|Saint Patrick ☘ (shamrocked_) wrote in nevermore_logs,|
@ 2011-08-10 08:02:00
|Entry tags:||deirdre of the sorrows, saint patrick|
Who: Deirdre and Saint Patrick
What: Why hello there (Originally posted by Deirdre)
When: Wednesday evening
Where: Standard cliche coffeeshop
Deirdre, as a rule, tried to keep to herself. Her curse dodged her steps at almost every interval, and she could never help herself. She would love someone, only to lose them and have another bicker over her like she was some scrap of meat. The only comfort she had now was that she could no longer be forced into a marriage.
She both desired for Naoise to return and for him to stay away. With Naoise came Conchobar, and she'd rather never see him again. Still, the cycle always repeated. Like clockwork. She wished it wouldn't. Like others, all she wanted was peace.
And, now, a job. She had many skills but part of her was still used to being taken care of. But if she wanted to eat, and avoid the cycle, she had to find work. So with her laptop under hand she'd walked into the coffeeshop, gotten herself tea, and sat down. After a moment she had looked up, feeling immortal and a sense of familiarity. Not the ones part of her tale, she'd know those from miles off, but still something close to home. Unable to help herself she looked around, wondering who it was.
Patrick had been spent all day with Nicholas and his friend Hannah and now what he really wanted was a caffinated beverage so he could replenish his energy before heading home.
He had stepped into the coffee shop without feeling anything. He was too focused on the sugarey mocha he was about to drink. Once he had ordered and his coffee had been granted to him, he turned around and he caught someone he recognised out of the corner of his eye. He turned to face her, raising his eyebrows as he did so.
"...Deirdre?" he asked, stepping towards her hesitantly.
"Yes?" Familiar, very. Immortal, of that there was no doubt. But it was looking for a name to a face she knew she should know, but didn't. She just hoped it wouldn't end in another sorrow. "I'm sorry, I don't think I recall you." She waved to a seat, "but please. Sit."
Of course she didn't. Because he didn't look a thing like he used to.
Patrick sat anyway, cradling his mocha like it was his best friend. "It's Patrick," he explained carefully. "This is what happens to you when people celebrate you every year by throwing parades and dressing up like leprechauns," he said, pointing to his face.
She blinked, then stared at him for a moment before recalling herself. She'd seen those parades. "Oh." A smile tugged at her lips, although it was hardly reflected in her eyes. "You're red." Almost freely she touched his hair before settling her hands around her cup.
"Of all the people, Druid-Bane I hardly expected to see you here. But I'm glad. Save for the...red and the difference you're well?" Deirdre thought she felt lucky. All that was ever said for her is that she was pretty. And full of tragic and woe, but that she could hardly help.
Patrick chuckled as she commented on his hair and then touched it. "I am red indeed." Patrick liked Deirdre, and he was so glad to see her again. He had a fondness for anyone of the Celtic pantheon who didn't want his head on a stake.
"I'm wonderful," Patrick replied, glad he could say that. If she had asked at the same time last year, his answer would have been much different. "How have you been?"
She was glad he was well. He'd always been nice to her, and it had been a druid who had cursed her. She'd often played with the idea of devoting herself to this Christian God, but it held ideals she wasn't fully comfortable with, even if it was a loophole away from her curse. "I'm glad to see that. I've always thought well of you." She sighed, "As always. Looking for a job. I'd rather do something with nature, but I don't have the paper that says I have those skills."
Patrick frowned at that, wishing he could help. "I've always thought well of you too. What kind of job would you like if paper weren't an issue?"
"Something with animals, I think. Animals are easy. People are tricky," she glanced to her cup, "I could go to school again, but it involves people. And some way or the other, the curse always comes back and I make a mess of things." She sighed, "it doesn't leave me with a lot of friends. I don't know if I ever said thank you for not treating me like the prettiest thing, or something you had to have. I get it far too often."
Patrick furrowed his brow at that statement. He had always been a big supporter of women's rights and most of his followers when he was alive had been women. He had preached that they had the right to live without being owned by a man and they had responded to that. It was still a cause dear to his heart.
"You're welcome, of course," Patrick nodded. "And I will never do that to you. Here," Patrick grabbed a napkin and he quickly scrawled his address and phone number onto it. "If you ever need someone to treat you like you deserve, you can always come to me."
She paused over the napkin before taking it. She'd met men of this age who thought like him, but then somehow she'd get between two of them, one she wanted and one she didn't and they'd start treating her like a thing. With how much she lost the first time, it always broke her heart to endure it again.
"Not cursed you mean?" She smiled, "thank you Druid-Bane. I'm happier now I have a choice. I can say no now." She hadn't had that luxury before. Smiling she set the napkin in her purse, "but enough. There's tales and tales about my sorrow Patrick. Tell me what has you with such a light?" She let her smile turn sly, "or perhaps who. I know that look."
Patrick chuckled at Deirdre's question and his cheeks coloured slightly. "John the Baptist," he said with a grin. "I'm living with him now. He's helped me so much."
That surprised her a little, before she let it settle in her mind. "Forgive me. I still think a bit different at times. But it is good, wonderful. I'm glad he makes you so happy." She'd had a taste of that, "I only know the name though."
"It's alright!" Patrick assured her. He wasn't one to be offended unless someone was actually offensive. "I think it gives a lot of people pause, to be fair. But we make each other happy. He's amazing and kind."
She smiled, "I expected a woman's name is all. I guess I'm a bit old fashioned that way. And so it seems. I am happy for you Druid-Bane. We all deserve a share of happiness. May yours last longer then mine did." She meant it well. Her few moments with Naoise had seemed so short. And this way, she had another loophole. She liked being friends with someone without it all turning on its ear. "Give him my regards."