers had been horribly wrong for one reason or another. It didn't matter how understanding he was, strained patience or otherwise. Go on her own and risk the sting of loneliness again, go with him and feel something like the edge of a blade in her chest from being too close too soon. The only reason she hadn't let go of him yet was because she was so indecisive, but it didn't mean that the contact, as much as it soothed her, didn't also make her skin itch; this was only temporary, after all. She remembered the ghosts she had pulled with her down there, another Gale sneering and rebuking her for "trying to do the right thing", breaking more promises only to fail in the end.

Stormy was so very tired.

Her eyes opened reluctantly, and she caught Gale's silent question without an immediate response. She felt stupid taking this so seriously, even as her head buzzed with non-thoughts and a vague dread of letting go.

At length, she turned towards the guest room, zombie-like in her advance. Ultimately it was more familiar, and that was what she needed right now. Her hand resisted slipping from his for a moment before it started slipping; at this point, she didn't want to be in charge of what Gale did. She was barely capable of deciding things on her own, or of thinking at the moment.

Regardless of his decision, when Stormy entered the room she fought off the temptation to simply fall on the bed and forget everything and instead began to strip off a few of her layers, tossing them uncermoniously on the ground. What seemed so important back then no longer seemed to matter now. Bugs were bugs: they'd get her with or without her protection.

kuroopu
PostPosted: Fri Apr 25, 2014 10:13 pm


He waited, not with baited breath, but with a certain sense of resignment, because he knew before she moved which direction she would take, which path she would choose. And a part of him, the less frustrated part of him, was okay with whatever she decided, because at least she was here; at least she had decided to stay, and that alone gave him at least a little peace of mind.

But the other part of him, the less kind part and the more selfish side of him, wanted to grab her and hold onto her, to never let her go.

He couldn't do that.

Her fingers were slipping from his, and he began to inwardly panic, his breath hitching in his throat, his hand unwilling at first to let hers go, because he had the most terrible fear that if he let go now, he wouldn't be able to hold on later; that she would let go and he would lose her forever.

But her fingers fell away from his and she moved to the room, Gale left standing in the hallway. Slowly he lowered his hand back to his side and swallowed back the panic, bit down on the fear. He exhaled a long breath and steadied himself, closing his eyes briefly before he took a few steps towards the room, one hand on the door frame, though he didn't quite step into the room itself.

She had taken off a few layers; she seemed somehow much less small without being buried beneath the draping, oversized fabric that had dwarfed her frame. Gale bit his lip and hesitated, swaying slightly where he stood, the exhaustion nearly overwhelming him momentarily.

"Do..." He stopped, swallowed, and tried again, trying to sound calm, trying to be casual and in control.

"Do you need anything else before you sleep?" he finally asked, his voice quiet.


Ol-j-man

kuropeco

Dramatic Marshmallow


medigel

Anxious Spirit

PostPosted: Sat Apr 26, 2014 12:15 am


Stormy had, in her slow and methodical manner, shed an overlarge and well-worn coat, a long sleeved fawn-spotted shirt, and was in the midst of peeling off a pink tee which revealed that still under that was a white undershirt. In a way, it was like shedding colors as well, going from dark to bright and feeling just that much better for it, even if it was little by little. Funnily, it was also easier to breathe, as if they had been holding her back.

She had no mirror, but even by her usual standards she seemed thinner than usual rather than simply wearing the wrong size of clothes. Her ribs would have been much more noticeable if she had gone through all the way, which she almost had when Gale spoke.

Pausing, she then tugged her tee back down and smoothed it over, very self-conscious of her bare arms, of every little mark several shades lighter than her skin that had indicated a bite or incision that, despite Thane's best efforts, weren't going away. At least her pants, the same baggy pair of yoga sweats she'd worn for three days, covered every inch of her legs and then some over her feet, and at least she still had her beanie covering her head. This was important. Then she turned and approached Gale, her socks dragging along the floor in a shuffle.

Stormy stopped at the same distance she had in the kitchen, her arms lightly crossed so that they held the other's elbows. She was still awfully tired and swore her skin was trying to melt off her bones with how heavy she felt, but it was also important to address him face to face. Even if she didn't have an answer at first. She studied him instead with eyes more gray than green, feeling a pang of empathy among many other things: if their positions had been reversed, she would have been there asking the exact same thing, regardless of how much it hurt to still be there.

