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table © Alaine
ooc: Frosty, mine wifey :3
wc: 500+
The morning light was cool and frail.
It carried the sweet scent of winter, a heralding zephyr that teased it's way through the mighty forests, danced along the rocky spine of mountains, was tossed on the waves of the ocean. Pine and snow, salt and sweet oxygen, threaded by the needles of brittle sunlight that pierced the tatters cloths hanging over the gaping maw of her window.
The woman was sitting on the bed. She'd been sitting, simply sitting, for a long time now - Since dawn, when she had awoken from a restless sleep. Dark shadows curled beneath dull, unpolished emerald eyes. Unfocused pupils gazed at the shafts of light, at the peculiarly distorted and broken ripples they made across her scratched wooden floor.
Ivory palms were folded together peacefully, like the corpses of two tranquil white doves - unmoving, listless. She could hear the breeze calling, beckoning, from beyond the curtained window. It wanted to run cool, refreshing fingers through her hair. It wanted to catch the bubbling sound of her laughter and cast it, far and wide, spreading like ripples through the sweeping plains of Cour des Miracles. And yet still the woman sat in the darkness, perched at the edge of a vicious tangle of sheets like a creamy bird with broken wing.
For a long while, it seemed as if she'd become a statue - Only the occasional shiver of pert breasts as dank air was pulled into lungs, a protrusion of collar bone as it was exhaled. The occasional flicked of narrowed pupils, watching the beams of light edge closer and closer to her neat footpaws as time slipped mercilessly onwards.
It had been two weeks since the miscarriage, adn the pack Apothecary had become a ghost, haunting the halls of the Chien hotel. Nobody had really seen her, or if they had, she'd been a fake smile and tired eyes. Nothing unusual, for the healer was a workaholic, and had been known to work herself to exhaustion before. But if she'd gifted them with the time to look closer, one might observe the hollowness of her eyes - As if the soul inside her body had been scooped out, leaving only a beautiful shell, a husk of the woman they knew.
The light had reached her toes. She felt, for the first time in 14 days, it's wane warmth. Perhaps the healing process of her heart had finally begun.
With a sudden strength, the restless wind forced it's way through the blanketed window. For a moment, brilliant, scathing light filled the tomb-like chamber - The delicate collie scrunched up her eyes as pupils shivered, trying to adjust to the sudden brilliant change of light. And the wind, why, it swelled into the room like an unstoppable tide; billowing auburn ringlets, tossing sheets, casting her shadow against the wall and pinning it there. The smells of the world invaded her den, and the woman snarled - She wasn't ready for this, not yet, she just needed more time-
There. On the wind. The seated woman froze, lowing her arms from her face where they had flown in defense. Watering emerald eyes gazed out, blindly, at the glaring sunlight as pink nose twitched. Ivory hands fell limply to her hands as a wavering smile, oh so slightly, curled about the woman's pixie maw. She knew that smell. She had craved that smell, for many months now. Just the slightest whiff of lavender, carried up to her by the relentless wind.
Had her daughter finally come home?
Speak think walk
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table © Alaine
ooc: <3 Wifey!
WC: 700+
The air was silent and heavy.
Threatening a storm, perhaps, a high pressure formation breaking and bending the atmosphere above their world with a resolve found only in nature itself. A determination to complete a task unspoken, to churn the tides of the sea and crack the stony bones of mountains, to bend the unyielding forests to a will beyond that of the normal. It hung heavy on her shoulders, pointing out the frailties of her decisions, of the bright light clinging fervently to caramel and cream fur.
The child was returning home. Alas, a child no more, she had grown without the watchful eye of her adopted mother, kept from the close embrace of her adopted brother. Left as the single blossom in the field of cattails, alone, fragile, stubborn. For though her roots were strong, they still snapped beneath the pressure, splitting like hairs beneath an axe, allowing the delicate blossom to blow freely upon the wind. Darkness pervaded once cheery violet gems, quashing the excited light from her return to Cour Des Miracles soil. What awaited the young maiden inside? Her adopted family surely had enough of her unreasonable absence, her inadequate attendances to important matters.
Alabaster hands clung tightly to one another before their owner, though whether in prayer or to chase away the gripping chill of nervousness was unclear. Breast rose and fell in a sharp intake of air as the slender Optime debated on a course of action. It was pertinent she rekindle her relationships with her family- they were all she had, and likely ever would have. They lit the flame in her soul that kept her alive, prevented the broken babe that washed ashore that night from passing into the light. They, the valkyries of her battlefield, had brought her to Valhalla... and then she forsook them, leaving the sacred place for a life unhindered.
