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Tweak says, "touch grass"

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Cora Hale ([info]animosity) wrote in [info]portland_logs,
@ 2014-11-25 16:47:00
Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Who: Freya and Ryan, later Marissa
Where: The Grotto and then The OC house
When: Nowish
What: Freya makes "friends"
Status: Ongoing
Warnings: Self injury, blood, violence. Will update if anything else



Freya liked to wander places like The Grotto. Roiling streams and grass as far as the eye could see. She liked the flowers and she didn't care what the rules were, picking one if it suited her. She twirled it around between her thumb and her forefinger as she hummed a little song underneath her breath. A little tune that had stuck with her from a long way back when her mother would rock her to sleep at night. Being human was another lifetime but Freya still remembered that little girl because she still was that little girl. The apple of her father's eye, her mother's heart, her brother's twin.

There were many people in The Grotto despite the fact that it was getting dark out and long shadows stretched out in the path. She stopped by the monastery and stopped for a moment as she watched a young man talking to one of the monks. Did monks talk? Were monks allowed to talk? Freya would remember to look that up and come back if she found he was breaking any sacred holy vows. For the moment, the monk interested her little and the man interested her a lot. He wasn't very tall but he was broad to make up for it but in a good way. He was muscular and Freya liked muscles. She liked to rub her hands along them, feel the sweat of skin beneath her palm before her nails would dig beneath the skin, diving into that muscle, feeling it's sinewy tenderness crushed in her powerful hand.

Not that she did that. Okay, she did but only twice on Thursdays and only since 1951. She had her reasons.

Lucky for Ryan it wasn't Thursday and Freya clung to the darkness like moody nightshade as she listened to the conversation. It was pretty bland frankly. They were talking about some architectural deal, building plans, time estimates, blah blah blah. The two talked for what seemed like forever to the very bored Freya but she was good at sticking to the night, remaining quiet and unseen until the moment was right. She was still standing nearby when Ryan wrapped up his conversation and called his girlfriend. She followed behind him a little bit, listening to their conversation.

"Okay. Well, hurry home!" His girlfriend exclaimed. "I ordered pizza."

Freya's lips repeated the words silently, traversing those verbal continents with graceful fluidity. She raced off into the night, easily beating him to the end of the path which culminated in more darkness and forestry before the elevator. That was the spot she chose and knowing he couldn't deny her she gnawed on her fingernails.

She thought about a little girl clinging to her auntie's skirt, asking her what they were going to do. She trusted her auntie, loved her auntie, never thought her auntie would do her harm. And then auntie told her they had to play a game and this game was the longest game Freya ever played. The blade sliced through her like butter and her blood dripped to the floor slowly with little pitter patter noises, like a metronome set to the beat of insanity.

She chewed on her fingernails until they were edged and jagged and then she used those torn nails to cut deeply into her own skin. She cried out in the darkness as her nails punctured the skin, bringing bright red beads of blood to the surface quickly. She would heal quickly too which meant she had to hurry. She could already hear him rapidly approaching, drawn to the sound of her cries.

She ran her bloodied fingers through her hair and pulled it over her face as she cradled her legs in both arms and rocked back and forth, crying loudly. She had enough blood on her to freak him out and make him think she was hurt and bleeding, at first.


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