The everyday life of some people [OPEN]

[Xerath]

February 27, 2012

Oh pen.  Why do you betray me?  Xerath stared at her pen for what felt like hours.  It was in fact only a few minutes, but still- she had to stare, because she had JUST gotten it out and now it was acting like it had no ink.  Damnit.  Now it just felt like a waste of money!  She was clearly unhappy, but what could anyone do?  Well, besides buy a new damn pen.  She really didn't feel up to it and she did owe a new chapter soon, but the store was on the OPPOSITE side of DC.  She'd just make her agent do it later, she guessed.  Driving to that store was a royal pain in the rear.  

"Well, this is useless."  Her voice showed her obvious disappointment.  With a quick toss, she sent the pen into a large trash and sat on the bench.  Early morning called and gave a brief chill to the world.  Her jacket was tugged over her shoulders to try and keep her warm and to keep any illnesses away.  Being sick was the last thing she needed to happen.  

With her right hand, she tapped the pad on her lap.  She shifted, then looked around for inspiration.  There was none.  Everything was just an average day, which bode ill for her since it meant she wasn't going to accomplish ANYTHING today.  Maybe she could at least find something decent to eat.   Then again, food sounded disgusting and she was cold.  Why couldn't the sun raise?  Why didn't she have more friends?  Most of them were still in the military, while she had to stay home.  She cursed her body- hated her body for how she was.  Weak.  That's what she was.  At least it's what she'd convinced herself.  

Anyways, there was nobody at the small park yet.  Absolutely nothing was really going on and it was going to be March soon.  Not like it really inspired much change.  Time was a vague blur to her.  Time was relative and the longer you lived the faster it went.  She was actually fairly surprised she'd even lived so long with how many problems her body seemed to give her.

[Sovay]

The morning air was intensely chilled, stinging Sovay's lungs as she breathed in, only to exhale as a puff of steam that hung around her before dissipating. It was marvelous and beautiful, and one of the millions upon millions of beautiful creations provided to humans as a gift that was constantly overlooked. The day was still so early, and yet the former angel was up and about, quietly excusing herself from the musty warmth of the antique shop to venture outside, largely because when she came down from her attic room, Sovay noticed she had a problem: she was out of tea.

Mr. Lane was still out of town, according to the message he'd given her the night before. He was taking a trip down to Florida for some auctions and to try and get into the Antiques Roadshow, so he'd be a few days and come back with new goodies. Sovay wished the old man a good time and promised she'd take good care of the shop. It wasn't anywhere near opening time today, so she figured there was no harm in leaving the store alone for a while to get what she was lacking. Cold days like this needed tea, and today's find was a lavender oolong blend that smelled amazing.

Bag in hand, Sovay crossed through the little park. It was a shortcut, she'd observed, and with so little traffic right now and so few people out this early it was quite lovely. The chilled grass crunched beneath her little shoes, Sovay's red wool coat many times too big for her. Yet, despite her slight weight, there was still a feeling of weightlessness that conflicted with gravity and the natural weight of a body. She moved with the effortlessness of an animal creeping in the dawn. Not in a predatorial way, but in a way that matched the stillness and perfection that was morning.

Of all the glories and wonders of Heaven, there were none like Earth. Was this punishment, or a gift? Sovay smiled gently to herself, thankful. Even if she was alone, she finally got to see for herself what all the fuss was about. And it was wonderful.

Sovay's light footsteps paused, the fallen angel in thought. As she reaped them, she often asked humans what their greatest joys and lessons in life were. At the moment, one came to mind. A suggestion from a child she had collected some winters ago, who had told the angel that the funnest thing to do was skid around on icy pavements as long as you didn't fall on your head or your butt. The suggestion seemed so pointless at the time, but now? Now it seemed quite clear that that was the thing to try. The park was empty, most places were just opening, and there were plenty of patches of icy sidewalk surrounded by grass to fall into.

The bag with tea was shoved into the deep pocket as Sovay found a spot of sidewalk to test. The ice was hard and slick, and seemed consistent for a few short feet. Perfect. She tested a step, moving herself forward a few inches. That was... interesting. Sovay pushed off again, propelling herself even further, a small smile warming up. That was a new feeling! After a third push against the ice, Sovay skidded freely down the sidewalk, a shrill squeal of delight bursting past her lips unexpectedly as she fought gravity and inertia for control, the feeling new and entirely thrilling and leaving her totally unaware that someone else was even in the park.