She stood there, silent, statuesque, until finally, one shaking hand rose to the handle of the bronze lion knocker, soothing the savagely carved beast with a light caress before pushing the heavy old doors open. Ghastly creaks resounded throughout the old hotel, causing Sylvie to shrink back in alarm, soft multi-faceted bangs falling before her blurring gaze. Is anyone at home...? She thought, the prevailing silence and lack of activity leading the gypsy to investigate.
Peeking into the lobby, Sylvie gawked at the familiar scene beneath a wave of nostalgia, finally stepping into the dilapidated old building. Memories danced through partial-consciousness as the lilac collie girl settled one curved footpaw onto the torn shag rug at the staircase, and then another. No one came to greet her, no one came to show her back out. Thusfar, it appeared the traveling girl was alone in this old building, even as she took a gandering sniff of the air, searching for those familiar scents. Of all the old and stale smells, only one was recent... current, even.
Harkened maiden stopped short as the faint, light scent of pine, mingling with those of crushed herbs, drying on the stand above the lilac dove's head. One ear rose while the other continued to droop, flopped over itself permanently from birth. No sound reached the yearling beyond the symphony of the creaking building, the chilled zephyr dancing through its cracked rooms and leaf-filled yard. Summoning her courage, Sylvie took to the leaning staircase, dodging a memorized creaking stair.
She slipped a bit on the rug atop the landing, claws scrabbling only a little to regain their purchase in the floor. Creamy fairy maw swiveled side to side as chocolate nose sought out the source of the ever-strengthening scent, leading her up and down the hall to the ajar gateway that was Alaine's room. As if she was stepping into a shadow realm, Sylvie gently pushed the door completely open, dodging the shaded shapes that seemed to grab at tender feet. "Al... Alaine?" Came a concerned tone, marked by that familiar french lilt, that soft trademark whisper. Sylvie stared agape at what had become of her adopted mother, her guardian angel. Sitting in a mass of tangled sheets, it was obvious something was amiss with the creamy woman, something beyond her son's apparently similar vanishing act. "Are you alright... mother?"
Could she do anything to help?
Speak. Think. Walk.
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table © Alaine
ooc: <3 <3 she's speaking gaelic, her home-language :3
wc: 300+
She sensed it, sensed the change in the air as only a mother can as, down below, the ghastly lion guardians creaked aside to admit the banished princess back into her once-home. The old building groaned and creaked, settling with a sigh back onto it's concrete feet, as though it too could sense the return of Alaine's half-heart, her second child. The mother smiled, her emerald eyes shut against the bright light; upturned face was sculpted by the brilliant waves of it, pulsing into the room from where the wind had blown tattered curtains aghast. Pixie maw lifted slightly as Alaine felt the warmth seeping back into her frail bones, her famished and broken body rocking slightly forward and backwards. A creak in the hall. Ivory fingers fisted in bone-white sheets.
The door creaked open, and Alaine's broken heart sang out in a mixture of soul-tearing pain and glorious, glorious joy.
Head turned to face the gentle, unsure voice, heard the avid concern within familiar accented tones. The sunlight gilded one side of Alaine's face, highlighting the hollows of her cheeks, lackluster fur and once glorious spill of auburn ringlets now dull and lank about a delicate face pinched by grief. She had lost everything in the past month - Lost her son, lost her daughter, lost her love, lost the lives of those she would have come to love. The woman's life had collided - a catastrophic collision of past and present, tearing at her sanity.
But Sylvie had returned. Her daughter, of heart not blood, had come back to her.
A single tear, the very first to fall since the night of her miscarriage, streaked it's way down the dull ivory wash of one cheek. Diamonds glittered in it's path.
"Sylvie... My Sylvie..." The woman's accented voice was cracked from disuse. It had been two weeks since she had spoken a single word. A bubble of sickly laughter spilled from the woman's pixie maw, ebbing out into the silence like a sob, "Oh, lách leanbh... My daughter..." And in an act of total vulnerability, the mother stretched out her arms, longing to hold the lilac fairy close, longing to know that this was not some cruel hallucination brought forth from emaciation.
Speak think walk
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table © Alaine
ooc: <3 Okies. :3
WC: 500+
Sylvie forced herself to remain stoic in her expression, fighting off the will to gape at the ghost that was her once valkyrie-like guardian, to stare at the hollowed sinking of her cheeks as the skeleton like form turned so slightly to gaze at her. When was the last time the woman had eaten...? Had anything to drink...? Or even been outside of the bone-chilling room she once called her bedroom? Violet eyes shot to life, betraying her worry for the older collie in shining glares of highlighted color. What had become of the once proud apothecary? The woman that backsassed even the wild King of Cour Des Miracles himself?
