Darcie Black (halfwaytogone) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2012-01-28 14:34:00 |
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Entry tags: | #solo, 2009-08-30, darcie |
The hot cocoa won't make itself
Who: Darcie and Rodger (NPC)
When: Afternoon
Where: Home
Things had happened yesterday.
The world had been blown up with fire -- the fire elemental would've loved that -- and people had died. Darcie knew because she'd seen it on the television. She'd been dangling off the edge of the couch, singing a song about Mary and her little snake, when Rodger had turned it on. She'd sulked at him for paying attention to the television instead of her for a whole thirty seconds before she'd been distracted by all of the fire. It'd smelled like smoke and death and blood there, it must've. With all the people who had limbs twisted around while the flames licked at their flesh and their clothes... chaos, sheer chaos, all that fire was good for. How could anyone care about something that was made with fire when it was just going to burn and kill everything in their way? No, no Darcie didn't think that fire was good for anyone or anything and this just proved it all over again. It hadn't needed proving. It still proved it. She'd have picked up the phone and told Zaviar herself if Rodger hadn't snatched it away and told her that she wasn't supposed to be talking to him right now.
That hadn't gone over well and she'd missed the rest of whatever the man on the television was saying because she'd been trying to get the phone back from Rodger. It wasn't fair that he was stronger than her. It was even less fair that he played dirty. Air didn't try to strangle him like it did her so when he got winded he could keep going. She had to stop and clutch at her throat, begging for it to open up and her lungs to take the air that she'd forsaken back so that she could keep going. These little fights always ended with her tucked into bed, drenched in sweat while Rodger talked her back into breathing. Sometimes it didn't happen until she'd passed out and her body had picked back up on it naturally and those were the days followed by her waking with an aching head and a dry taste in her mouth. Dry was a taste, she'd said so and her psychologist had agreed. Or had it been another patient? Whoever it'd been, they'd been wearing a white coat and she'd met them at the hospital.
So she'd woken up tasting dry and feeling awful. Rodger hadn't been at home, but he'd left a note that Darcie crumpled and tossed at the garbage without reading. She didn't care about his reasons. He'd probably unplugged the phones and hidden the jacks on her again so she didn't even bother checking. She hated when he did that. Treating her like a child who couldn't do what she was told. Well, it wasn't that she couldn't it was that she didn't and she didn't because she was an adult who could make her own decisions! If she wanted to call Zaviar and make sure that he hadn't been blown up into pieces by the disgusting element then she could. Sulking over that she started to sing a tune that had been floating around her head as she went up on her tiptoes to peer into the cabinet. Ah, there was the little blue case that held her pills for the day. Including an extra one for the ache in her head. She'd have to remember to thank Rodger for including that, only she wouldn't. She'd forget by the time she'd gotten the glass of water she needed to swallow them down.
But the water was cold and Darcie made a face once she was finished with it. She didn't want cold she wanted something hot. It didn't matter that it was a little warm in the house, she reveled in the heat, even though she disliked the fire that was necessary for it. Which was why she had thrown a fit at Rodger until he got one of those electric ovens where she couldn't see the fire that might be responsible. There still had to be fire, she refused to think that there couldn't be, but she didn't have to see it and that made her happy. She even kept humming as she put the teapot on and jumped up on the counter to wait for it to whistle. She hated the waiting part. Why couldn't it just heat instantly and be done with? Darcie couldn't remember how many times she'd put water on to boil, forgotten about it, and wandered off to do something else. By the time she returned the kettle had been ruined because the water had all boiled away and the heat had kept going. They needed to have a guard against that sort of thing.
"It's not even fair," Darcie remarked to nothing in particular as she picked at a bit of dirt that had gotten under her nails. No, no, no she couldn't have dirt anywhere on her! Air was already angry enough without needing that extra bit of a reason to hate her. What wasn't fair she didn't know because the thought had flitted in and out of her head before she could grasp it fully. Kind of like a butterfly that she had been playing with a few days ago. Only she had managed to catch that! It had been such a pretty thing, orange and black with those delicate wings, and Darcie had pouted for quite awhile when she opened her fist to find it squished all over the inside. No one had told her that butterflies broke that easily. That she'd caught multiple ones the same way with the same turnout didn't matter because she couldn't remember that. It wasn't an Important Event so it didn't even get ten minutes worth of memory. Darcie only remembered the important things. And what was that whistling sound? "Oh!" She reached over to turn off the burner and poured the water into her cup. Without hesitating she took a drink, unbothered by the heat that scalded her tongue and the inside of her mouth, but thoroughly displeased with the taste. Where was the sweetness that was supposed to go with hot chocolate? And it wasn't even brown!
The ceramic made a delightful cracking and shattering noise when it struck the wall, water going everywhere. If it wasn't going to taste like the hot chocolate that she wanted then Darcie wasn't going to drink it! Arms crossed over her chest she slipped off the counter and shuffled her way into the living room. Dropping onto the couch she toyed with the edge of the skirt she'd pulled on. It was one of Rodger's favorite. The top was one of hers and the shoes just felt nice. That the colors clashed and she'd be given the oddest looks if she stepped out of the house didn't even matter to her. Darcie wore what Darcie wanted to wear unless she was forced into something else, and even then she'd put up a decent fight. She didn't see what the big deal about clothes was. They were just a thing that she wore because people got all offended or upset when she walked around without them. Like it mattered. They all knew what naked people looked like and if they didn't then they needed to learn. Darcie would be an active advocate of walking around naked just because it'd mean that much less work to do. And that much less she had to worry about when she accidentally shifted and ruined yet another pair of clothes that Rodger needed to replace.
Darcie was singing again when she heard footsteps, a click in the door and then the musky scent of Rodger. "Darcie?"
She liked to play a game. It was called 'hide from Rodger'. It had worked much better in the time before when she'd thought it out, but now it still worked. And she was quieter now. She was able to dart down the hall and into the bathroom, ducking into the tub with the curtain closed around her before the door closed again. The hard part was not snickering. The hardest part was trying to hold her breath so that he couldn't hear her breathe. It was easy to close air out, yes, but it'd be hard to convince him that it was okay to come back into her lungs. She wasn't really refusing or turning him away again, she was just trying to hide from Rodger.
"Darcie? I know you're here. The kettle's still hot and I can smell you." She could smell him too. And hear that sigh that came when he found the broken mug. "Another one? What were you trying to make this time?" No, no she couldn't answer him or he'd be able to find her. Rodger kept talking, saying these nonsensical little things that she couldn't be bothered to pay attention to. They were just words, noises made with air that she didn't need. Just to keep herself from being too tempted, Darcie clapped her hands over her ears and kept her mouth shut so that she didn't get any hints as to where Rodger was. Except she couldn't close out those vibrations that he made. She still gave a jump of surprise when he pulled back the curtain and smiled down at her. "Found you. So. What were you trying to make?"
"Hot chocolate."
Rodger reached down to help her up. "You need to add the powder, Darcie."
Darcie stuck her lower lip out in a pout. "I know that."
"Of course you do. Want to try again?"
"No." A pause. "Yes. And I can do it on my own." Darcie slipped out of Rodger's grasp and skipped ahead into the kitchen to do just that. What she really wanted to do was find the jacks for the phone so that she could call and check on Zaviar, but Rodger wouldn't let her. He could be so stubborn. "Can I call Zaviar?"
Rodger sighed. "Maybe later. After you make your hot chocolate." No doubt he thought that by then she'd forget.
And he was right, Darcie forgot. Like she always did.