Purity Z Storms (purityzstorms) wrote in low_tide, @ 2009-11-15 18:08:00 |
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Current mood: | ecstatic |
Grown Up
Crosslegged on the carpet, Rhiannon sifted through a file cabinet full of clues to her life. She found old bills, insurance records and certificates, the most interesting item a transcript from art school. Her two lives closely mirrored each other, which relieved her. It made the memories overlap better. The biggest challenge was figuring out which world events hadn't occurred yet, like the curtain that still hung over the supernatural.
A file marked 'The Garden' caught her eye. Upon opening it, she discovered invoices for property damage to a plate-glass window, as well as a canceled check. In March 2009, Rhiannon had paid $850 to the local floral shop. The owner was Purity Storms.
"Get the fuck out of town. A florist?" She jumped up, laced boots on her feet, and headed out of the house. The mid-morning sun beat down on the Slayer's face, so that she squinted even behind the protection of sunglasses. At the end of the sidewalk, she took a left, her memories of the shop's location coming back in fragments. Picturing the witch was harder, especially when she tried to willfully set aside what she knew of Purity from Chicago. Was she a practicing witch here? Was she dumped in this place, too, or was this girl entirely separate from the one she knew and lived with? "Please, please, please... know who I am."
White Siberia Lilies. Sunset Gerbera. Blue Iris. Pink Asiatic Lilies... All names that she shouldn't have known, and yet standing in the middle of the small shop, Purity was starting to recognize them. Some she had no clue, but little by little tiny snippets of the life she had taken over were seeping into her mind. Like wading through water while it was foggy. When she'd gotten... Home? It had been like a treasure hunt.
Searching and scavenging to find out who she had been. What had startled her the most wasn't owning a floral shop, or that the most recent piece of mail was dated as '09, it was one of the pictures stuck to her fridge. Graduation. Grinning like a fool with her sister hugging her, both her parents standing proudly on either side. That had been enough reason to walk out and find that shop.
Now, standing there, Purity realised it was like being caught in a rainbow. Colours had always been important to her, now she sold them in bunches. Closer inspection had uncovered log books of deliveries and times for the future, lists of customers and even a few crystals placed around in nooks and corners. Oddly, that relieved her, she could recognize them for what they were and was comforted by the fact that this version of herself was as Wiccan as her.
With her back to the door, the witch gazed at the many various flowers and decided she quite liked them.
Rhiannon stopped on the sidewalk outside the shop. The window was enormous. It offered a view of floral arrangements, many of the flowers exotic. As she lifted the shades from her eyes, she got a clear mental image of what that glass looked like shattering around a vampire, the display coming apart like a house of cards. $850. Oops.
With a sinking sensation, Rhiannon came to an understanding: Purity Storms and she were not friends in Key West. "Shit." She scrambled for a reason to go in there, in case the florist still thought of her as that bitch who destroyed her storefront. Funeral flowers? Who the hell had died? Maybe she could invent a sick grandparent in a convalescent facility. Yeah, how about not throwing a vase at my head, I come in grief?
She opened the door and propped her sunglasses on her head.
There was a small jingle as the door was pushed open, and Purity took in a slow breath and tried to act natural. "I'm sorry," she began, already turning. "We're clo-..." Eyes widened at the sight of a friend. No wait... That wasn't right. Again she waded through that foggy haze as little snippets came back.
The broken window. The shouting match and bitter exchange of details. All those crushed flowers strewn around like confetti. For a moment she stood there blankly, quietly mourning their friendship that they didn't have. Coughing, she walked away from the Slayer and stood behind the counter. Was she meant to act normal? What was her normal here?
Fingers tapped restlessly as she chewed her lower lip. Was it possible that whatever had happened to her, had happened to other people? How did you ask that question without sounding crazy? "Rhi?" If the woman bitched at her for not using her full name then it would be safe to say that she wasn't the Slayer she'd come to view as practically family.
Rhiannon felt her pulse skip.
If only there were a nickname she could toss out. Coming farther into the shop, the Slayer decided on a past event instead, something that never could've happened in Key West. "The snowball fight." She felt like a fisherman casting out a line to see if anything bit. It was how they met. A freak snowstorm blanketed Las Vegas and the two women started an impromptu fight on the street. Afterwards, they went for coffee and struck up a friendship. "Are you with me?"
She edged up to the counter, hesitant in a way she normally wasn't. Hope swelled, a helium balloon rising towards a hot bulb that could pop it and scatter the pieces.
Those precious seconds of silence were enough to make Purity want to scream. Was it her? And then, out of the blue she heard three words that just didn't fit their surroundings or even the start to a conversation. It was a statement that made the witch's eyes light up, and she felt the laughter bubble up and spill from her lips with sheer joy and relief. Slender fingers brushed through her hair as she slowly shook her head.
"I followed you to Chicago, why wouldn't I follow you here?" The witch was staring at the dark haired Slayer in awe, clearly over the moon now that she knew she wasn't alone. Reaching over the counter, Purity wrapped as much of her arms as she could around her friend and gave her a warm, albeit awkward, hug.
"Hey...What makes you think I did this?" Rhiannon's mouth was squashed against Purity's shoulder, so the words were a mess, but she wasn't willing to let go for the sake of clarity. The counter bit into her stomach. She kept squeezing across it anyway. Even if letting go and wandering around it made more sense. "God, I am so insanely happy to see you."
Snorting against Rhiannon's ear as she tightened her grip on the woman briefly before letting go. Purity bit her lip and shook her head. "Well whatever happened, I'm glad we're here together, it almost makes it fun." Rubbing her face, the witch laughed and gave into the grin again. "You're giving me a face ache."
Combing her friend's hair aside, Rhiannon placed an enormous kiss on the witch's cheek. Then she leaned back and screwed up her face, half-laughing and half-frowning. "What's with the flowers? Was this some sort of lifelong aspiration and you were holding out on me?" Her own occupation, graphic design, was less of a leap from familiar territory; it was almost embarrassingly one-dimensional.
When the flowers were mentioned, Purity took her time looking around again, features bemused and curious. Finally she shrugged and waved her hands. "I like nature and colours? I have no idea where in the hell this came from." Though there was a bit of a secretive grin, and she leaned over the counter with narrowed eyes to whisper, "But you know what? I kinda like it." No real surprise there, she was her own boss, how could she not like that? "What about you, anything surprising so far?" The witch quirked an eyebrow.
Rhiannon rubbed the side of her neck. "Um. Nope." She shook her head. "Not really." Pivoting on her heel, she went to investigate a purple and red arrangement. Her fingers slipped behind the petals of a gerbera daisy. An involuntary flush crept up her throat. Figuring diversion was a spectacular idea, she said, "Apparently, the PTBs stuck me in a remarkably similar life, except younger me's a graphic designer instead of a comic book artist. Can't wait to figure out what was so important that we needed to take over people's brains to get it accomplished. I remember me at twenty-two. I got shit done fine on my own."
Purity couldn't help but smile when she saw that blush slowly work its way up Rhiannon's neck; whatever it was, it was going to be good. "Look at you all professional!" One hand lifted to splay against her cheek, and slowly Purity shook her head. "We're so... Grown up." For lack of a better way to phrase it, the witch shrugged and waved her hands around. "I guess we'll find out why we're here eventually, nothing like the element of surprise."
Rhiannon stepped back from the plants. The brunette made a slow circuit around the shop, taking in all of Purity's creations. "We could've used some of this artistic know-how in our old apartment."
Purity laughed before sighing dramatically. "Yeah well, the only thing I ever could do with a flower was make a daisy chain."
Rhiannon looked at her former roommate. "You know, Connor's living with me. We've got a house."
She cocked her head, eyebrows lifting slightly as she grinned. "Really? And are you two...?" She couldn't help it, considering anything could happen apparently. "I live alone." She nodded slowly, a tight lipped expression before casually adding, "I have a picture of me and my family on my fridge. Happy."
Rhiannon's eyebrows went up. "Really?" She hooked her thumbs in her back pockets and rocked on her heels. "That's different. Might want to figure out the deal before the holidays get here and they're showing up to hang garland or something." A smile lifted the corners of her mouth. Had her parents been alive here, she wasn't sure how she would've reacted; They both belonged to her and didn't. Maybe their absence made things easier.
"If they show up I'm blaming you. You do realise that, right? You fucking jinx." Purity was grinning as she said it, the corners of her eyes crinkling with amusement. Better to focus on the funnier side of things, or she was liable to move and not tell them, which was appealing but a bad idea. Too bad... She sighed lightly and gazed around the shop again, admiring the colours and scents.