Alaine had once been a great, grand example of a woman on a mission, a female uncontrolled, strong, unafraid. That fire, that everlasting lust for feministic rights and saving lives, for fending off unwanted attention and handling wild vagabond children... where had it gone? Was it lost beneath that icy barrier, the cold grip of frost that Sylvie too endured, the tomb quenching all of the flame until something lit it hotter and brighter than before. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, Sylvie had recovered and grown into a sociable, understanding young woman, and hopefully the same could be said for her once proud Savior. Alaine needed to be reborn from the dying ashes of her previous fire, reignited in a blaze of flaming passions... but for now, things would have to be handled delicately.
Her idol had cracked, bent, lost herself to something beyond her control.
And that required careful manuevering and soft forward command. Her attentions slipped back to the present, eyes catching the glint of tear stains on Alaine's sunken cheeks. Sylvie blinked back tears herself then, trying still harder as the creamy valiant spoke. Her creaking voice startled the young woman, coupled with the use of a language unknown to the lilac beauty. She came forward all too eagerly into Alaine's embrace besides, but it was now more than ever obvious something was amiss. Alaine had always struggled with her daughter's French, and now she was speaking something Sylvie had never heard before? Added onto that lackluster appearance, the state of her mind, the vastly different manner in which the creamy dove presented herself, a frail stick to what she once was beneath soft ivory paws... it was terrifying. Immediately, Sylvie's thoughts settled onto a path of least resistance, pondering methods of returning her beloved mother to her once stubborn self, even as she held her tight.
"I'm here, don't worry..." She said soothingly, amazed with the situation. How could Caillen leave his mother in such a state? Or had he left prior to her apparent destruction, following a vanishing scent on the wind while his dam slowly sunk into a heavy depression? He had always said he would protect them both, after all... in taking his leave of Alaine, he forfeited that ability... and so had Sylvie. Damn it all! Guilt washed over the slender fairy, forming chills through sensitive spine as she finally pulled away to better survey her mother. "Alaine... when was the last time you ate something?" She asked then, maw settling into a straight, no nonsense sort of line. Ever the stubborn mother-figure, Sylvie couldn't let Alaine stay like that any longer.
Speak. Think. Walk.
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table © Alaine
ooc:
wc: 500+
Perhaps it was because the rush of emotion had made her giddy, or perhaps it was because of the mental turmoil that ate away at her mind and body like an unforgiving cancer; Whatever the case, the once stern and proper lady had become a fragile thing, a piece of creamy parchment scrunched in the palm of a merciless hand, until her visage was so crisscrossed with the lines of grief and weariness that she no longer resembled that which she'd once been. When Sylvie's arms entwined with her own, the woman sank into her daughter's lustrous mocha and lavender pelt, her own frame seemingly smaller in size than that of the girl. Within the other lady's embrace, Alaine bones seemed to rattle in her frame.
However, it became immediately apparent that just the mere sight of her twice-disappeared kin was enough to bring a wisp of Alaine's consciousness back to her. The clouds that had fogged vague, listless emeralds cleared slightly, twin pupils focusing on her daughter's face. Sylvie was... Sylvie was a young lady now. Even as her adopted daughter spoke, the Apothecary was lifting one hand to her cheek, reveling in how startlingly pretty the girl had become. She had grown into the grace of a danger, much alike Alaine's own lean form when in health - Lithe and slender, with a waist like a willow stem, and eyes so violet that they reminded the weary healer of fields of wildflowers.
The collie girl was transformed, free of her cocoon at last, it seemed. Alaine felt the faint echoes of pride within her burnt-out heart. She had saved this girl once upon a moonlit night, and now, at last, her beloved Sylvie was here to save Alaine from herself.
"I don't... I don't remember, Sy. I'm just so tired..." The woman's eyes glazed again, but the dangerous fog did not return. She felt numb, as if there was some great an horrible pain waiting just around the corner, but so long as she remained in this state of floating and of half-existence, it would stay at bay. "Just... So tired..." It had been too long since she'd slept healthily, and it seemed as if the past 14 days were catching up with the woman in one great rush. There was something... Something she had to ask... Something Sylvie had to know...
But her mind was just so muddled, she couldn't think straight. Besides, Sylvie had that look on her face; a look that was so alike the one that Alaine had pulled at her when she was young, had the healer been in her right mind, she might have laughed aloud.