The question was, though, if there was anything outside of her that could really help. She had attained an uneasy equilibrium inside for now, but she knew it wouldn't last. Nothing did.

". . . You'll be down the hall, right?" she asked softly, sounding like a child who needed to be reassured. "If something happens, you promise you'll be there?"

kuroopu
PostPosted: Sat Apr 26, 2014 7:07 pm


She didn't seem self-conscious, at least not at first. Gale watched her warily for a moment, noting the dark circles beneath her eyes, the thinness of her arms as though she'd been pulled too far in one direction; the overall gaunt look to her face, as though she hadn't been eating much.

He was under the distinct impression that she hadn't.

Gale let out his breath in a long sigh, and his eyes caught Stormy's, her light gray-green gaze catching his. For a moment it almost felt like it used to; like things were right with the world (or as right as they could get on Deus), that it was just him and Stormy and no on else.

Her voice was small. His stance relaxed a little.

"Always," said Gale quietly, and again resisted trying to give her a kiss goodnight, because something told him that it would not be received well, that she would be frightened and try to push him away again; ahd he wasn't sure that he could handle that, not now. So instead, he merely gave her a small nod.

"I promise," he said, and lifted his hand to his fingers, kissing the tips and then extending his hand out towards her; a quiet gesture of affection, blowing a kiss, when he couldn't physically show a proper one.

Then he turned and started down the hall to his own room.


Ol-j-man

kuropeco

Dramatic Marshmallow


medigel

Anxious Spirit

PostPosted: Sat Apr 26, 2014 7:54 pm


Belatedly, she realized it wasn't right of her to ask that after her forced separation. But as usual, Gale was more accomodating than she deserved. His answer made her relax noticeably, though past that Stormy made no overt reaction, not even to the blown kiss, aside from a flicker in her eyes.

"Goodnight," she said wearily as he turned to leave, gazing at the empty space for a little longer before remembering to close the door. The lock was turned not out of spite but out of unconscious habit, and Stormy was too tired to remember it happening.

She shoved her bag off the bed and spent hours atop the sheets in the awful twilight of a mind too emotionally charged with memories to sleep and a body too listless to move, catching snatches of sleep before jerking awake again. Sometimes it was being sore for staying too long on one side, or the bed or settings were (relatively) unfamiliar, or one of the stuffed animals got in the way (and were promptly knocked off without a care), or it was too cold, or it was too hot, or her throat was so completely parched that water was the only solution but her legs didn't work. It wasn't anything unusual in the previous three da--three weeks, or in the obsessive period of research before that. Honestly, Stormy didn't remember the last time she had a proper amount of food and sleep and was lucky nothing strenuous had been happening aside from that nightmarish hallucination, which had only frayed her nerves even more as thoughts and reality began alternating between blending and fighting each other.

She tried not to think about the rapidly decaying circumstances she was in. There were a thousand other topics assaulting her mind as it was.

She didn't stir again until past noon the next day, whereas normally even her less-than-morning-person self would be up before lunch hour. Even then, she remained curled on the bed, weighed down by a sadness she couldn't name.

kuroopu
you can timeskip to whenever you want for his entrance~
PostPosted: Sun Apr 27, 2014 8:11 pm


He did not sleep well, in spite of his exhaustion.

The night seemed to drag on endlessly, Gale tossing and turning, the bed feeling strangely empty without Stormy's presence, despite her being just a short distance away in the other room. He pressed his face into his pillow and took a deep, calming breath, then pulled the blankets up and tried to go back to sleep.

It didn't really work. His mind was too ill at ease to settle, and although he did doze lightly, it came in fits and spells until finally, sometime in the early morning, he managed to fall asleep for perhaps an hour or two, eventually getting up a little after dawn had broken. He spent the time in his room, writing nonsensical things in the notebook at his desk until the sun was relatively high in the sky and a sticky warmth had found its way through the windows and into the room.

He felt weirdly tired and strangely wired all at once. Gale pushed his chair back away from the desk with a little screech and went to the adjoining washroom to shower, spending too long in there - the hot water had all gone when he climbed out and dressed himself in a pair of black sweats and a green teeshirt with the word sniper emblazoned across it (a Christmas gift from Bix one year). He slipped his feet into a pair of slippers and padded over to the door, carefully opening it and peering out hesitantly to see if there was anyone up and about other than himself.