She skidded again on a longer patch, laughing as she went, the now-human absoltely delighted. Sovay laughed even as she fell sideways into the grass with a loud "Ooof!", dried leaves crackling beneath her and sprinking her black hair. As she sat back up, Sovay finally noticed Xerath sitting there on the bench, not human enough to feel embarrassed about her state. "Hail, and Good Morrow!" Someday she'd remember that here it was just "Hello." Eventually.

[Xerath]

Xerath found herself lost in thought.  That vague world of blurry uncertainty.  Yes she was thinking, but at the same time she couldn't exactly figure out what it was about.  It was important, wasn't it?  In all likelihood, it probably had something to do with her due date and other obsessive thoughts that circled around that thought process.  The shrill sound of delight(?) filled her mind and slowly the real world beckoned her to come back.  With a couple blinks, everything placed itself in position and she was back on the bench.  

A woman giggled and tumbled over.  Apparently she had been make-shift ice-skating which to most people would be something to stare sternly at, but secretly Xerath now had an urge to try it herself.  This stranger was covered in leaves and debris and for a moment, Xerath wondered if she should make sure she didn't hit her head.  Her body shifted as her body acknowledged her wonder, but instead, the woman sat up and smiled brightly at Xerath.   "Hail, and Good Morrow!"

That- was a strange way to say hello.  This woman was almost like the way characters were in manga.  Strange.  Xerath immediately blushed when she realized that her work often slipped into the real world.  Yes she related a lot of things from work in the real world and if most people looked at her, they would think she was some kind of freak- or so she had convinced herself.

Anyways, she realized she was staring and blinked a bit, then gave a soft smile of her own.  It was abruptly followed with the furrow of worry.  "Are you alright?"  Whoops, forgot the greeting.  "Good morning."  well though it was n reverse, she did say everything she had wanted to.  It was by instinct, she got up and walked a bit forward.  With a second's notice, she held her hand out for the woman.

[Sovay]

The crinkle of the leaves was unique, and almost beautiful in its own way. They were dead, and yet, still here and still wonderful even if they were no longer on the trees and thriving. Was this the gift of life? To live on as something else even after something had served its purpose? That was a rather nice thing to think of. Sovay knew Heaven was welcome to humans after their death, so in a way it still must have held true for this Earthly realm, whether everyone around her knew it or not. They had a rather nice smell to them too, Sovay noted.

As she began to brush the crumbled leaves from her coat, Xerath responded. "Are you alright?" Her hand brushed down one sleeve and then another, still contentedly plopped in the frosted and dead grass, in no more hurry to get up than spring was to come. Most people wouldn't have been skating on the tiny frozen patches of sidewalk, and being spotted, especially after falling? It would make a crummy morning for most. Sovay simply laughed, letting herself enjoy it all; the little child had indeed been wise, and the suggestion well worth the fall. "Good morning."

Slowly she moved to her knees as Sovay continued to brush herself off casually as though the fall had been part of the plan. Actually it kind of was. Sovay nodded, taking the offered hand and pulling herself up, not noticing that there were still a few bits of things stuck in her long black hair. "I'm quite well, thank you." Even if her accent was entirely out of place and unplaceable, it fit well with the morning light in its own way and seemed to laugh with the sunrise. Sovay glanced to the sidewalk she'd slipped from, and the long stretches of cement that ran through the park leading into and out of it. Sure, some led home, but this was kind of fun, and the shop wasn't ready to open just yet (and the odds of people wanting antiques at this hour was rather slim since Christmas had already passed). "It's a wonderful morning, isn't it?" Not that it was really a question as much as a glowing statement, but to the fallen angel, it was true at the moment. The world was beautiful and she could see the layers of beauty, even in something so innocent and childish as sliding on the ice. But maybe that's why this woman was sitting out in the park so early herself; even if not to skate and goof around, but to enjoy the beauty of the early morning peace.

[Xerath]

This woman was most odd.   She was perfectly fine sitting in the leaves and frost.  Wasn't her butt getting cold and wet?  Xerath was concerned, but not enough to ask, because well- a lot of questions weren't worth asking.  