It was going to take some nursing, but Alaine would survive this, as she had survived all things. Although small and fragile in appearance, the woman had a knack for existing; A stubborn fist that clung to life, no matter how desperately she sometimes wished to let go. However, with health would come her memory, and with that would come the pain - Sylvie had a difficult path before her if she wished to pull her foster-mother back from the brink.
Speak think walk
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table © Alaine
ooc: I blame school! -snuggles Alaineylaine-
WC: 500+
For a moment, it seemed as if the world had stopped.
Sylvie leaned a soft cheek into Alaine's lifted hand, watching closely as the peach and cream dame seemed to retrieve pieces of her regular self. She didn't realize what sort of an effect her presence itself would have on the older collie, but now she seemed to grasp it as she looked deep into those once vibrant emerald gems. That mothering instinct, hidden beneath the fogs and vague scenery seemed to peek out of those darkened eyes, providing them with at least a little bit of light. It was a wonder the healer hadn't truly grasped what she was doing to herself, hiding away from whatever depressing facts might have sent her into a heavy depression.
The lilac young lady lifted her head a moment, catching the faint whisperings of her mother's response to those earlier questions. She blinked in surprise, almost recoiling before a more obvious reaction settled onto her face. Sylvie momentarily hung her head, a small gesture of the wrinkle-causing disdain at the knowledge of her foster-mother's last meal being beyond her memory. That could mean she had it yesterday, or it could mean she ate last week and not since. She knew that sometimes even those with the greatest memories couldn't remember what they ate that morning, let alone what they had the day before, or even if they had eaten something all together. "Goodness me..." She said then, embracing her frail guardian again before she finally pulled away. "I'll go see what's laying around the hotel then... you really need to eat something..." Since you look like a deteriorating twig... She thought that last part, sighing a bit.
If there was one thing Alaine imparted on her young charge, it was certainly to do whatever it took to keep your loved ones well. And for the young mocha and cream beauty, that literally meant anything. Fluffy tail swished about behind slender form as she debated on making Alaine come out with her. One step at a time now, one step at a time...
Deciding against it, Sylvie pulled on her serious-face and waggled a finger at Alaine. "Now mother, I want you to stay here. But let some of that sun on you, hm? You'll feel better." She chuckled, a somewhat sheepish smile dancing over creamy maw as she realized how much she sounded like Alaine... except with a bit of a lilt. Nodding her head decisively, Sylvie turned to head out of the room, soft chocolate nose already keen for scents of meat and foods. She knew not the last time someone had stocked the kitchen, but if she had to go catch something, she very obviously would.
It would take some work, but the violet-eyed yearling was determined to bring her foster-mother back from the edges of death's door. To help restore that once lovely beauty back to her old, attractive self, built so much similarly to her adopted child, however, would take days, or even weeks of working with the older collie. Her travelling wills would have to be postponed... but what did it matter? Alaine wasn't going to be rotting away in the corner of the Chien Hotel, becoming a transparent wailing banshee of terrible sorrow, as long as Sylvie had anything to say about it.
Speak. Think. Walk.
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table © Alaine
ooc: me too <3
wc: 500+
For a long while, it seemed as if the unlikely but suited pair would be content forever in the heart-felt embrace of one another. For Alaine, the wiry strength of her daughter's arms was a life-line, the sweet lavender scent of her violet-tinged mocha pelt a second chance at what had been slowly slipping away from her in the past few weeks. Sanity. Love. When Sylvie withdrew, her startling purple eyes were piqued with disapproval at the cream and ivory dame's nonchalance regarding her last meal. Food seemed so... Distasteful. Unimportant when one was determined to survive on longing and memories alone.
However, the healer was not noted as the Cour des Miracles Apothecary (and more so, for she had healed many from other packs who had sought her aid) for nothing - Somewhere, in the dark crevices of her old consciousness, the woman could recall that food was necessary, and that eating something was likely to clear the clouds in her mind much quicker than simply sitting would. Sylvie's words echoed that dormant thought, and as she pulled her listless foster-mother back into a warm hug Alaine simply smiled vaguely, her emerald eyes trailing over the other's grown form.
The maiden's mention of searching for food provoked a strange reaction from the prime-aged martyr. Shallow jade orbs immediately grew dark, and her maw opened as if to ask or plead her daughter's presence to remain. But the sudden terror of being left alone subsided quickly; Sylvie would not leave her. She could see it in the girl's eyes, that determined glint that reminded her so much of her own kindred. Her foster daughter had made up her mind on something crucial, and the healer knew her decisions to be stubbornly concrete. With a reluctant smile, Alaine nodded numbly. If she was in her right mind, the matriarch may have chided her child for using such a stern and dominant tone, but in her weakness Alaine possessed a strange weary submissiveness, as if she knew that what Sylvie chose to do would be best for her in the long run.
