Low Tide

Up and down the streets of Key West, people hosted house parties for New Year's Eve or got glamorous and headed to one of the professionally-planned celebrations. Since most holidays, the latter only ended up in trouble, Rhiannon and Connor turned over a new leaf and stayed home, inviting new and old friends (and friends of friends) to join them. If the world ended, they could always grab weapons, drive a few blocks, and show up in time to save the night, right?

The house they rented was a small, one-story cottage with a screened front porch, a small back stoop, and a modest yard inside a picket fence. A fire pit had been dug out and could be used, if the temperature dipped low enough -- meaning the 60s. A charcoal grill was lit for burgers and hot dogs. The kitchen counters were full of snacks and drinks. One of their computers supplied music, and a variety of cards and a few board games had been set out, just in case anybody wanted to get into that. On the back porch, a few packages of fireworks and sparklers awaited midnight.

Mostly, they just hoped for company. New Year's was a great way of starting out fresh in Key West.

[Thread: Open to Rhiannon, Connor, Purity, Izzy, Whistler, Hannah, Destiny, and anybody else who's brought along or, hell, even wanders by on the street and decides to drop in or gets dragged in. :) ]

Destiny adjusted her red apron and fixed her hair in the little mirror in the employee lounge. Christmas Eve. Why on God's green Earth was she working on Christmas Eve? She was still the new girl. Everyone still thought she was eighteen and in high school, despite the fact that she, at least the self that had made it here, was in her late twenties. She did, however, get the lucky present of stocking the shelves and tidying up the aisles. What had they called it? Stock control? Damage control? She didn't remember the corporate world technical term for it. What it meant for her, however, was much in the way of hoisting and carrying boxes. Slayer strength helped a lot in this instance.

Destiny stretched her arms out and stretched her one leg at a time parallel to her head. Twenty-four years of Slaying in a young body? Had its perks. She hadn't Slayed in months, but, she promised herself, she would pick it up again after the Christmas rush. The Slayer took a deep breath, smiled for the mirror, and entered into the Christmas-colored, Jingle Bells-playing bookstore proper.

God, I hate Christmas carols.

Jingle Bells was the worst. As she turned the pages of a book in the historical section, Rhiannon tried to tune it out. It was the staying power she didn't like. Hours after she heard the song, it'd be on a loop in her head while she ate dinner, walked the neighborhood, or took a shower. The only thing capable of canceling it out was another song.

( A Meeting )

Destiny stretched out on the beach. The person whose former life she now possessed didn't have any sign of a job. The bungalow was empty, a one bedroom deal within walking distance to the beach. Not knowing what else to do, she grabbed a book from the bookshelf in the living room and made her way to the beach. The bookshelves in that room rivaled the shelves at Unseen Insight. She felt a pang. She hadn't seen Emmeline Keddle since Aidan's funeral. It was way too painful and with the passage of time, they gradually grew apart. Destiny left for Jersey without even saying goodbye. She ran a finger across the ridged spines as she moved towards the open French doors, white sundress billowing in the wind. What did she do in her previous life to wake up in paradise? She caught her naked ring finger out of the corner of her eye. Well, almost paradise.

Shunning her flip-flops, the Slayer sunk her feet into the sand and closed and locked the door behind her. She hung the key around her neck on the rawhide lanyard and walked down the beach. It was gorgeous out, as usual. Finding a quiet stretch of beach, she watched the snorkels of divers bob and weave through the azure sea. She leaned back and closed her eyes, novel forgotten. Breathing deeply, she exhaled and looked out, watching the waves retract into the sea and disappear into the horizon.

There was very little that could keep Emmeline Keddle out of the water these days. She was determined to master her first element by the winter season's end, and with the ocean on all sides, water was in ample supply for a start. She had been out with her snorkel and dive bag again, this time in the shallows off the beach, just observing the brightly colored schools of fish and searching out a stray rock here and there that might prove useful in her craft, for the better part of the afternoon. With Bailey and her father set to arrive for a holiday meal the following evening, she hadn't much time to spare before she needed to begin preparing their feast, but the draw of the ocean was just too much.

Never one for flippers, she swam up to where the water shallowed enough to stand and walked up the surf towards her beach bag and towel in the sand, foregoing a dry-off for just slipping back into a long gypsy-styled skirt and wearing the black halter of her swimsuit as a top. Her hair, long and wet and threatening to dampen her bottom with the free-swinging dripping tendrils, was quickly pulled up messily into a black plastic clip retrieved from her bag, and she started up the beach to comb for shells and whatever other treasures it might yield. Spotting a new face near a vintage beach bungalow, Emmeline paused to offer the stranger a smile.

( In another time, in another place )

July 10, 2014

A destination wedding on the Jersey shore, white dress gathering sediment on the hem, shoes left under the banquet table at the venue beyond the dunes. Long after the guests had left, she and her new husband explored the beach, still wide awake from the excitement of the day.

Arm crading her new husband's hipbone, she walked into the sea. The water retracted, the shell fragments crunching under her feet as she let go of him and walked forward towards the shining object in the water. She remembers walking up to it, touching it with her foot, and... she left. Like light through a prism, her soul replicated into two streams. Destiny Alyson Brown-Anderson stayed there...

November 15, 2009
A new Destiny woke up in the sand, jeans and wifebeater caked in sand. Her eyes opened, blinking away the revelry of the night before. Or what would have been the night before. The memories faded, she drew a hand across her face. No longer did the engagement and wedding ring sit on her finger. A fully tanned hand, a younger hand without the burn from her first attempt of cooking for her father for the first time since she left his house. She got up and stretched, padding into the water to get a good look. A younger face stared back at her. She shrieked a little, splashing backwards from her reflection. She guiltily looked around, hoping no one heard that. A realization hit her. Who was she? Sticking her hand in her pocket, she pulled out her cellphone. The name inside read Destiny Alyson Brown. The date: November 15, 2009. Shaking her head, she reset the time on the phone to update to the correct time. No change.

She walked up to the small tiki hut that rented surfboards. On the outside was a calendar, posted to the wall. November 15, 2009. So. It wasn't a fluke. It really was five years earlier. This body was definitely younger. She had no idea what was going on. She had a feeling that the older Destiny was fine. She knew in her heart that there was no way to get back through time. Even in 2014, they hadn't marketed a personal time machine, so there was no way in hell she was getting back there.

Destiny was given a new life. A chance to, in essence, redo the years. And hoo boy, the years since 2009 had been difficult at best.

Wow, was this going to be fun...

Destiny pulled out her money clip, glanced at the address on her license, and decided to start there.