Rosario Ortiz (reluciente) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2022-01-21 21:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | merlin, rosario ortiz |
WHO Rosario and Merlin
WHEN Friday 7 January, afternoon
WHERE Merlin’s place
WHAT Time to go to school
WARNINGS Unlikely
Rosario hadn’t seen anything since last Thursday. Well, Saturday if you counted that disorienting flash of a vision she’d shared when Merlin had touched her temple. There were still the dreams… but that was probably just the stress. Roiling skies full of twisting snakes and giants and beasts, a galaxy in a bottle, forked tongues lashing her ears, acrid fumes burning down her throat; Estella in the moonlight, mouth moving but voice inaudible— anxiety dream shit, right? A confused mess of stuff she’d seen and stuff she’d read put through a blender with a generous splash of existential terror. Yeah, definitely the stress. Though it would’ve helped to know for sure. Meditation wasn’t helping. Rosario was pretty sure she wasn’t doing it right. There had to be some kinda technique to it she wasn’t getting, some trick she was missing. (Most of her attempts went more or less thusly: Clear your mind of thoughts, inhale for a count of four, hold—stop thinking about school!!—exhale for a count of four, hold, inhale for a count of four—clear your goddamn mind, don’t think about how long this is taking!—hold, exhale for—don’t think about fucking Apollo!! Repeat, ad nauseam, until you’ve given yourself a headache.) But that didn’t matter because today, today Rosario was getting some real instruction. She wasn’t dumb; obviously she didn’t expect to get this whole premonition deal under control in a single class, but it was a first step. It was the difference between plugging your symptoms into WebMD and going to a doctor for a professional diagnosis: Merlin was an expert. He knew the rules, and he’d promised to teach them to her. Armoured in the star-speckled denim jacket Lyra had given her for Christmas, with a crisp fresh notebook tucked securely in her bag, Rosario stepped up to Merlin’s front door. After a momentary (irrational!) hitch of hesitation, she seized hold of the knocker and rapped briskly. |