Her gaze only returned to the window once the lilac girl had left the room. Sunlight now filtered in, warming her pelt and the protrusions beneath it. One floppy caramel ear flitted back to hear her daughters motions downstairs, as she no doubt rummaged for food - There would be some strips of dried deer-meat that Alaine had treated with salt a few weeks ago to preserve them, and perhaps a few of the small fish-cakes that she had likewise cured for longevity. Such meats were good for preserving for the oncoming winter, when land-dwelling prey disappeared and the fish were protected by the ice-cold waters. Alaine had fallen behind on her up-keep; If the winter was harsh, the fact that she had not stored away much meat would mean for lean pickings. It would be foolhardy to rely on the presence of snow-hares to survive.
Such thoughts flitted through her head like a pair of sparrows, darting this and thus, never truly grounding itself to conscious recognition. All the while the woman simply sat at the edge of her bed, smiling slightly as too-old emerald eyes gazed blindly out at nothing.
Speak think walk
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table © Alaine
ooc: WAH. Long wait. <<
WC: 600+
Sylvie flitted about downstairs in the creaky, dilapidated old building, claws clicking on the rough wooden floors while fingers ruffled their way into untamed mane. What was she going to do? The cupboards had thusfar yielded little, and the half-destroyed cooling apparatus, a refrigerator, she thought it was once called, held but a few morsels of food. Sighing a bit, ivory fingers untangled themselves from silky lilac fur, hanging at the curve of slender hips while alabaster maw rose to the air above her. A vast sigh escaped the frustrated yearling as she checked one, last cabinet... Eureka! A few strips of cured, dried deer-meat, some small fish-cakes... not as much as the collie babe had hoped to find in the usually multi-inhabited Chien hotel, but it was certainly better than nothing at all. Picking at the bits of food, violet eyes warily selected the most delectable of the various kinds of sustenance, snowy touch grasping a single fish cake, four strips of deer-meat. These were placed upon a piece of carved wood, likely once a decorative plate, as a method of bringing the things up to the now fading Apothecary.
Sylvie sighed a moment as she reached the lobby once more, foodstuffs in hand. Oh Alaine... what had reduced the once snappish bitch into a weak little whelp? Sylvie wracked her mind for anything, anything at all, that could possibly be the reason for such a drastic change... and happened once more upon her leave of this place, this warm, loving atmosphere that had brought her back from the brink. If she had never left, never strayed from the borders of the Cour Des Miracles pack lands... would Alaine still be intact? Would Caillen never have left his mother to the darkened, bruised depths of her own mind? Sylvie had known it from the moment she coherently saw the cream collie shea- something had happened, a long, long time ago, and resulted in more emotional trauma than a lovely young lady such as she should ever have faced.
But then again, Sylvie could easily say something similar about herself. Perhaps that was why they connected as they had- both had suffered immense, painful, horrific experiences that they never meant to bring upon themselves... and perhaps, this was also the reason Caillen had finally left. Memories flooded back to the moon-spun fae as vibrant wine-colored eyes dropped to the floor gracefully arched feet stood upon. Her dear cobalt knight... a gentle giant with an impossible quest, a dream farther out of reach than even Sylvie would admit. His wish to protect the women in his life from anything that could happen to them... it was impossible.
Especially now.
Now... Alaine and Sylvie had far more trauma in common than before. Clearing her thoughts of that terrible memory, Sylvie padded her way back up the stairs, peeking once again into the dark, quiet room where her guardian, her sentinel, that once beautiful valkyrie that liberated a dying whelp from the grasp of hell, sat so very silently, deadened eyes staring at nothing. "Alaine...? I've brought you something to eat..." She began, approaching so as to not startle the elder collie fae. She seemed to frown as she brought the plate over to her foster mother, taking a seat beside her before offering the plate up. "Eat up. You'll need it to bring back your strength. Honestly mother, you can't live off darkness and dirt. You're not a mushroom." A slight smile settled across slim fairy maw while slender hands awaited the acceptance of the food. They did indeed have much more in common than either knew.
