pullmeoutalive | log > for lack of a better place to do so

Entry tags:

log > for lack of a better place to do so

He had to wonder how it was that, if no one save a very, very select few could leave Whitechapel, he kept ending up elsewhere. Indeed, this wasn't the steam-driven, smog-choked section of city he called home. This was somewhere else entirely - and startlingly modern in comparison to the Victorian England he was so used to.

It was unseemly of him, but he found himself staring - tall buildings all steel and glass towered over him, and over that lay the clearest sky he'd seen in his entire life. The sun was bright, brighter that it had ever been in Whitechapel, with its constant overhang of smoke. All the better, he supposed, that he was wearing his usual attire, complete with dark glasses.

Alabaster stood alone on the street, a tall figure in smoke black stark against the clean, polished world he now found himself in. There seemed to be no one around. This city, if it was indeed a city and not some ludicrous dream, appeared to be deserted.

He reached into the pocket of his coat, fishing out a pocket watch. In this alien place, was Grandfather Clock - his God, and God over Whitechapel - still watching him through the clockface? Or had the connection been severed with his sudden disappearance?

Such things would be answered in due time, he told himself. For now, there was only the question of getting back. It wouldn't do to have Grandfather Clock's elite agent up and vanish in the middle of a rebellion, now would it?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He was well aware of her reasons for giving him the look she was. Had he not been so utterly exhausted and beaten, he probably would have surprised himself - and who knows, perhaps later, after this whole incident had blown over, the notion would seem as absurd to him as it did to her.

For the moment, though, he chose not to look at her, or at anything in particular.

That was fine, too; she settled for taking a seat on the couch beside him. While still surprised, she couldn't exactly fault him for that line of thinking, either. What awaited someone who, by all rights, should have been dead by now?

She didn't say anything, just inched a little closer, as if proximity would help.

Her movement finally drew his gaze. "Saga..." He sighed. What was wrong with him? He was alive, and that should be something to be grateful for. It was hard, certainly, considering the circumstances, but he managed a small smile. "Thank you."

"I didn't do anything this time around," she demurred, returning the smile nonetheless. "But for the time being, you can stay here as long as you want. Aside from the... arms and the bleeding oil, you should be able to fit right in."

He chucked a bit, leaning back against the couch. Yes, things could definitely be worse. They could also be substantially less confusing, but beggars can't be choosers. "It hardly seems like I've been gone a month."

Step outside, Saga thought dryly. The weather will prove otherwise. Aloud, she replied, "There isn't a whole lot that's changed since you left. I got another rune, and one of my brothers came to visit but, as far as everything else goes, it's been pretty slow."

"There were no wild animals involved this time, I hope." He managed a bit of a smirk when he said it, though facing down a gigantic, angry boar wasn't an experience he hoped to repeat.

"Not this time." Saga couldn't help but wince at the memory, going on to add in a matter-of-fact tone, "Actually, I might have preferred that. My idea of a good time doesn't include almost turning into a tree. Or being blown away. Or drowning, for that matter."

Alabaster's eyebrows went up, and he regarded her with a slightly bemused expression. "My. It sounds as though there's quite a story there."

It wasn't one that she cared to remember, going from the look on her face, but she obliged him anyway. "Let's just say when a rune's got control over air, water, and earth, it's going to make things vaguely problematic for whoever's trying to catch it. And, since its earthquake idea failed, it thought I'd make a great apple tree or something."

"Ah." And that was that. It was obvious that she didn't really want to talk about it further, or at all, so he moved on to a different topic. (Usually he wasn't one for conversation, but a distraction was welcome at this point.) "I wasn't aware you had siblings."

"Three actually; I've got two brothers and a sister, and Calliope and Orion are older than I am. Loki's the youngest out of all of us." She neglected to add that her little brother most certainly lived up to his name-- watching over younger siblings was a chore on its own, but when the younger sibling could cause explosions whenever he was bored, it became less of a chore and more of a catastrophe.

Alabaster arched a brow. It would stand to reason that, in their very, very brief visit before, he hadn't bothered to learn much about her. Now, though, it seemed like his stay was going to be a bit... extended, and he'd admit he was a little curious. "Do all of them collect runes, or is that just you?"

