WHO: Lyra and Will Stutely WHEN: Tuesday morning WHERE: Will's workshop WHAT: Everything keeps coming up Lyra WARNINGS: Doubt it
Trekking down through Brooklyn before nine in the middle of winter and one of the last shopping days before Christmas shoulda been a nightmare, but it wasn't, not at all. Her bus'd been on time, and she'd got a seat right over the heater cuz someone else had just got off, and sitting there feeling toasty and warm and watching the sleet taper off, Lyra had to wonder again about the whole, y'know, luck thing.
How did you prove luck? Sometimes buses were on time, wasn't anything weird about that. Someone had to get the seat over the heater. It wasn't magical or anything, unless you put it all together. Unless you put it all together and added in everything else... Lyra could follow the string of (lucky?) events that had led her here, on her way to a job she really wanted. She could take it back and back right into childhood if she tried. It'd been luck that lead her to her dad, definitely. And Avery? Maybe?
But also, the whole of human history could probably follow a series of lucky events that led them to where they were, right? And it wasn't like Lyra could possibly say everything in her life had been lucky cuz... fucking look at it all. But she certainly felt lucky, especially with those two guys. She kept thinking about Patrick saying he liked that she was his kid, kept thinking about Avery saying she was glorious. Mix those two feelings up and she felt like she was floating.
One day she was gonna work out a way to test her luck. Really science the shit out of it somehow. One day, but not today. Today the sleet was stopping a few minutes before her bus did (but all rain had to stop eventually) so the only drops she had to dodge between the bus and the workshop were the fat, gross ones collecting on fire escapes and awnings above, which she did, joyously, while leaping puddles.
She arrived early at Will's door (puddle jumping was faster than walking) by about ten enthusiastic minutes, and wondered if she should wait politely but... it was damn cold out, and the sky looked about to break again, and she didn't want to wait a second longer before meeting another Merry Man who was keen to employ her.
So she rapped musically on the door and stepped back, outta the way, hands shoved into her jacket pockets to keep 'em warm.