Speak think walk
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table © Alaine
ooc: <3 let me know when you're ready for our confrontation thread! it will have to be backdated, methinkuth, if that's okay with you c:
wc: 500+
It was amazing, really, how much of the mortal condition was connected with the inner workings of the mind. Alaine would never be able to tell Sylvie that it was not food that could sustain her back to health, but the presence of her daughter instead - Food for the spirit, and for the heart, was needed just as essentially as food for blood and flesh. The apothecary had always known this, for in her life, she had been starved and seen those starved of all sorts of manna, and it was always those of the heart that were most fatal. Sitting now as she was, sunlight gilding matted fur, the collie-woman allowed that numb smile to return to her elegant features. Strength was returning to her.
When Sylvie's voice broke her silent Revere, the lady tilted her head so that emerald eyes could closely observe the other. Her foster daughter entered bearing a plate of dried meats and a maternal frown. Alaine's smile grew, e'er so slightly, but it was a bittersweet emotion. She could see it in Sylvie's very eyes, those two pools of finest amethyst, that her daughter had felt the whiplash of life as she had. Perhaps it had made her stronger, as it had made the Apothecary stronger. Emerald eyes shone with sudden adoration. She had become beautiful, this girl, more beautiful no doubt than she even realized. Sylvie had always been to practical for vanity. Her son, too, had become much more dashing in his youth than his puppy-hood... Her son... Caillen...
The vague thoughts were stolen away by the curt tone of her daughter. After a moment of lingering gazes intertwining, Alaine accepted the plate, and patted the bed beside her. Her emerald gaze swung back out into the light, as she methodically lifted one of the dried strips to her lips, chewed it thoughtfully. The salty, tangy taste surprised her. How long had it been since she had actually tasted something? The woman continued to chew robotically. After gingerly swallowing the mouthful, she sighed, and the presence of heartbreak was strong in the sound. Alaine could feel it returning, the knowing, and she knew that with it would come the pain. There was much she and her daughter had to discuss.
"He left the day after you." There was no doubt between them of whom she was referring to, "There was... An argument. He said he couldn't stand being treated like baggage, like an imbecile, anymore." Her accented tone was soft, pensive, as she took another bite of the cured meat. She chewed, swallowed. "I thought he was bluffing. He said... He said he needed to know what it was, out there, that was strong enough to break a family." Sylvie's leaving had been the catalyst. Her son had been unable to comprehend it, and so he'd left in search of answers. Alaine's voice held no judgment, no condemning tone, for she loved her daughter with as much of her heart as was left. The sunlight ran warm fingers across her skin, as the dark voice of pain whispered in her head. There was more, so much more to tell...
Speak think walk
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table © Alaine
ooc: Oof. xD
Finally, it seemed, the broken marble statue would move, would take the plate of so many wonderful morsels and gingerly try one. Sylvie held her breath as her mother ate, and even more so when she stopped, heaving that weighted sigh, loaded down with all the depressions of her last week. Alaine was ready to recount the history as it unfolded after the lilac and cream beauty's leave, to spill the thoughts that so tore apart her brooding flesh. Sylvie waited quietly, patiently, watching the woman with a stern, and yet comforting gaze. What would Alaine reveal to her, and would Sylvie be able to take it? Could she too bear the burden that so sent the firey older woman into her slump?
After a moment of staring at her plate, Alaine began her explanation, causing Sylvie's heart to sink. He left the day after she had...? Had he really been gone that long, leaving his poor mother by herself? Alone in the darkened eves and twilight morns dappled with demons of old, lost to the shuffle of wandering optime feet and the undying creaking of the old hotel? Alabaster hands gripped each other out of a will to prevent a verbal backlash, an evil desire to rend flesh and tear hearts with simple phrases of venomous reprieve. An argument, a confused soul lost to the misunderstandings of what they were worth to the collie woman, to world... and to the catalyst of their disappearance. For what soul could uphold their spark without the light of another? What star shines brightest without one to illuminate?
Her thoughts drifted as Alaine silenced, drifting as her feet had been for so long across an empty void that was wont to fill. The pain shifting up her spine drifted as her thoughts did, grasping cold, frozen heart with fingers of dagger blades and thorns. There was more, she could tell... but for now, Sylvie was doing her best to keep from crying. Something out there... strong enough to break a family...
She knew not of how to react to that.
Were they really a family? A twisted, torn, trio of flesh and blood, dilapidated as the old building they had grown up in? Lived in together for as short a time period as they had? Did that... did that truly warrant a family? Vibrant gems dulled and fell to stare at curved white feet, her mind reeling as her heart was attempting to hold itself together at the very idea of such a thing as that. A family...
"I... I see..."
What were they now?
Speak think walk
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table © Alaine
ooc: <3
wc: 300+
After Sylvie's soft reprisal, the pair sat in silence for a while.