Rhiannon rubbed her lips together and studied a bunch of vases. "You asked about me and Connor. Apparently... apparently things got a little racey about a week or two ago." The blush on her cheeks felt like a fever. "So. That was an awkward moment when we met up yesterday. 'Oh my god, so glad to see you! Wait... are you getting what I'm getting? Holy shit, I've seen you naked.' "
Her attention was pulled back to Rhiannon and the witch smiled with a soft, "Mh?" Only to blink a few times, then coughed a few times as she lifted her hands up and clapped them together quietly. "Wow, and how's that working out for ya?" She wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or not, clearly baffled. "Are you okay with that, do you think it's going to get between you two?" Purity smirked slightly, narrowing her eyes at the blush and added in a teasing tone, "Or bring you closer?"
"Right now, I'm just trying to breathe, but it's... definitely not bad." Rhiannon tapped her toe against the floor.
She chewed on her lip for a second, then looked up at Purity with an eye narrowed. "Honestly? This whole deal should be a fuck of a lot harder than it is. We lost our whole world, everything we built? And it's just sort of disorienting, instead of feeling like our arms have been ripped off. I had this dream. I woke up knowing I was supposed to be here, like it was fate or something, and that I should let go of everything back in Chicago. It doesn't need me anymore. But I feel guilty. I kind of...I dread that moment when I've found everyone that came with us, and I have to stop and think about everyone that didn't, and then hate myself because it doesn't hurt like hell." She snorted and shook her head. "God, that was way off topic."
Purity quirked an eyebrow and tilted her head slightly, a few dark strands of hair cascading down her cheek. Gently she tapped against the counter as she listened, and nodded a few times. "I know what you mean. I feel fine with it, but don't really understand why, the thing that bothers me is discovering how much is different. We weren't even friends, my family was..." She shrugged lightly, "I wonder what will happen when we meet, what I'll discover next, if any of our other friends are still our friends, or complete strangers. And if we meet them and they don't know us, or know us differently, how are we meant to act?"
Rhiannon lifted her shoulders. "Just act natural," she said, smiling because it wasn't that simple. "Whatever that means." She spotted a pen on the counter and went forward to pick it up. Taking one of the witch's business cards, she wrote down her number and Connor's, as well as their street address. "Where are you living? We're on Amelia Street, a few blocks from the water. The rent is out of control expensive." She slipped the square to her friend and capped the pen.
"It means try to behave appropriately," Purity quipped in a rather cheeky tone, bemused as the Slayer took one of the cards on the counter. Reading it upside down as her friend spoke, the witch took it and tucked it into her pants pocket. Capturing the pen, she quickly uncapped it and followed Rhiannon in writing down her address. "I'm on Southard Street, rent isn't terribly bad..." She nodded to all the flowers, "Guess those help with that." There was a mild shrug again and a curious look as she slid her address to the woman. "It seems like the kind of area I would feel comfortable in."
"Ah yes, and very gay-friendly," Rhiannon said as she slipped the card into her wallet. It hadn't taken long to figure it out; the websites about Key West touted the community as open to alternative lifestyles. She cocked her head and a wealth of brown hair spilled onto her shoulder. "That is... if you still swing that way in Key West. Who knows, maybe you're holding out on me, Purity." She tapped the wallet on the counter contemplatively. "Had any sexual revelations of your own? I admit, my whole deal with Connor was pretty mind-blowing. Full disclosure on what that guy's got going on could stain your cheeks red for a week. But you switching teams? That would take the cake."
Purity actually gawked at Rhiannon for a few seconds before shaking her head slowly and grinning. "I'd say don't hold your breath but now I want to choke you a little." It was said sweetly enough and there was even a raised eyebrow. "I'm very gay, thank you very much." There was a pause as she added, "I think. No revelations so far. I have no idea if I'm with or without someone." The witch gave a mild shrug as if she wasn't worried about it. Whatever the answer, she'd find out soon enough, that much she was sure of.
"Oh, I hope it's a man, just to freak you out." Rhiannon stuffed the wallet in her jeans. "Don't curse me. You know we all deserve a moment of ashen wonder." She backed away from the counter. "Listen, I gotta head out, but text me when you want to get together, or if you find out anything else, 'kay?" A few more wrong-facing steps were taken, just because she didn't want to pull her eyes off her friend. "See ya."
Purity crossed her arms and gave Rhiannon a look that said exactly what she was thinking. "I need someone to practice my spells on." But she was grinning again, unable to keep it up as the Slayer backed away as if grudgingly. "You know I don't need an excuse to talk to you, we'll be texting in an hour or something." As if reassuring her friend she wasn't going to suddenly take for the hills and vanish. "Catch you later." She said softly, watching the door close behind the woman.