Corrie Pye is good at leaving (corriespondence) wrote in alleyrpg, @ 2010-07-25 22:31:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, 2030: 07, character: corrie pye, place: residence |
RP: Corrie Pye (yes, again)
Date: 24 July 2030, Saturday (starting around five)
Characters: Corrie Pye, Min, A Beetle
Location: Min
Private/Public: Private
Rating: PG
Warnings: Wanton capture of insects in makeshift containers!
Summary: Corrie visits her sort-of room, decorates, thinks about current events, falls asleep and catches a bug (not in her mouth).
The room wasn't large. Few of Minifred's rooms were, since she was just cottage-sized. And it was plain, very plain - four light-coloured walls with a tentative trim down at the bottom - as if Min was waiting to see what Corrie would want from it. Awaiting orders.
It was a strange way to think of Min. Not because she was a house, Corrie was used to thinking of her as anything but a normal house, but because she knew Min could do whatever she liked with this room, just like with the rest of the house. And since Corrie had been making suggestions about the decor for weeks, she'd just assumed those suggestions would already be incorporated into the design of this room. There were some changes since the day before when she'd first briefly set foot in the room Lorcan had given her - a table in the middle of the floor, and a chair next to it. Both were honey-coloured and wooden, with smooth, slightly curved lines like pieces of driftwood, but otherwise simple. But those were the only surprises to greet her.
A simple room, not large, not small. One chair. One table. Two doors, one window (with curtain). For now. It was full of possibilities in the way only Minifred-rooms could be.
Corrie smiled, kicked off her shoes by the outside door (her door!), and padded over to sit in the chair, leaning forward with her elbows on the table. She would have preferred to sit on the floor with her back against the wall. It felt closer to Min there, and after a long day of work, an extra-solid backrest was always welcome. But she had made Corrie the table and chair and placed them in this room, so that's where Corrie was sitting.
"Thank you," she said, stifling a yawn. Her hand came down to rest on the table, and she absent-mindedly traced her fingers over the smooth, cool surface. She was inside now, really inside - not just because Lorcan had invited her in once, but because he'd acknowledged she had a right to Min. Or because he was feeling charitable, but she didn't like the feeling that thought gave her, so acknowledgment it was. It made more sense anyway, and now that she'd calmed down enough to be reasonable, she knew this was probably the best arrangement. And she was grateful for it, in a way that made her feel a little pathetic, and a little angry at herself for being so pathetic, but she still wished more than a little that she could have more of Minifred.
It was so different sitting inside at a proper table, on a proper chair, able to see the changes you were planning as they happened, and for a while Corrie's eyes swept aimlessly over the walls, unsure of where to start. It had been such a long time since she'd been in this position.
Color. Color was a good place to start. "Min, could you make the walls red, please? Dark at the top and fading into a brighter red at the bottom. You can keep the trim, if you like it." She watched thoughtfully as red began to bleed down the walls like heavy rain pouring over a windowpane. The trim remained, but turned a deep purple.
Lorcan was gone. For the weekend, he'd said - could she believe that, or was it just a test to see if she'd be able to control herself with the house? Could he really trust her to keep to herself that quickly? He had seemed concerned about her, and opened up about his concerns about magic more than she would have expected after their argument. And it had been a week between him catching her and accepting her apology, and it was Lorcan, and he didn't play games like some people, so...
He must really be gone. Where? To Tibet, to see Pema? No. He would have taken Min with him then, and used the seven-league spells built into her. That would have been simpler, and probably wouldn't have taken long. He must be somewhere nearby, then. He wouldn't leave Min for a whole weekend to go to another country. Somewhere in Britain then, probably. But where...? Suddenly Corrie realized that her gaze had drifted to the window and the trees beyond, and her thoughts to the world beyond that. It didn't matter where, or with whom, or why, she thought, sighing. It wasn't her business what he did. Him leaving gave her a chance to spend more time with Min, and that's what was important.
