halcyon_houses

Who: Kenzie and Diarmad
When: Sunday Morning
Where: Head of Halcyon

Ezra was not okay. He was sick. He kept talking to himself and he was all cold and clammy and then he was all hot and he kept throwing up. He wasn't okay. And Kenzie had no idea what to do. He had spent the past couple of days watching him, sitting in the floor, crouched down, chewing on his nails, trying to figure out what to do. Finally, he had come to the decision that he was not cut out for this, and when one last attempt to wake Ezra up failed, Kenzie knew he had to get help.

Tugging on some clothes, many less layers than what was typical, he moved to the door, one glance given back in Ezra's direction before he moved out int the hall. He glanced around, looking for someone, anyone, that might be of some help, but there was no one in the hall. He fidgeted, not sure what he should do as he had never been in a situation like this.

What if Ezra died?

That thought illicited a strange sense of panic, and before he knew what he was actually doing, before he had time to actually think about it, he started knocking on the other doors, yelling "Help!". Someone had to be home. Someone had to be there. There had to be someone to help. He couldn't let Ezra die. Ezra was all that he had. He really would be lost again without him.

Who: Anastasiya and Diarmad
Where: Their Suite
When: Saturday Night after Rebecca's post
What: God these kids are stubborn

More than a week had passed, and still he remained. Nearly two weeks. His only movement had been to his classes, and then he was right back to his self appointed station.

And Diarmad called Anastasiya stubborn.

How many times had she gone to the door, thinking to open it, to speak to him, to plead with him, to convince him as she’d failed to do already. He was free, as free as he could be. No, Asya couldn’t offer him that, but she gave what she could. Not good enough, but there was nothing more to do. Nothing short of ending both of their lives. And that he wouldn’t allow either. Of course, neither would she. She didn’t want to die, didn’t want Diarmad to die, and thought that perhaps, he wouldn’t want her dead either.

But Asya never knew what of what he said and did was duty, and what might be more.

She’d thought… perhaps… after all, it had seemed so. But she’d been wrong, hadn’t she? Like a servant girl broken and weeping at his feet. She had, in that moment, given her all for him, left herself completely bare. Nothing. There was nothing from him.

And it was Anastasiya that so many called Icy.

It was servants that spoke to him, every few hours, and reported back to their mistress. Always the same word. No Mistress, he’ll not relinquish his post. Short of causing a scene in the hallway, which she felt his continued presence their did regardless, Asya was at a loss in what to do. There was one who’s opinion she always valued in such tough situations, but he was currently standing outside her door like, well… like she was a princess and he her guard.

No, the irony was not at all lost on her. If irony was even the right word. Whatever it was… Asya was at a loss. Not to mention she felt humiliated, doubly so, and a sickness in the pit of her stomach that had begun in Germany and begun to fester the night of her return. That Diarmad had not slept was obvious to her, mostly because she had not either. Not one day or night since then, though, in the beginning she had tried. Neither had she fed. Her time anymore was spent gazing at the door as though she could see him through it. The problem was, no matter how much she wanted to push him away, and make him go away… she didn’t at all want him to. She wanted him right there by her side. Not as servant. As Diarmad.

Maybe if she’d never admitted it it would be less painful. Yes. She was certain it would be less painful. Before she’d prostrated herself she at least had her pride. Now she didn’t even have that. She had wealth, opulence, anything of value she could desire right at her command. But none of that mattered did it? These things she had always had. These things did nothing to fill the gaping hole in her heart. A hole more obvious now than ever before.

Work actually gave her chance to forget herself for a few hours a day. Forget herself. A strange concept, but the only way of keeping her sanity. For those few hours, the pain felt to be more of a dull throb then a piercing ache. Though a frantic journal entry from Rebecca had brought back a surge of emotion. Anger.

Her first thought was to find the culprit and give them a bit of pain of their own. And those who taunted Rebecca as well, Asya wished to see them suffer as well. She did neither… yet. The first thing she did was to go to her door. She hesitated but a moment before she opened it. “Your niece needs you.” She said. “Someone has attacked her.”

