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 Posted: Tue Jan 27, 2015 10:02 pm
How many days had to been since they pulled Hannah from the nightmare that was a so called funhouse? Six? Seven? Ten?
When she looked down at her phone, the calendar said it had only been two. Lord Delilah needed to get out of here. The sterile walls and floors of the hospital were starting to get to her and causing her mind to turn on her. Combined with the stale, recycled air and Delilah honestly felt as if she was going to need to check herself in. What was harder on the young woman was not the healing injuries that she hid from the world. It was the mental pain she felt as she replayed New Years Eve over and over in her mind.
If she had just go with her to find Tharen. If she had just stayed with Hannah. If she had just…
If she had been the one to be taken.
That was it.
Delilah needed to get out.
Nearly leaping out of the waiting room chair, Delilah threw the untouched plastic cup of coffee into the trash and headed for the door. There was very little she could until Dr. Jacobs said otherwise. Hannah’s parents were there and by her side 24/7. They had her number. If anything changed, they would call.
Right now, Delilah needed to clear her head. It felt almost impossible as she walked, no, nearly ran in the first open direction that came to her. How far she went, the raven hair woman didn’t care. But she didn’t stop until her lungs burned and her legs felt as if they were going to fall out from under her.
Leaning over, with her hands on her knees, Delilah was inhaling deeply, trying to focus on the sounds around her. Voices. Some laughing, some commenting, some shopping?
The latter confused her causing her head to raise and look down the street. All up and down the sidewalks were artist showing off their work and trying to grab attention. There was so much life and excitement there that it was hard for her to escape it. A slow smile formed on her lips, allowing her body to relax back into its normal state post sudden run.
Walking forward, Delilah began to stroll comfortably down the sidewalk, taking time to gaze at the work and watch the demonstrations. Within a few moments, outside of looking a touch tired, Delilah felt herself feeling a bit more human. She was even laughing when someone missed and spray painted another person’s leg.
Yes, fresh air was good.
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Posted: Wed Jan 28, 2015 4:27 pm
The doctors had told him that he had two broken ribs, a concussion, and several bruises that Fritz had explained had occurred when he'd fallen down the stairs of his apartment. It was obvious he couldn't have said what they were really from, and the case of mild dehydration that was also on his chart was a little harder to work around; but eventually he'd managed to convince them that he was just fine.
They had insisted on keeping him overnight for two nights, but on the third day - two days after he'd been admitted - Fritz put his (metaphorical) foot down.
"Sir, we really do advise you to stay at least one more day - "
"Nope, that's all right, really," he said lightly, tugging on a shoe with slow and pained movements. "I'm just fine and dandy, brilliant, even, seriously, I can't be here anymore, I will go absolutely mad. They've already discharged me, I'm good to go."
There were a few more protests, but they fell on deaf ears. Fritz St. James had escaped the hospital, thanks to a very surly brother who came to pick him up (Tolliver had been not-so-pleased at his twin's absolute refusal to stay longer, but had grudgingly agreed to drive him anyway). It was much nicer outside; he could breathe the air out here, could see the sky, feel the breeze on his face.
"Just for the record," said Tolliver, as he slowed the car to a stop on the side of a crowded street. Noise abounded around them, vibrant and cheerful. "I still think this is a ridiculous idea. Even if you left the hospital, you should be at home resting, not out in the middle of the city doing who-knows-what."
"I just want to paint a little," was Fritz's cheerful answer, as he carefully extracted himself from the car (the aching ribs made it very painful to move fast). "Come pick me up in a few hours."
"Idiot," muttered Tolliver, but he gave a nod and drove off, presumably cursing his brother's stupidity the entire way.
Fritz set up his stand on the corner of a busy street, propping his canvas up and unrolling his paintbrushes in his lap. The folding chair was comfortable, though leaning too much was rather painful, so he had to be careful not to do too much and put too much strain on his body. There was nothing really in his mind to paint, so he started off on just doing simple gestures, taking note of the people currently walking around him.
And eventually, he was able to relax, just a little.
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Posted: Mon Feb 02, 2015 8:39 pm
Clapping along with the small group that had formed, Delilah watched the man turn the canvas upside down to show of he could make a mess of blobs suddenly turn into their Governor. All a matter of perspective.
As he set it out to dry and pulled up another blank canvas, Delilah moved back and kept walking. Some people were creating items to sell, others, she could see were just using the atmosphere as a means to help their creativity. One such artist caught her eye.
He was looking up every now and then, from what she could tell, gazing at how people were moving. But it wasn't his quiet ways that caught her attention in the sea of people.
It was that bright red hair.
Her eyes watched him as a gentle smile came across her lips. Turning her head to both sides, she glanced around for the one thing that would tell her if this was the one she thought it was.
A street sign above her head showed Third Street.
That was all Delilah needed to know as she walked with the crowd to come around him. Removing herself, she stepped to the side and tried to keep her steps light as she came up behind the man who had surprised her not so long ago.
For a moment, Delilah remained still. Then she willed herself to speak. "They look as if they could walk right off the page and join the crowds."
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Posted: Wed Feb 18, 2015 10:40 pm
He didn't think he would be able to actually sit for a few hours, all things considered, but Fritz was damn well going to try. Painting was something cathartic, something that would take his mind off of the incident at the funhouse and focus on another thing entirely. As much as his twin objected to leaving him alone in the middle of a crowded street after only just barely leaving the hospital, it was something that Fritz needed.
There were a million people milling about, and for quite some time Fritz lost himself in the painting, moving only his hand on the canvas and his eyes as they scanned those around him, searching for inspiration. Anyone who passed by was game, and he let the brush strokes work for him, sketching here and there anything - or anyone - he thought interesting.
A child in yellow overalls. A young man with vibrantly green hair and a skateboard tucked under one arm. A golden haired boy and a redheaded girl strolling hand in hand, gazing lovingly into one another's eyes. An elderly man with a pudging stomach and a cane.
He didn't know how much time had passed, but the familiar voice was successful in dragging Fritz out of his trace. A slow smile eased its way onto his face.
"Maybe they will, someday," he said, and then turned around, the smile widening.
"Delilah, it's a delight to see you again."
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Posted: Fri Feb 20, 2015 4:21 pm
"And you as well, Fritz." Her smile was just as wide and just as bright as she met his eyes. Delilah allowed herself to linger like that for a moment, her mind remembering the kiss he planted on her hand, before breaking the look to return her focus to the canvus.
"You draw from anything that catches your eye, don't you? I saw you shift your gaze several times before your brush hit the canvus and then it seemed to take a mind of its own. I almost couldn't follow it." She stepped beside him, reaching out towards the piece. "A very fluid and natural movement. You aren't trying to impress like many of the others I have watched this afternoon." Her hand stopped inches from it, visually tracing the lines he had made in a continuous motion.
"I never would have guessed you had such an eye." Her hand finally dropped and she looked back towards the artist himself. Still smiling, Delilah allowed herself a sigh. "But then again, you did walk up to me." The smile became a playful grin, watching his reaction for her boldness in voice.
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Posted: Fri Feb 20, 2015 8:12 pm
He was trying very hard not to show just how bad he was feeling, since he'd snuck out of the hospital instead of staying there, recuperating as he should have been. It probably would have been in his best interests to try and heal, but his mental state had made him more interested in actually getting out and pretending that everything was fine.
(Even if it wasn't.)
"I do," Fritz said cheerfully. "I kind of just...let my vision wander, and whatever I see that I want to draw, I do. It's kind of..." He waved the brush a little, and a few random spots of paint spattered the ground around him. "cathartic, I guess? I like to not think about things."
His expression turned delighted. "That is a lovely compliment, thank you so much for that. I don't really care for all of the rules and regulations set by standard art classes, so it's very nice that you think of my art so highly. I am most honored."
A laugh escaped him, and Fritz set the brush down on the easel, wiping his hands on the smock he was currently wearing. This didn't do much to prevent the paint from getting on his jeans, where there were already several stains. "I did, and I don't regret it at all."
There was a small pause; his face softened.
"How have you been?"
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Posted: Wed Feb 25, 2015 8:42 pm
"Sounds like this is a relaxing time for you?" Delilah smiled as she took a step back, avoiding the paint spray on her own jeans or shoes. Admiring someones work was one thing. Being covered in it, something completely different. She was not in the mood to be learning how to take paint out of denim tonight.
He on the other hand seemed not to mind and this made Delilah shake her head. How many layers of paint had those pants seen if this was something he did often? In a way, she was surprised there were not more stains.But his comment made her lean her head. He was playing with her own words and turning them back. "Yet." She added, holding up one finger to stress the point.
But Fritz' question had her shoulders drop and her eyes soften. A passing of worry went across her face as she looked away from him and back to the canvus. "To be frank," She started, one hand coming up to rest on her hip. "I have been better." Her gaze turned back to him, lips trying to curl into a smile. "It's been a long few days and I have seen more of the hospital than I want to for a long time."
Silence passed for a moment until Delilah's shoulders rose in a shrug. "Oh well. The doctors are giving good news so that's something to be grateful for. What about yourself? Spending more time walking around in masks?"
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Posted: Mon Mar 23, 2015 12:25 pm
"I think relaxing is just what we all need right about now," said Fritz grandly, though it was true. Everything that had happened to them over the past few days and weeks had meant that they were all in dire need of some down time, some time simply to breathe.
His smile grew more mischievous at the "yet." "Somehow," said Fritz, casting a smile at Delilah. "I doubt you could do anything that would make me wish to be unfriendly towards you, unless you're secretly some sort of serial killer murderer person, which I sincerely doubt because you're much too lovely."
The look of worry on her face made his smile grow a little softer, a little less playful. He knew what it meant, what it implied, and Fritz twisted his own fingers together, smearing paint across his skin, sweeping across the palms of his hands without intending or realizing.
"I think I was supposed to be in the hospital myself," said Fritz (a gross understatement)."But it was so cloying in there; I felt like I couldn't breathe, so I may or may not have cut my visit a little shorter than it was intended to be." (Another gross understatement.)
A gentle laugh escaped him. "Not as of late," he said with amusement, which was true. He didn't wear a mask as Celsus. "I don't suppose you'd feel up to joining me for a late lunch? It's a little crowded here, I think it'd be much nicer to talk where it's quieter."Sirene Naiads omg I am the worst I'm so sorry sjdkflksfd
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Posted: Fri May 22, 2015 9:13 pm
His words drew her full attention back to his face. The smile, as weak as it was, began to slip at the corners until it became nearly an 'o' shape expression. Shoulders dropping, she realized she was staring and that needed to change. "I'm sorry you got caught up in it as well." Her voice was full of serenity and peace as she dared reach out a hand to touch his arm.
She had seen first hand what those monsters had done to the senshi. How many had they not been able to save? But they had saved someone. Hannah was one and that was enough for her.
"Fritz, how short did you cut your visit?" Her eyes finally turned to his face and cocked a brow. "You aren't going to fall over on me are you?" The tone made it clear it was meant as a joke but it did not mean she was not concerned.
The concern was pushed aside at the mentioned of food. If he could eat, then that was a good sign. When ill, last thing Delilah ever wanted was solid food. A gentle nod and she moved to give him a touch of room. "That sounds lovely. Tell me, what do I need to do to help you with all this..." She stopped herself from saying mess as her hands gestured to items and paint. "color." She finished with a charming shrug.
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