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 Posted: Wed Apr 22, 2015 10:52 am
Ninth Draft
"That was the plan," she grizzled back to him. She had no doubts that Jack and Chris would somehow work together to hide the fact that she couldn't do it.
She put a lazy hand on his lips and in a childish voice she whispered, "Shhhh. Sleep time."
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Posted: Wed Apr 22, 2015 12:28 pm
Complete
Chel nervously thumbed the edge of the folder. Jack had given her one of his slate gray folders to put it in- it actually looked official. Only three pages about herself and it had taken all afternoon, all night and part of the morning. But every page was the extent of her effort.
She took a deep breath, long until her lungs were filled. It was a big change and Chel was never good with change. There was always the opportunity to turn around. She was a good sun. Not the best, not the worst. A good sun. She knew people in the division. She was at the point where she could lead expeditions. It could stay comfortable and cushy and nobody would be wiser.
And there was a lot of paperwork. Paperwork she couldn't do. What if they found out Jack and Chris was writing her s**t for her- was that even allowed? Did that break some kind of rule- she'd never bothered asking.
Who do you think took Finn's eye out?
Chel pulled the folder closer to her chest.
That's how it works.
It was strange that at such a moment when clarity was needed, it wasn't provided by Jack, Chris, Abbi, Finn or any number of her friends. It wasn't someone who cared about her, it wasn't support and it didn't come from someone who had her best intentions in mind. She would have liked to have said that she pulled confidence from somewhere within herself, but Chel had never had confidence and could never claim that bravery sparked her actions.
< Put your folder on the desk. Do not shirk from your responsibility or yourself. >
Putting the folder down immediately absolved her of her guilt. No more running away and hiding behind Merlin or Jack or a bracelet. It was like Tenebrae had said. The complications and relationships didn't matter. She was doing this for herself.
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Posted: Wed Apr 22, 2015 12:34 pm
Coat
It was amazing how fast the quartermaster worked. She'd gotten the notification that her transfer request had gone through (celebration and relief abound, of course) and turned her coat in that morning, and on her bed was a new one when she returned that night.
The coat itself wasn't anything special. The bottom was ripped to shreds, the cut was basic. The wear and tear made it apparent that it was someone's used coat (in fact, Chel had her suspicions that it was probably someone who died, judging by a small reddish stain near the bottom). She hadn't expected that much and wasn't picky or anything, so it was acceptable. Especially when one considered that it was a coat for transferring; it was excess, recycled scraps.
But the quartermaster had taken the time to dye it pink. It had her signature squareish tile on the front. The scythes on the back had a pattern that looked like a wall of eyes staring at someone. Even ripped and worn, someone had put enough love into it to make it hers. Someone recognized her rank and pulled together scraps for her and that made it more than enough.
Of course her first action was to take selfies with it.
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