The guest room door was still closed. No sound emanated from either it or downstairs, and Gale exhaled a long breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Quietly he left the room and went downstairs; which, as he had expected it (though it was still disappointing), was empty. He fixed himself some breakfast and ate quietly alone at the table, and when he was finished with his eggs and kippers, he washed the dishes and put them away.

Then he went and sat on the couch and waited.

It was a little before noon when he got up again, setting his book down and making his way to the kitchen. He made a few ham and cheese sandwiches, ate one himself, and set the other on a plate, along with a napkin and a bag of crisps. Then he went back upstairs and took a deep breath before knocking on the guest room door.

"Stormy? It's, ah...me. I brought you some food if you...if you're hungry."


ol-j-man

kuropeco

Dramatic Marshmallow


medigel

Anxious Spirit

PostPosted: Sun Apr 27, 2014 9:10 pm


She alternated staring at the wall and staring at the inside of her eyelids for she didn't know how long. The smell of food from downstairs wafted up eventually, and at first made her mouth water. But her stomach kept rejecting the idea of food, as if the lone cup of tea from yesterday had been enough to process. The lack of sleep wasn't helping things, she knew, but eating . . . eating sounded like such a hard task . . .

The idea of food made her stomach turn unpleasantly. But the idea of trying to keep Gale out again was far worse in comparison, and eventually, through a great exertion of will power, Stormy managed to uncurl and get onto her feet--and nearly fall over since even that seemed too much to do at once. A part of her almost wanted to bitterly comment that he could just break in again since he was clearly capable of that, but it was stifled. Today wasn't a day of anger for her: just sorrow.

She wobbled her way to the door, her limbs stiff and her body complaining. Tugging her hat back down just to be sure it was still there, Stormy sniffled and unlocked the door. She didn't openly answer, but by the way she gave him a tired look and the shake of a head, yet still stepped back to let him in, suggested that while she probably wouldn't eat, she didn't want to give him the cold shoulder either.

Her clothes were still strewn on the floor, as were all three of the stuffed animals and several of her pillows. It was obvious she hadn't gotten under the covers and had curled up all night atop them; some of her face still bore light imprints of where the sheets had creased against them. Stormy yawned and began attempting to stretch her arms, wincing.

He didn't look like he had left the house, which was curious. Free days weren't all that common, even for fully licensed hunters. She eyed the plate of food like she would a book cover, attempting to read a title and discern what it might hold--then that same studious look went to Gale, trying to read what his intention for the moment would be: just getting her to eat, or something more? He looked tired as well. This should have worried her more, but Stormy felt only muffled tremors that faded away.

kuroopu
PostPosted: Sun Apr 27, 2014 9:34 pm


Well, at least she was letting him in. That was progress, at least, however small it was. Gale gave her a small nod and stepped into the room, his fingers curling around the plate of food in his hands, his eyes sweeping over the still made bed and the clothes and the animals on the floor. Clearly Stormy had not slept either, which made Gale feel marginally worse, not better. He made his way over to the bedside table and set the plate down, gesturing for Stormy to eat, should she want to.

He wasn't sure she wanted to. He sat on the edge of the bed and remained there silently for several long minutes before he said anything at all.

"How are you feeling?"


ol-j-man

kuropeco

Dramatic Marshmallow


medigel

Anxious Spirit

PostPosted: Sun Apr 27, 2014 9:51 pm


Her eyes flicked between him and the plate of food, hands limp at her side. Stormy shrugged and made a soft, non-commital noise along with a tiny shrug. She honestly didn't know if she was better or worse than before, as roiling emotion switching to a complete domination of one did nothing for her health either way.

Her brows knitted as she looked at him. "How're you?" she mumbled, parroting normal conversation as she tried to shrug off her depression. "Day going okay?"

kuroopu
PostPosted: Sun Apr 27, 2014 10:01 pm


It wasn't an answer, not really, but it would have to do. He couldn't force her to be completely forthright with him, just like he couldn't force her to take his hand or to answer him properly or to tell him why she kept pushing him away. It would just have to do that she was not currently going to tell him everything that was on her mind.

He didn't like not knowing things.

He didn't like this space.

"It's...going," said Gale, glancing around the room a little. "It's been pretty quiet. Haven't done much, to be honest. I was supposed to go in to the Death offices today and work on some papers, but I took the day off."

He gestured towards the food. "Just ham and cheese, but it might help fill you up."