Her lips were pulled into a gentle smile once the woman had stated she was fine.  That was good.  She didn't have to worry on brain damage or the like, but it was obvious this woman was a free spirit.  It was cute.  She nodded and sat back on the bench, pulling her sketchbook back into her lap.  "Yeah, it is.  I prefer mornings.  The crazies aren't out and the day can be appreciated."  She laughed at her own joke lightly.  Most drinkers and drug-doers were sleeping in bed from late nights, so early morning joggers were just people who loved fitness.  Much better.

"I'm Xerath, by the way." As was nature to help others up, it was to introduce oneself as well.  Manners; most people had them.  Her hand rose and tapped on the sketchpad, which reminded her of when she had ADD.  It was still there, but not nearly as bad as when she was 5 and into EVERYTHING.

[Sovay]

Standing, Sovay continued to brush the last of the debris free from her coat, still entirely unaware of the souveniers in her hair. Her hands went back to her pockets to push the box of tea back down as the woman who'd helped her up resumed sitting on the bench, sketchbook in lap. Well then! Nice to meet someone else who liked to draw. It looked like a nice-sized sketchpad, too, and automatically held the fallen's attention. "Yeah, it is. I prefer mornings. The crazies aren't out and the day can be appreciated."

Crazies? Sovay glanced at herself and thought about it. What really counted as a crazy? She'd heard plenty of people that that just getting out of bed every morning to face the day demonstrated a lack of sanity. So maybe she herself was slightly mad? Oh well. "I'm Xerath, by the way." Sovay beamed with a nod.

"Well met, Xerath," Sovay responded, her accent formal and odd. "I am Sovay. It's nice to meet you." She had only left the shop to get some tea for the day, but was finding pleasant company outside the store rather unexpectedly. "This is a nice place to sketch, too. I was thinking when warmer months come I might come out here to paint." A few nice landscapes would be a change of pace. They couldn't all be of Angels from home.

[Xerath]

Xerath nodded to her name.  Honestly she found her own name far stranger than about half of the people she met.  Where had her parents come up with it?  She might never know.  It was amusing to see people try  to spell it though, in all honesty.  

Her name was Sovay.  That was a pretty enough name.  Xerath couldn't help but smile.  This woman obviously seemed please to meet Xerath, which frankly was pretty rare.  Most times she rarely met anyone ready to sit and get to know her, if it wasn't for her manga.  Shit- she still had to go to the store.  She reached for her phone, ready to dial, but decided to instead text her demands to her 'lackey' as she might as well call him.  She felt guilty, except the man was practically obsessive when it came to her work.  It was a lucky breakthrough, but still a nuisance.

"Yeah.  It's gorgeous out."  Her legs crossed simply and her blue eyes closed off from the world for a moment.  "Sometimes nature is the best inspiration when it comes to art.  To others it might be music."  She hadn't begged this girl as an artist at first, but now that she thought about it, well it quite simply did seem that way.  "What kind of sketching do you do, out of curiosity."

[Sovay]

Inspiration came from so many places, it was true. Sovay drew much of hers from nature and from memory, but she couldn't deny that turning on the record player on quiet afternoons at the shop while she painted or sat down to read was more than enjoyable. Sovay loved music. There was music in Heaven, but so little of it was different. Alll of it was praises to their master and only expressed the same handful of feelings - servitude, gratitude for being able and allowed to serve, and in a strange sense a sort of lingering smug triumphany feeling over winning against Inferis, being closest to their maker, and simply getting to live in Heaven at all. Even the few human composers who made it there weren't really all that great at making anything new.

Sovay smiled, her legs curling up on the bench to pull her knees toward her chest, warmth trapped in the space between. "Music is really inspiring, too. Where I live there's hundreds of different old records... I've set in to listen to a different one every day." How to keep an angel busy: teach her how to work a Victrola record player and ask her to clean. "Maybe I'll run home and get my pad and some paints. I paint, mostly, and sometimes sketch with old ink pens with the pointy tips." Glancing up to the sky, she smiled. Even if she didn't come back here to paint, the sky had some very promising clouds in it. Big, fluffy, golden with a hint of silvery-gray. "Usually I paint landscapes and cloudscapes, and lots of birds and angels. What about you?" She looked down at the sketchpad in Xerath's lap inquisitively.

[Sponsored content]