Alaine's emerald eyes gazed out at the sunlight, the food forgotten on it's wooden plate on her lap. Emerald eyes seemed to search the dazzling brightness for something - A face, maybe. A memory. Deep shadows swam through the lucid jade depths. But she felt it still, the warmth playing across her face, the soft fingers of a breeze that brought with it sweet scents of life. And she felt the strength to continue.
"He was my world. I think I see, now... That was not a good thing." A mild smile curved about maw, the woman seemingly overcome with a coma of peace as the bad news fell from her tongue and bled out into the air, an invisible poison to the beautiful girl sitting beside her. "I had nothing left here for me but my job. My job, and... Daisuke." And the smile grew slightly, a flicker of true happiness coloring emerald depths for an instant - Transforming her, for a heartbeat, back into the beautiful maiden she had been. Her golden knight had come, and saved her from herself. She loved him for that, more than she'd loved any other male apart from her son. But the relationship they had was difficult to explain; They were not mates, and though the sex had been consensual, there had been no obligations.
Until she'd fallen pregnant, that is.
And suddenly there it was, that wrenching heartache, that horrible pain that shattered her mind. And even as the smile faded from her maw, tears had begun to roll down the woman's cheeks - Little diamond beads, unnoticed to blinded emerald eyes. "I was pregnant, Sylvie," Her voice was just a whisper now, just a whisper, "I thought I would be happy again."
Words went unsaid. Alaine's inability to nurse the unborns through all the phases of their impregnable infancy was obvious. She was barren still, and the old wounds had been torn open afresh. That time spent deluding herself with the promise of a new family, new children to heal the scars that her old children had left. It had been a selfish desire, perhaps, but Alaine had given the idea, the dream, her entire heart. With the speed which they had started, her tears suddenly stopped. She was dried up. She had nothing more to give to the pain.
Slowly, the woman leaned on her daughter's arm. Her body was trembling.
Speak think walk
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table © Alaine
ooc: )< Blargh the interwebs around here, and double blargh finals.
Silence.
The deafening lack of sound preceded over their conversation, awkwardly noting its placement in their speech and making Sylvie feel nervous. Silence had once meant she was in grave trouble, and soon to be beaten for some invisible transgression attached to her work for that day. The lilac and white fae knew now that this was not always the case- but it tended to be difficult for her to tell the difference between the pair. Sylvie looked down upon the plate, left forgotten for the time being.
Orchid-kissed gems trailed from the lonely plate of food to the once proud valkyrie's face, tracing the curve of tenative smile, shrinking away from the shadows of those venomous green depths. It seemed that her foster mother was remembering something, deciding if this memory was fit to be shared without further splintering the delicate, ancient boughs of her heart. Despite the new growth over the old, it seemed that even the strongest tree couldn't hold up to every storm thrown its way.
Finally creaking shea's maw opened to form words, heralded by mild smiles of understanding anew while Sylvie sat stoic, having known these things all along. Alaine had been left completely alone, lost to the contacts of her children for longer than she once thought, and her poisoned words did little to comfort that stabbing reality. Even mention of this Daisuke threw little light upon the mushroom of ivory and mocha. Alaine's obvious joy, though fleeting, spoke volumes about this fellow, and that was enough for Sylvie... but where was this man now? What good was he if he did the same thing she and Caillen had? Vibrant purple gems narrowed a moment at this revelation.
At least he was in contact with her.
But then came the worst bit of info yet. Pregnant! A joy for many, but a burden for Alaine... it was obvious from her reaction, the crystalline lobes of liquid sliding down the ivory and cream shea's cheeks, the whisper of her voice. She thought she would be happy again... but it seemed, this joy was unbidden, lost to the slim older collie's womb or dying soon after birth. Either way, Alaine's reaction and the lack of light-footed paws upon the wooden floors of the Hotel were enough to clue Sylvie into the grim reality.
Again, the deafening silence took hold, choking the air with its no longer awkward, but painful grasp over their heads. Sylvie sympathized, oh she sympathized, though she did not have a child of her own. The pain of such a loss was unfathomable for the young adult, something she could never truly grasp until it happened to her... but nonetheless, Sylvie was determined to try. Just as her heart tore and trembled, shattered and grew in the presence of Alaine's true son, Sylvie was sure Alaine had felt the same way when her whelps- how many had there been? -were lost to the goddess of death.
