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Posted: Sat Feb 04, 2017 8:34 pm
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It's dark out, when Alexis gets back to real Ashdown; dark enough that they're very close to breaking their curfew, if it's even the same day - they lost track of time in other Ashdown. They do that a lot. It's nicer over there, after all, but - for all they know Jeremiah doesn't know everything, at the very least, if they have been missing (and given they're not going to make it back to Nasir's house before the sun fully sets, anyways) he's the best one to talk to so they don't get in more trouble than they already do. There are times it's better to play it safe. At ground level, everything's dangerous, anyways.
Their fingers are still shaking, shivering, and it takes them too long to type the text:
Quote: to: Mercer hey. im at 12th+franklin can u pick me up? not hurt i dont think but theres no way i can get back 2 house be4 sunset, 2 far away sry
The sorry is out-of-character, but they're feeling a little remorseful for now, so -- Alexis pulls their jacket tighter and shivers, making sure Kiel's hat isn't going to blow off their head, and tucks their phone back into their jacket pocket. Hopefully Jeremiah won't just blow it off as a joke. They've had people blow off the 'pick me up, please' texts before, and -- it hurts. A lot.
They stand against the wall and wait.
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Posted: Sat Feb 04, 2017 9:50 pm
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Posted: Sun Feb 05, 2017 8:35 am
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Alexis is smaller than Jeremiah - this is hardly news - but the way they're standing makes them look even smaller, with their damp clothes clinging too close to the skin, the way their hair is pushed backwards so it doesn't fall across the sides of their neck. They are, as always, too skinny; wet sand on their knees, their fingers pulled into loose fists as if to keep them from wandering.
When he pulls up, Alexis looks up a few seconds later with their newly strange-dark eyes - lost in their own thoughts - but says nothing, not yet, not until they're in the car and buckled in: they fidget, trying to get comfortable and apparently not able to find it, pushing their hair behind their shoulders whenever it tries to escape; their neck is still tender, and the pale raised lines on it are an invitation if anything ever is.
"So I tried t'kill myself," they say, quiet and hoarse, almost conversational despite the topic. "How's your day?"
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Posted: Sun Feb 05, 2017 8:57 pm
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Jeremiah's own eyes have not been human for some time. They reflect light back like an animal's, the pupil a luminescent blue. and there were moments where they seemed to glow because of it. Those same eyes were looking Alexis over, taking in the eyes and the raised skin at their neck. He had made a living of being observant and with eyes that were attuned to the little bits of extra magic-
Well, he's noticed but he'd get to it eventually.
Especially when they open with with comments like I tried to kill myself.
"Bloody Christ, Tucker," he breathes out, letting out a heavy breath. "My day has been, even now, the usual fare." Then, of course, he starts to drive and glances at them out of the corner of his eye. "Start talking."
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Posted: Sun Feb 05, 2017 9:20 pm
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Alexis coughs, on cue, because still they can't breathe in full - it'll take time, they know, they know - they can't rush an adjustment. Once, twice. It's not the ugly wet noises it was earlier with Kiel, when their lungs were filled with water, but it's still a harsh, raspy sound.
"I mean -" they're diverting. "Didn't fail 'cause of me, if that counts any...'s stupid now. But -" their fingers twist, intertwine, constant movement in their lap while they pause, trying to find the words - "One of Zac's friends found me in other ashdown, n' she started talkin' about how I was gonna hurt Zac an' how he was her property, her business, n' I --" swallow. Finger over thumb, looping again and again; the friction pinks their skin, barely. "Lost it. Hit her with a wave. Dunno how bad she got hurt -- I heard somethin' crack and I ran."
A pause. They won't, can't, look at Jeremiah yet. He can interject, if he so wants.
One breath in, one breath out.
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Posted: Mon Feb 06, 2017 10:15 pm
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"Clark. The blonde one. The nurse." Alexis can't recall if they know her first name -- maybe, somewhere in the back of their head -- but even if they knew, they wouldn't say, because this is still too close to it and for god's sake they can't start crying again so soon.
Jeremiah goes calm-steady with his voice and Alexis shudders a little, ducking their head, trying not to but - it's instinctual. What are they, but a creature of instincts? They know the calm before the storm, and Jeremiah wouldn't hurt them here and now for a number of reasons they can immediately call to mind (bad publicity, a little voice whispers, it sounds like their brother), but it's never going to be unlearned.
"What day is it?" They don't know if they can trust their own phone - they don't know how long they were over there, running and reaching to the cold dark water, their muscles strained to the point of giving out. "...if I've been missin', I need to call my boss....tell Nasir I'm okay..." Alexis doesn't sound enthused, or particularly capable, regarding either.
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Posted: Tue Feb 07, 2017 9:39 pm
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Alexis does not, will not, meet Jeremiah's eyes - there's a murmured "Same day, then," because they can't trust their own perception of time in the otherworld anymore, haven't since they were a tithe. (It'd seemed longer than a few months. They know it was longer than a few months. The healing skin of the brand when they'd made it back -- it can't have been only a few months. But they'll never know, will they? Alois isn't around anymore.)
"'s Zac's jacket - " and although part of their quiet is due to their sore throat, not all of it - "didn't want t'get it wet." Breathe in, breathe out. "M'eyes hurt. ...did you know Oblivion's just hangin' out in the otherworld? Went for a swim." They're a little wistful, even now. "It was just...quiet."
Another few moments of silence. "...does it ever get better? The whole -- wantin' to die cause I'm a waste of space and I wasn't born good and I'll never be good -- thing?"
