calle montgomery rankin (she_mimics) wrote in epicenes, @ 2008-12-28 12:04:00 |
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Entry tags: | mimic, shadowcat |
who: calle rankin and open
what: the aftermath of the attack
when: december 28th, late afternoon
where: outside the mansion, in the back, by the fountain.
rating: pg 13 for language.
Calle, like most everyone else, had been really upset after the attack on the mansion. She was just two days behind in feeling it. After Jackie had healed her, Calle still had to stay in the med-wing for another day and a half before they let her go. She wasn't feeling dizzy anymore, and she'd managed to stay conscious for the entire day and a half other than normal sleep patterns. A clean bill of physical health was given and she was off.
But mental health? Not so clean.
The first thing Calle had done after getting out of the med-wing was go buy herself a damn pack of cigarettes. And she'd bought more since then, devouring pack after pack. She'd quit for a while, but she couldn't see the point of quitting anymore. Each day that passed brought back something more and more unpleasant. Not only flashbacks to the Sistahood attack, but flashbacks to the last night she spent with her father - memories of things during her childhood before he died that she didn't want to go through again, that she thought she was over. Apparently not.
It was cold outside, but not enough to keep the chain-smoker from being out there. She wore a thick black peacoat over just a plain grey t-shirt and jeans, ratty old black converse shoes adorning her feet. Not the most put together look, especially without any make-up, her hair pulled into a bun to be out of her face. But at least she was keeping warm? She brought a cigarette up to her face, taking a drag from it to try and calm herself. Her hand was shaking, not from the cold, and tears were running down her cheeks. Little, inaudible noises left her mouth.
She hadn't talked to anyone since Jackie. She had talked to Tricia for a few minutes but that was about it. Teddy hadn't talked to her, and Calle somehow didn't want to make the effort to talk to Teddy - something just felt broken. What might have been a great new-forming relationship seemed to have crumbled along with the mansion, the kitchen, everything. She wasn't sure what was going on with that, but it was one of the last things on her mind at this point, even if she did need someone around.
There was nothing she could do, though. Nothing right now except sit in the backyard on a bench outside by the fountain, crying, and smoking.