The walls were done, rich and red and bloody, and the window had widened to let in more light. The view was different, too - Min had turned to change it, like she'd always used to. Corrie's smile widened as well. "Oh, you want me to see the scenery?" she teased. "It is a pretty day. Maybe I should just go outside and enjoy that instead...?"
The curtain dropped down petulantly, and Corrie dissolved in giggles. "I was just kidding, honey," she said, patting the table. "It's too hot out anyway, it's much nicer here with you. But... maybe it would be nice to have the table closer to the window, so it's easier to look out? Don't you think?"
She stood up without waiting for an answer, starting to move the chair herself. But it wiggled itself out of her hands before she could do much more than grip it, and she let go with a surprised "oop!" as it waddled over to the window, side-by-side with the table. She'd forgotten Min could do that. The curtain slowly curled itself back up, letting in the light again - it looked like Min agreed with her expert assessment.
Amused by the reaction and excited by this regained sense of power, Corrie turned now to survey the walls. Dramatic. Maybe a little too dramatic (and dark) for summer, though it would be pretty for later in the year. Cozy, with a fireplace over there, the light from the fire shining over the room and making the walls glow... And a sofa cuddling near for warmth, with a rug in front of it...
A fireplace. That's right. "Min, could you make a fireplace against that wall there? And keep it there no matter what other changes I ask for?" She needed another way of getting to and from Min if the magic situation really kept getting worse. She hadn't splinched herself yet since all of this started happening, but from the way things were going, it was just a matter of time, and she wasn't going to let wonky magic keep her away from what was hers. Not even if routine apparation started to get dangerous. And it very well could. After all, it was already setting flats on fire, making lights explode, knocking holes in walls, and obliviating people at random.
Corrie frowned. And getting people pregnant, or at least failing to keep them from getting. Shay and Albus were pregnant. Shay and Albus. They were pregnant, and moving in together, and with that kind of luck they were probably going to get married any day now...
It wasn't a bad thing, having children and getting married and living together with the person you loved. If it was going to work. If you were good for each other and it wasn't likely to fall apart painfully and spectacularly. But there was no reason to think this was going to work. Albus didn't even know when he was flirting (or he just didn't believe he was, which was just as bad), he obviously wasn't happy about being "tied down," he thought Shay was a burden. How could he be trusted to stick around? How could he be trusted to be with one person for the rest of their lives? They'd been breaking up and getting back together for ages, but breakups didn't happen for no reason. They couldn't possibly last long.
And even if they did, dammit, it made her feel like such a loser. Here were two people she'd gone to school with, the same age as her, she'd even shared a dorm with Shay. They'd all been through seven years of collective screwups and silliness and assorted minor traumas that didn't seem quite as traumatic from a distance of several years and life in the real world. Even Albus, who Corrie hadn't known that well in school, he was a part of the whole group. Of her childhood. She thought she remembered seeing him pick his nose when they were firsties. And now these two were going off and having real, grown-up careers and getting pregnant and buying a house. It just wasn't fair.
Corrie let out a growl of frustration and turned to stalk back to the table. The fireplace was more structural (or something) than asking for color on the walls, and would probably take awhile to make, so she might as well sit and watch from a more comfortable position. "Minifred, life would be a lot nicer if we could stop ourselves making comparisons," she said, when she'd reached the chair and sat. When in doubt, talk it out. Even if it was just a house listening, it wasn't really like talking to yourself. "Do you do that? Do you see a nice little house in the distance and find yourself wondering how you measure up?" She sighed and chuckled ruefully, fingering the windowframe as she remembered something Lorcan had said in his entry about Min. She's the cutest house I know - and she knows it too. "No, guess you wouldn't... you know just how pretty you are, don't you? And clever, you little vain thing." She brought both hands up and tickled them around the corners of the frame, laughing. "I have a hunch you might be spoiled rotten, but you're still my sweet little Min."