"No, that lovely duty belongs solely to me." Saga managed a smile, thinking back to her siblings' choices and hobbies. "It's more a responsibility than anything else, since I'm the only one with the aptitude for it. Everyone else has their own area of expertise."

"I imagine all of you together must make quite the spectacle." He too managed a bit of a smile before leaning his head back and fixing his eyes on the ceiling. Even conversation got to be a chore in his current state. Perhaps he should have taken Saga's advice and gone back to bed.

She only snorted quietly in response. Saga didn't like to complain, so that small sound was her only way of saying that his comment was one of the biggest understatements she'd heard in her life. There was a reason why the Laskaris siblings didn't get together very often. They'd caused their parents enough grief when they'd been growing up; things just tended to happen when they were together.

She leaned forward now, a little closer to Alabaster as she studied him. "... Hey, are you sure you're all right? You still look exhausted."

"Mm." He sighed, shutting his eyes, but not moving otherwise. "I can certainly say I've been better." After a moment, he regarded her with a sidelong glance and a small, tired smile. "I think I will go back to bed after all."

Being tired was infinitely better than being dead, and she was once again relieved that whatever had intervened on Alabaster's behalf had possessed the sense to bring him here; she was starting to believe that there was only one force who would have been that deliberate.

I'm going to have to have a talk with him when I see him again...

"Are you good to move on your own?" She voiced her thoughts this time, still very much concerned. "I don't mind helping out."

"You've done more than enough," came the reply as Alabaster hauled himself off of the couch. He grimaced slightly, his body was still protesting movement, but sleeping on the couch didn't seem like a good idea. Not that he enjoyed taking Saga's bed, but he'd gotten oil on enough of her furniture. No need to add another casualty.

Slowly, but surely, he made his way to the bedroom, pausing just long enough to say, "Thank you." And then he shut the door behind him.

How ironic, she couldn't help thinking, too comfortable on the couch to budge after he'd left. Her mother had been on her case for years about bringing a man home, and now she had one not only taking up residency in her apartment but sleeping in her bed as well.

Somehow, she didn't think that was quite what her mother had in mind, but the thought of it brought a grin to her face all the same. All that was left to do was to wait for him to recover a little more.

Well, that and get some festive decorations up.

Never in his life had Alabaster been glad to be completely and utterly exhausted. Had he not just passed out the second he hit the pillow, he knew he would have dreamt about his final battle. How it went, how it could have gone, how it should have ended. But no, unconscious claimed him and held tight for another couple of days.

When he finally came to, he was substantially less sore and substantially less exhausted. And also starving.

He lifted himself from the bed, with considerable improvement over his last attempt to do so, and headed for the livingroom.

It had been a normal living room once. And yet, in the span of a few days, it was no longer normal. No, instead there were stockings attached to a wall, adjacent to a giant Christmas tree which was currently sporting strands of tinsel and assorted ornaments. The tinsel was also adorning the rest of the apartment, and the one unfortunate enough to have tried to wrestle it into submission.

"Next time we get a smaller tree," the victim was now telling the cat (visible only because of the Santa hat on his head), balancing on her toes on top of a chair just in an attempt to set a silver star on the very top of the tree. "Or maybe I'll be taller next year. What do you think, Duff?"

The low, skeptical meow wasn't very reassuring.

Alabaster let out an amused chuckle, mostly because he was indeed amused, but also to alert her to his presence.

"It is that time of year, isn't it?" he mused, moving across the room with more ease than he had done previously. That last nap had been good for him.

"The most wonderful time of the year," was her distracted reply, and Saga willingly accepted the opportunity to stop her precarious balancing and jump off to more solid ground, tinsel included. She looked Alabaster over then, satisfied, beamed at him.

"And look at you! You're actually standing up straight!"

"Yes, well, at this point I should be thankful that I heal quickly," he said, absently picking tinsel out of her hair. "It seems you went all-out with the decorating. Not many people would decorate themselves in addition to their home."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject