Olivia and River don't (shootempolitely) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2012-10-19 20:42:00 |
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Entry tags: | plot: halloween |
Who: Olivia
What: Reveals.
When: Sins plot
Olivia is certain in the brief and stingingly clear moment between one breath and the next, that inhalation between majesty and fallen might. It is an agonizing moment - if only because she remembers how it is to breathe without paranoia as cold clamp around her lungs, clammy chill sucked in along with the air. How it feels to know without fear as the Queen's fear (of an angel, a fallen angel - how strange) bleeds out into the afterparty's gloom and she is left with blessedly clear head and a heart that feels light and empty and she is dizzy with the lack of Fury's ever-present inner-ear whisper.
She is caught up along with the press toward the exits, silk that dragged in a tattered train along the floor now the same vivid red jersey dress she'd pulled over her head after work, her suit and the high, impossible shoes neat imprints of where she had been immediately prior on her bedroom floor. She is caught up and her throat is like knives when she swallows and her skin is sticky and clammy but she can breathe.
When she crosses between the worlds, they are as they have been and Olivia is beneath the iron-cast weight of someone else's certainty the world will destroy itself before dawn.
She studies the ring of bruises, purpled and mottling in the hard and gray light of the bathroom mirror. She presses gentle fingertips to the blood, and they come away tacky. Olivia is tattooed by gore but the fear, that feather-light thing carried across the threshold, is misery enough to turn out all the lights, to send her to bed in darkness she can't - quite - trust.