Her smile faded a bit, growing wistful at the corners, and she leaned back against the wall, sitting sideways on the chair Min had provided. A compromise. Her left hand dropped to her lap. Her right turned, resting with its back against the wall as well, and she sighed. "But you've seen more than I have still," she said, eyes gazing up, back and over. "I went to Canada - I don't think you've been there. I should tell you about it sometime. Maybe I could bring my pictures here and have you put them up?" She paused and thought. Lorcan had said not to do anything like she'd done before, and he hadn't seemed happy about her making his photos appear, to the point that he'd even confronted her about it. But he'd said he'd like to see hers, and bringing them here and letting him look whenever he had the time would be much more comfortable than having him over to her flat and showing him, or taking him aside some day after testing the seven-league broom... "Maybe not," she muttered. Too complicated. Why did everything have to be complicated?
She sighed again, and yawned. "I'll tell you, at least," she promised. "I'll tell you all about it. I just wish you could tell me what you've seen too. I would've liked to see it firsthand, but-" Corrie shook her head. No. Not going there, not today. Min couldn't do anything about that, and Corrie wouldn't have asked her even if she could. "I really wanted to travel with you," she said quietly. "I wanted to travel, and see different things and people and places, and learn things and explore, and find interesting rocks and weird plants and things. I would've had a huge pile of little pebbles I'd found, you would've needed another whole room for all - all my random crap. I wanted to not know what I'd see when I looked out the window. And to wake up and find I was in another country... awww. Sorry," she said, taking her free hand away from her mouth and tapping the nails of her other against the wall. "You're really not boring me, promise. It's just been a long day. Could you open the window just a bit, for some fresh air? Thanks."
For a few minutes she sat in silence, deeply breathing in the summer air as it blew in past her. Every blink seemed to lengthen, slowing with her heartbeat, and when she spoke again her voice was faint and dreamy.
"Where did you go? I know he took you to Africa, and he was talking about maybe Australia next. Did you ever make it there, or go on to somewhere else? What was your favourite place...?" She closed her eyes - just for a moment, just a rest. It was so comfortable sitting here with the air and the wall, and the feeling of being mostly alone but not quite. She'd missed that. "When were you in... Indonesia? Do you miss it when you're here...?"
Darkness behind eyelids, the light barely pressing in. A solid wall at her back. Min's listening silence, and the soft natural sounds outside the window growing softer by the second. For a long time Corrie didn't say anything, simply inhaled and exhaled, her thoughts spiraling gently away into sleep.
There was something huge on her face, and it wasn't her hair.
Corrie jerked awake, hands flailing up to frantically brush it away, whatever it was. The feeling disappeared, or at least whatever was causing it did, but her skin still crawled, and the room was unfamiliarly dark, and she'd hit her head against a wall and nearly fallen out of - what was it, a wooden chair? Where was she?
A literal light - soft and flickering like a candle - came on suddenly, as if someone had been reading her mind. But it didn't help much. Her eyes were clear, but her brain was too fuzzy to process anything, and the room she was in was completely unfamiliar.
The walls were at least half white, but it didn't look that way from all the colour crawling over them. It was mostly green, different shades of green - blocks of olive marching along the wall where it met the ceiling, chased by gold and white squiggles in an odd, stair-looking pattern. The ceiling itself was taken up by swirls of dark green lines that looked like a symbolic representation of an overgrown pine forest trying to swallow the world. Here and there it was broken up by flowers in various colours. And the walls...
The walls were covered in bright green, light green, bluish green, and splashes of purple. Organic shapes, fronds and foliage and twisty vines twining their way up and down and around. Roundish shapes piled up so they looked like scales. The calmly flickering light made it all look like it was moving, waving in some mysterious breeze.
And in the middle of it on the wall opposite her, a fireplace, big and solid and completely clashing with the rest of the decor.