He lapsed into an awkward silence, Gale's cheeks flushing


Ol-j-man

kuropeco

Dramatic Marshmallow


medigel

Anxious Spirit

PostPosted: Sun Apr 27, 2014 11:37 pm


"Mm." She bobbed her head, then regretted it as the throbbing began to strengthen in her temples and brought a hand up to rub at one. It was like being drunk, except she was still able to think (somewhat) and she wasn't making an idiot of herself (somewhat). At least the blinds were up over the windows, leaving only slender bars to mark the floor; light would irritate her too much.

(Perhaps because part of her had been left behind in the dark.)

She remembered to breathe in the faint smell of flowery perfume that still lingered from before and exhaled slowly. No smoke. No bugs. Just perfume and the smell of fresh cheese and ham, which still stirred equal parts disgust and hunger in her.

"You shouldn't do that on my account," Stormy chastised quietly. "You're on thin ice with Caelius as it is, so what you do have for work is important . . ." She didn't like the idea of Gale sticking it out in his house just because he was worried, especially given the kind of person his leader was.

She wasn't Nevada, she liked to think herself a little more trustworthy. She wasn't out to hurt herself just to make sure she was alive.

(Today.)

Stormy shifted from foot to foot, her hands clasping each other idly. She continued to frown a little at him. "I could do it instead," she offered a little dully. She might as well get used to it anyway. "That way you don't have to worry about it." For all the pain she had caused Gale, she ought to start at least putting some effort to balancing it back out. Granted, she had no idea how in her state of mind she'd fill any of them out correctly, but she had to try . . . At least it would be something. A job to keep her busy.

kuroopu
PostPosted: Mon Apr 28, 2014 6:59 pm


He couldn't help but worry about her; about the unsteady look to her as she stood in front of him, her face pale, her hat tugged low over her head. Even if he wasn't as close to her as he was, Gale could have already guessed that the reason for the hat was less to hide herself, and more to hide something else -

- or maybe nothing at all, now that he looked at her a little more closely. There were no familiar strands of reddish brown hair poking out from beneath her hat. Stormy had worn hats before, of course, but there were always stray locks of hair that fell free from their restraint, little reminders of the fire atop her head, the softness that Gale enjoyed running his fingers through.

Which could mean only one thing.

He made no comment of it, however, and gave her a reassuring smile. "Caelius isn't going to mind my not coming in for one day," he said, though he wasn't entirely certain this was true or not. "I do more for the Death Division than anyone realizes, so I can afford a day off - especially since I never take them, really," he added, rocking back a little on his heels.

Gale shook his head. "There isn't much to do anyway," he said hastily. "Just some old filing and that can wait. Things have been a bit of a standstill, you'd get bored quite easily."

He hesitated a moment, and then said, "I..." before stopping, his cheeks reddening, because what could he say that hadn't already been said?

I miss you?

I love you?

I hope you're all right?


He'd already said all of them, had already tried getting through to her, but in spite of her taking his hand yesterday, the wall was still there around her, the gap still wide and gaping between them. He felt as though if he took a step too farther in either direction he'd fall and never be able to get back up again.


Ol-j-man

kuropeco

Dramatic Marshmallow


medigel

Anxious Spirit

PostPosted: Mon Apr 28, 2014 7:26 pm


"Okay." It was uncharacteristic to let him slide as simply as that, especially given how moody Gale's leader was, but she didn't object. The reminder that he did do a lot for the division, demoted or not, actually cowed her even, submerging herself a little deeper in her mood. What exactly had she done anyway? Nothing, relatively speaking, at least nothing positive. Stormy bit the inside of her cheek and averted her gaze as he began to blush.

She started to question the wisdom of letting him in when she didn't know what to say or how to act. The only things on her mind were the kinds that, like waves over the sand, pulled and pushed and slowly eroded away at her, some of them not even needing a substantial memory to exist. It was like someone had taken the air from her lungs and replaced it with something cold and sinking, draining her ability to think. And she was afraid of it being infectious the longer Gale stayed there.

But she didn't have the energy to try and drive him away again, or the mind to really. What willpower was left got her to circle to the opposite side of the bed from where he sat, circumventing the coat she had tossed last night, and then she all but let herself fall atop the sheets to curl up again. Her chest hurt, but the compression seemed to help.

"You look tired," she said in a muffled voice. "Maybe you should take a nap."

kuroopu
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THIS IS HALLOWEEN: Deus Ex Machina Training Facilities

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