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Posted: Wed Feb 08, 2017 6:37 pm
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Were it a topic of conversation, and it never likely would be, Jeremiah would have the same perception. The painful wheeze of breath through his body, the feeling of fire everywhere burning everything, and the soothing touch of- Needless to say, the time it had taken to heal had been far, far longer than the time he had been gone on this time.
He takes the information in stride about it being Zac's jacket, just like he is certain that there's likely a hairclip in their hair that is probably one of Nasir's. Alexis collects things for those that are important to them and wears them like they are tributes, like this is how people will know that they would go to the ends of the earth to protect those close to them.
"I am," he says with a sigh, "not surprised that there is and also not surprised you found it to swim in. Your eyes are looking a bit- Well, they are certainly not the same they were the last time I saw you. Along with the ..." His hand flicks briefly off the steering will, gestures to his neck and then puts his hand back down to use the turn signal. Jeremiah is quiet for a time, searching for the words before he finally speaks.
"It does," he replies quietly, "but it takes time and being around people who make you realize you aren't that. It's a process that takes one day at a time." His eyes, reflecting light back and glowing faintly for it. "Also giving people who tell you otherwise a wide berth or telling to bugger off."
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Posted: Wed Feb 08, 2017 7:02 pm
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"I wasn't born good," Alexis repeats, quiet; it's terrible car safety, but they pull their legs up to their chest and clutch them tight, their knuckles white, their fingers digging into their sodden clothing. If they let go of it they'll pick at their own arms, their fingers, their newfound gills -- they know they know they know, but they can't just stop and stand still. It's reasons like this their clothes are threadbare, those that are their own and not borrowed out of pride/respect/protection/same heart same hands together -- they can't stop. "I know. I know 's true. Everyone tells me that, before I came here." They sound like a child, again; in situations like this, their pretense of being a sincere predator with little remorse stripped bare, they revert back to - what they were, once. "I thought Alois could help me, but --"
He just made me worse, is what it's clear they mean to say, but don't.
"Do I have to go home," Alexis sniffles, quiet, hoarse, "can I stay at your house, I'll be good, I promise. I'll be good. Not like this -- I can't go home."
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Posted: Wed Feb 08, 2017 8:40 pm
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There is a key branded into Alexis' chest, scarred into their sternum, and at times like this it itches, because they told Alois what they were proud of -- their quick fingers, their ability to get away with it, because he asked -- and he marked them with what they were proud of. Trying to go legal, trying to make Zac happy, isn't the only reason -- but so much of it is blurry, again and again, and it escapes from between their fingers when they try and take specifics to speak about. It might as well have been another life.
(The person you were dies there, they'd said, and it'd sounded like a joke but they hadn't been joking. The Alexis who came to Ashdown, all the way back last spring, is barely a distant memory; they might as well be long-buried, the worms crawling in and out, their bones picked clean for the carrion eaters long ago.)
"Everyone said I was a bad kid. Wasn't the perfect daughter my parents wanted. Couldn't be good." They're just getting it out, bitter and raw, before it can fester any more tonight. "I know I'm not good. I don't know how t'be good. I want to hurt other people, I want t'be hurt -- " Alexis swallows, harsh, and takes a breath that sounds like it might be the prelude to a breakdown - one more, two more - the sound doesn't repeat. "Can you tell them -- can y'tell them what happened so I don't have to. Please."
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Posted: Sun Feb 12, 2017 9:33 pm
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Jeremiah's knuckles are tight on the steering wheel, his expression gone entirely neutral. There is pain in Alexis and here it is visible and plain to the eye.
"I can do that," he says slowly, letting out a slow exhale, "and tell them where you are for the evening but you're still going to have to deal with them later." For what they tried to do, for how people will react. He's not sure that he is alright with what he is going to tell Nasir and Zac but he will tell them. Truth is deserved and Alexis asked.
Jeremiah takes another breath before he speaks again. "You have done things that are bad, you have hurt people, but you are trying to change," he tells them. "That, in itself, is good. Besides," there is a look on his face, a small strange smile (because he thinks of his father and how the man should rot), "if your parents are not happy that you are simply yourself then they are wrong."
... and in this instance, he speaks from experience (but when did he not).
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Posted: Sun Feb 12, 2017 10:04 pm
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Alexis' lips go tight -- not the precursor to more crying (their cheeks are still tear-stained from the fit before, wet paths traced down over their freckles), but close - they don't look forward to confrontation. It hurts. And what makes it worse is that Zac is going to understand, because -- they told him to stay alive. To fight the urge, even if it's just for them, even if it's selfish and stupid just to give him a reason to be there and stay there.
I gave in, Alexis thinks even though they know that's not the right way to put it, they know they're not supposed to phrase it like it's giving up -- but -- it's hard, to think about it any other way. (For a second they glance at Jeremiah's fingers tight around the steering wheel, and think of Harper holding their hair back as they shook on their knees in the bathroom, the window was open and they were cold with the breeze - that's not it, not like this, but it's their best comparison. Not disappointment, but stay alive, Alexis, it will get better for you, I promise - if only to spite them. No apologies for things he'd had no control over. Only only only --)
They pick at a stray thread. "I can -- I can do that. Just not over the phone." Their voice has gotten progressively more quiet throughout. "...m'throat really hurts. Can I stop talkin'?" Even in this, Alexis asks permission for something so simple, like they're worried it won't be granted; not that Jeremiah can force them to keep talking, but they feel obligated at this point because --
because he didn't have to pick them up. That's all it means. Because he did pick them up, anyways, and that's -- more than they can convey.
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