"Ohhh," Corrie breathed. She was in Min! And the walls... seaweed and fish scales, like Lorcan had mentioned in his entry. Indonesia! Hadn't she been saying something about Indonesia before she'd apparently fallen asleep? Min must have taken that as a suggestion.
It was a good suggestion, she thought, gazing at the walls in sluggish but undisguised delight. It was beautiful - amazing - far better than anything she could've made up just by herself. She almost felt like she was underwater herself, which was a very welcome sensation this time of year. "All it's missing is some fish," Corrie murmured. Was that the sort of thing Lorcan and Min had seen in their travels? Now she really was jealous.
She walked closer to get a better look at one of the walls, but was distracted by a clicking sound and the sight of something small whizzing toward her. She ducked instinctively, but almost too slow - her impromptu nap had left her warm, weak and faintly shaky, and her reflexes were off. It turned and buzzed her again, and she ran in the opposite direction, hands over her head. It landed on the wall, but with all the colour she couldn't see it... until it crawled out into a splotch of white.
A beetle! Well, that was better than a bee or something. That must have been what had woken her up! Maybe it came in through the open window, or maybe it was the one Lorcan had been chasing, she couldn't remember if he'd said it flew outside again or not. It probably didn't matter, but...
Corrie reached for her wand and hesitated. Hadn't he blown a hole in the wall trying to catch probably-not-that-beetle before? She didn't want to do any damage to Min, even if Lorcan might understand it. And she didn't want to accidentally set fire to the beetle itself, either. That would be gross. "Min," she began quietly, her eyes on the beetle as it made its way toward another clump of seaweed, but she was interrupted by a yawn. Still sleepy. "Please bring me a cup, plastic if you can, or glass if it's very strong - I don't want it to break. And a flat piece of paper or parchment. Put them right by my feet. And after that, please change the walls to white." She hated to get rid of that motif, but it would be too hard to see that beetle on it.
"All right, then," she said, cup in one hand and paper in the other, eying the beetle as it crawled on the now-blank ceiling. "Let's see how fast you are. You and me, pal..."
She flapped the paper at the beetle, and it flew away, but with the colour gone from the walls it was much easier to see where it went - though not necessarily easy to get there in time to catch it without squashing it flat. It took a few minutes for Corrie to succeed in her quest, but eventually the beetle was in the cup, which she'd managed to not crack or shatter, and the paper was over the top with an elastic hair band holding it on. She punched a dozen or so small airholes in the paper with a biro in her purse, made a quick trip outside to pick some grass and tiny leaves with the vague idea that beetles ate that sort of thing, and before long she had a beetle-friendly environment that would keep it safe and fed, hopefully, until Lorcan was back to take a look at it. And all without resorting to magic. It was like being nine again. She felt like climbing a tree or having a stick-race down a stream. Instead she scribbled a note on the bit of the paper that wasn't functioning as a lid, to say that it 'probably wasn't the same beetle, but just in case...' and set the whole thing on the table by the window (which was now firmly shut against insects and other intruders).
There. And people thought she was a failure! Look at all she'd managed to do in the... however long she'd been there. How long had she been there, anyway?
Corrie checked her phone and swore through yet another yawn. Well, that explained why she was starving. She didn't know how she'd managed to doze for so long in that driftwood chair, but she was pretty sure her body wouldn't thank her for it tomorrow. And tomorrow was mascot practice. "Min, please bring back the Indonesian motif from a few minutes ago, and... no, thank you, I don't need a bed." She cringed - no matter where that bed came from, she was pretty sure that staying overnight was crossing the line. Even with Lorcan gone for the weekend. Anyway, she needed to eat dinner, and she definitely wasn't going to raid his kitchen. "That's very thoughtful, sweetie, but I need to leave. Take care of the beetle for me, all right? I'll be back tomorrow afternoon." She smiled and rubbed the table once more, and said, "I love you." Then she apparated away, not noticing the tiny flashes of fish that were now darting around the walls from seaweed patch to seaweed patch.