|Mary Magdalene (gospel_of_mary) wrote in nevermore_logs,|
@ 2013-05-01 22:39:00
|Entry tags:||huitzilopochtli, mary magdalene|
WHO: Mary Magdalene [narrative, but open to Huitzi]
WHEN: Late Tuesday night (or early Wednesday morning)
WHERE: Mary's apartment/the streets around Huitzi's place
WHAT: Bad dreams and wanting Aztecs.
Mary woke from a dream she didn't remember, but her sheets were soaked through with sweat. With a moan she threw them off her and got up, padding around the darkness of her apartment as she tried to remember what her nightmare had been about. But it was gone, leaving her with nothing more than lingering sadness and discomfort and, now, goosebumped skin from the cold night air.
She considered going back to bed but her sheets were damp and her body was restless. So she stripped the bed (throwing everything into a pile to be dealt with tomorrow) and got dressed in the dark.
From under her bedside dresser, Mary fished out her gun and - after double checking the safety - pushed it down the back of the waistband of her jeans. If she was going to walk the streets, she wasn't going to let anyone hassle her. (Not that the gun was really for any mortals. It was more a thing to be carried in case of demons. Demons were always lurking somewhere.)
As she walked, Mary told herself she didn't know where she was going, that she didn't have any real destination in mind. And yet after an hour of walking she wasn't at all surprised to find that she was near to the Hummingbird's building.
From the edge of his block, Mary could see lights in the building. They didn't comfort her. Those lights weren't for her, not anymore. There had been nights when light from those windows had been a beacon drawing her to a real home and to Huitzilopochtli's arms, but she'd lost all that somehow.
Across the street from the building she sat down on the pavement and watched the building, lamenting that she was on the outside and not the inside. The memories of Valentine's Day were still strong, the taste of him distant from her but something she couldn't forget.
With a sigh she dropped her head onto her knees.