The night was late. Within hours the sun would take the sky and a new day would begin. Diarmad was, as he had been for days before, standing before the door to Asya’s room. The only time he left was to see to his classes, taking that time to catch up on what he could before taking stance once more. If she left he followed, it was his place, it was what he had given word to do. There was not much for Diarmad left to honor within himself but his word was his bond. It was how he was raised; it was what he was taught. Do not give your word unless you mean what you speak.

Long ago he had given his word to protect. It was not simply because of the ties she had created between them that he had done so. It wasn’t at her urging or at her demand. He gave his word because he knew that she needed it. Though prideful she needed one to watch her, to ensure her safety…not always from outside forces, more often then not it was from her own self that Diarmad had need to protect her from. She did not make his job easy, constantly it was a struggle.

Now, however, was different. Again she’d cast him away, speaking words of freedom that were nothing but hollow. How could he be free when she still held that piece of him within her own hands? How could he ever simply walk away knowing at any time she could cause pain to him that no matter his strength or his pride, brought him to his knees. That was not freedom, that was dismissal. As before she dismissed him and he was to do as she spoke, to do as she said. He had before and he regretted the choice. This time he’d not.

He knew she had done something to put her life, and his, at even deeper threat. More then ever his place here was needed. But he knew also that in what she had done…others were at risk. Those that he held dear. Guards he trusted were near them, though it would not appear so. They patrolled as guards always did but they made sure to keep an eye out. Diarmad could not be all places at once, much as he might wish himself able to.

Arms were crossed against his stomach; large wings were curled around his shoulders. He was still; it would nearly seem he was indeed turned to stone there before the door. But no sunlight touched his form, none had for what seemed years now. There was no true rest to be found without that stone flesh but there was no ease for Diarmad within that prison. By the life she had caused him to lead he could go far longer then many without rest or movement. He was uncertain now how long it had been since he’d closed his eyes for a night or a day. But it mattered little.

While her eyes were closed, his own would stay open.

More then once a teacher had come by, a staff member of the school curiously glancing his way but most said nothing. The few that had were given only the simple answer that he was guarding. It didn’t seem sufficient answer to some but none truly pushed it farther then that. It was not just before her door that he lingered, he paced the hall. Yes even here to the staff quarters guards did patrol.

Diarmad rarely ever patrolled only one area, now it was how he spent his nights.

Time ticked by, slowly lights around the castle began to turn on. Hallways lit up, a new school day had begun. Diarmad could hear forms shifting behind their doors beginning to prepare for the day.

Diarmad stayed, lingering until the time of his classes drew him away.

When: Monday Night
Where: Their Room
Who: Diarmad and Asya

Diarmad could feel her in the air; he could sense her movements cutting through the falling rain. Still he stayed perched upon the balcony railing, large wings curled around his large form as his dark eyes pierced through the night. Watching. He had not moved for hours, taking place the moment the sun had fallen from the sky. He knew tonight she'd return, she'd waited as long as she could and now returned knowing Diarmad had been pushed past all points of patience. All words to allude to nothing more then a vacation away were a waste, a pathetic attempt to treat him as though he were a fool.

She stayed this long away for reason. What that reason was, the why of it, he knew he did not truly wish to know. Yet he knew he had need to. If she would speak it, that was another matter all together. He was only slave and had no rights to any answers. She had made that clear to him before leaving. Reminding him always of his place in this life she had created for them.

Rain fell; the soft sound of it filled the night and yet brought no ease to Diarmad's frame. The sting of the rain did not chill the bare flesh of his shoulders; it did not sooth away troubles or ills as he waited. It was simply background to racing thoughts that would not still even when she finally showed herself. Such thoughts had not stopped for days, weeks....