A weight settled against Sylvie's slim arm, accompanied by the trembling of her foster-mother's form. Sylvie knew not what to do. How did one console a broken woman when social interactions like these had been attached to bodily harm for so long? Unsure, and yet sure, Sylvie draped her arm across her mother's shoulders, allowing ivory maw to fall where it may across silky body, patting alabaster hands with a matching dove. "Oh Alaine..." She said, for the moment the stronger of the two. "I feel for you, I do... but do you think this is how those little ones would want their momma to be feeling?"
She knew such a comment was risky, but if anyone could relate to such a question, it would be Alaine. Even with Caillen, she had had to conform to fit the child's dreamy nature, to keep him from worrying. These children, though gone from the physical plane, were no different. Sylvie was no different. "Don't fret so much... Mourning for so long is unhealthy." She should know. How long was she mourning her mother's abandonment? "Do you think, that though they are no longer with us, that they are similarly unhappy?" Another tactic Sylvie herself wasn't sure of. This required dreaming, the idea that spirituality was true... something Sylvie, firmly planted in the mud, did not grasp very well.
But still she would try. "I don't think anyone can be happy knowing that someone they love is unhappy..." This at least, was something Sylvie knew all too well. She had never truly been happy, always knowing in the back of her mind that Caillen wasn't truly happy after her leave, and Alaine worrying herself sick. She had caused a lot of heartache in her lifetime, and didn't grasp any of it until now.
Rather sad.
Speak think walk
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table © Alaine
ooc: aww Sylvie. your turn for some emotion!
wc: 300+
The girl's arms encircled her in a warm embrace, and Alaine felt the desperate choking sorrow ease, just slightly. Though her loss had been unbearable, there was still those who needed her. There was still a purpose to be had, in being a mother to the beautiful girl beside her. Sylvie's words made the trembling woman subside, her emerald eyes shut tightly; she didn't want to hear them, but knew that she must. What the lilac lily spoke was true. It was time for this sickly grieving to end, before it ended her.
Slowly, she untangled herself from her daughter's slender arms, holding Sylvie's hands between her own as she gazed into lavender pools so filled with sympathy and love that it was almost enough to put her at peace, even if for just a moment. This girl had not been her's by blood, but from the moment Alaine had felt the air on that fateful night over a year ago, Sylvie Ciel had belonged to her. Belonged to her family.
She had changed the girls life, saved it, certainly. And having the girl here to tend her in these days of weakness would be the repayment in full. That was what family did - Saved each other.
One hand lifted to stroke the girl's hair, sliding down the back of her neck. Immediately, a frown flew over the woman's tear streaked features. She hesitated, jade eyes watching the girl intently, as fingers again flew over the rough lines hidden by her silky hair. And suddenly, a sweeping sadness filled her, such that she could not name - She could not even speak of it. The knowledge lay burdened between them, seen only in the mismatching gazes of purest emerald and livid amethyst. They were bound now with more than just family ties, but with experience, for Alaine could recognize the cruelty that had befallen her daughter without the need for words to pass between them.
The four deep lashes on her upper arm ached. Sanity and sorrow slid back into the woman's gaze.
It seemed like they would be healing together.
Speak think walk
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table © Alaine
ooc: D'aww. xD I knew you'd find use for that sometime!
Sylvie sat somewhat stiffly as Alaine shifted from her embrace, instead proceeding to clasp matching alabaster hands in her own. The gesture was less affectionate than her hug of sorts, and Sylvie felt a touch more comfortable with it. The two collie females watched one another from afar, nearly mirror images of each other barring the differences in pelt color and hair style. Violet orbs were lost to the emerald glimmer of shamrock gaze, betraying slight confusion. Certainly, she understood this was to be a tender sort of moment, but exactly how she should respond escaped her.
Sitting before her was the woman who gave her a new life, a new love, a new family. Who had rescued her from the cold, violating grasp of the winter's eve and ocean's lap, brought her into the warmth of what should have been her childhood. The valkyrie of her battlefield, Alaine was ethereal in Sylvie's defiled temple of life, though she was just as hurt as the moon-spun gypsy. Sylvie shied away a little as Alaine reached out to stroke her hair, and almost invisibly flinched as alabaster fingers traced the hidden marks of her life outside of the Chien Hotel.
Alaine's frown was certainly well-founded, but Sylvie still wasn't happy with it. The hardened lines of tissue lost to the overall thickness of kit-like mane prickled slightly under Alaine's touch, and Sylvie blinked a few times in response to the touch of a particularly tender edge. The ever present silence hung thick over the pair once again, the choking grasp not in awkwardness, but in heavy understanding, an acknowledgment to the weighty burden both now shared. The strengthening mother and settling daughter would certainly be healing together.
But then... what would happen if Caillen found out...?
Speak think walk
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