To many it was obvious something was amiss, something troubling him that he'd not speak. Even words with Rebecca and Cora had been brief. There was little he could say to them, no words to truly offer. He knew to curb his anger, he knew to keep control and that he had many reasons that made that need so. Yes he knew, he understood, he had for centuries now. Constantly fighting those urges to simply give in, to let all of who he was slip away.

But honor bound him just as her own blood did. He could not disgrace the blood in his veins that was not hers. His family. They taught him strength that he could not forget.

Nearer and nearer she drew to the school, not even a muscle twitched in movement. Diarmad was still as a statue, appearing nearly frozen as though stone skin kept him there. But eyes surveyed the area seen from that balcony. Diarmad was awake as he’d been for weeks now. Waiting.

Soon the car could be seen in the distance, the headlights cutting through the night. Diarmad could see the outline of the driver, a servant that would be put in charge of ensuring all her bags were brought to the room as well. Never would the princess drive her own self nor carry her own bags. Though she was princess no longer in this world, little would change her ways.

The car stilled, the man scrambled with the bags as Diarmad watched. He did not leave his perch to give aid. His eyes were trained on the car where he knew she sat, delaying. Not even the movement of the servant at the door bringing those bags in turned Diarmads gaze. No he’d wait as long as she. He’d make her face him from first step out of that car.

Who: Halcyon Staff
Where: Common room in the Staff Building
When: Saturday Afternoon
What: Staff get together

The week had been a quiet one for Dove, and she was happy to have that brief moment of calm. The student body, even though she knew there was always some social drama happening, had been in a good mood this week. There wasn't anybody clamoring at her door to get in, no one seemed to have had any vent worthy situations to talk about. Not too many in the school had any serious problems, most of the time people just needed to vent to someone that had an outside perspective on the situation. It amused her sometimes though, when people of the same social circle would knock on her door, all with related problems. She always encouraged them to talk to their friends about it, they would undoubtedly be a wonderful support system for them, when she herself wasn't always available. Of course, if they actually listened to that particular piece of advice, she might be out of a job. On the other hand, she didn't know too many psychologists who would deal with supernatural beings.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft chime sounding from an alarm on her laptop. There was a staff get together of some fashion happening today, and Dove decided she would make an appearance. Having been here for awhile, she was friendly with the staff, but between the newcomers and everyone's busy schedules, she hadn't devoted as much time to them as she should. It was healthy to have social connections, and unhealthy not to maintain them. That's what the general gist of most of her books had told her, and she just happened to agree. It was time to put a name to new faces and remind herself of others. Dove was a cheerful person and very easy to get along with, so she didn't feel that anxiety some might about a bunch of people in the same room together.

Shutting her laptop down and tidying up her desk she got ready to head down to the commons room in the staff house. Quickly, she scribbled a note on a post-it that would be taped to her front door. It explained that she would be out of her office for the afternoon and if an emergency came about to find a guard who would be able to reach her. She never knew when someone would try to unhinge her door in an existential crisis. It didn't take long to get herself together, and she was off.

Arriving in the commons room, she had hoped she dressed appropriately. It was a saturday, but it was still a staff gathering so she wanted to appear casual and professional at the same time. She wore a pair of dark jeans, black healed boots, and an emerald green wrap around sweater. He hair was left loose in long curls and her make-up wasn't much, a very light dusting of eyeshadow and clear gloss. Deciding she was presentable enough, she walked into the room.

Dove would thank Rozlyn an the other staff who helped put this together at some point, they certainly created a warm and friendly atmosphere. It wasn't overly formal or fancy, something she appreciated. There were a couple couches, some chairs and coffee tables set up - more of a room for conversation than anything else. Dove headed over to one of the tables first before she sat down. Coffee, tea, and food platters were provided, and there was some light music playing in the background. At the very least, it was going to be a much deserved afternoon of relaxation for the staff that worked at Halcyon.

Before long she had a hot mug filled with herbal tea, and a small plate filled with fruit. Sitting down in one of the chairs, she waited for more people to arrive.