Reality Crisis

Mag took a breath.

Things had all come crashing down in her in one moment. Carlos had come to put a protection spell on her door, with the exception of letting her friend Shiloh into her apartment. Then they had talked about the rules: no verbal greetings, don't take in strangers...and then there was the talk about the dreams. Dream? More like a vision. An insight into the future. How long it was into the future she wasn't sure but it seemed not to sit very well with Carlos. She wasn't fond of the idea of war either, especially when the fight was potentially against the city she was currently living in.

It was frightening.

She was glad for Shiloh's company. The dog always knew how to keep Mag calm. She reveled in the presence of the canine more than most people would. Shiloh didn't care about war, or strange visions. He wasn't concerned about the lives of people or the city itself. At least Mag hoped the dog had different things on his mind other than people problems.

He was a great friend and companion. She had gotten lucky when she found her dog friend. Mag hoped Carlos wouldn't try to leave Shiloh behind when, or if, they decided to leave the city. She couldn't be without her furry friend, unless Shiloh just didn't want to leave.

She didn't want to consider that anymore.

Getting to her feet, Mag stretched and looked over n the direction of the apartment where her furry canine friend was laying, offering the dog a smile. "C'mon boy. Lets go outside and play. We could use some sunshine. What do you say?" All she could do was hope the dog was eager enough about leaving the apartment as she was.

It was a perfect day. Why not enjoy it?

The dog had been in search of something. He'd been out looking for the man he'd smelled on Magdelene, and the next thing he knew he was curled up freezing his lily white ass off. Sam, at first, was almost unwilling to shift back to his most comfortable animal form, especially after waking up naked in the chilly air.

He could have made a two legged run for it, but he opted for the warmer yet strangely uncomfortable collie. The memories of a very disturbing dream were still with him, and he was somewhat concerned with getting lost in the animal form. He didn't think it could ever happen, but there it was, a memory of a dream in his head.

Sam heard the arguing, a rumble of something not far off, and he made his way over to he seemingly abandoned store to make sure everyone was okay. By the time he got there, he was greeted by something he didn't want to see. He watched in a nonpervy way to make sure that what was happening was a mutual situation, and when he realized they were in agreement on the whole, he trotted off to get back into the building. He needed warmth, and maybe some clothes.

Unfortunately, as a dog, he couldn't get into the lobby without help, so he found a spot near the door and settled down to wait. He didn't have to wait too long. He wasn't expecting one half of the angry sex party to show up, but he was on all fours when she got near. His ears dipped a little as if in question, and a hint of tail wag to show thanks.

Bane slept.

He had not expected to sleep, as it was not his scheduled time to do so. He could only be grateful that he'd passed out within his own quarters in Sanctuary and not somewhere outside the walls.

While he slept, he dreamed. The images before his eyes in slumber were oddly vivid. Bane was a lucid dreamer, capable of controlling what he saw, and experiencing dreams in full color, sound, and feeling, but this was a step beyond even that. Though he experienced every sense clearly, he could control none of it.

He stood in deep snow somewhere outside the gates of Sanctuary. He knew that there were more people within that place than there ever had been before, but could not call up the reasons why or when it had happened. He knew only that he took these trips outside the wall more and more often for the solitude it allowed him. He had the vague sense of not participating in something quite significant, and the nagging feeling that his sitting out hadn't gone over so well with somebody. Perhaps more than one somebody.

Over his shoulder was a bag, within the bag, bundles of a plant. Nothing that he could identify from his many books and studies. Something of this planet. He had a lot of it. The bundles filled the bag so completely that bits stuck out the top of it. He felt protective over the plants he carried, like they were detrimental to his life. Like he might kill anybody who tried to take them from him. He felt that he had secret stashes of them hidden here and there in the fairy forest, and that when spring came, he would have hidden crops. But he had no idea what use they would be to him.

On the ground in front of him lay a dead deer. There was rope tangled about its legs and another around its neck. The neck itself was slashed and bleeding, and he held a bloody knife in his hand.

Bane carefully released the animal from the ropes and reset the trap. He hefted the carcass over one shoulder easily, and turned to trudge back through his own footsteps to return to Sanctuary. He couldn't just cart this thing around forever, unfortunately. And he couldn't leave it out here and come back to it later.

The blind woman had been nice, but Sam couldn't stay with her. He had quickly found a way to leave her side; thankfully he had also found a way to get warmer clothes because while he was a shifter running at a higher temp than a normal human, he still could get frostbite on his bare ass if he wasn't careful. He didn't go back for his clothes, not yet. Instead he "borrowed" some from what looked to be a laundry.

Wrapped in warm clothes, followed quickly by a pair of boots, the shifter was able to step out into this new world with a little more confidence in his human shape. He got a few looks, but no one seemed to be paying attention. It felt wrong, smelled wrong. This wasn't where he should be, and it wasn't just the cold in the air. Louisiana never got this cold, not in a way that the cold lingered in the air and became a part of everything.

He couldn't help the sniffing. It wasn't too obvious, but now and then, he'd have to stop and get a good whiff. The people smelled different, too. It wasn't rot, but the potential for rot that bothered him. They were on the verge of death or had danced with it all too closely. He could smell it; it wasn't sickness, not exactly. He'd never been around a group of malnourished, but he would suppose that this was how they'd smell. They had the look to them, and it was a look he wanted to fix. Spending time around Sookie and becoming more a part of the Bon Temps community, Sam was discovering more and more that he wanted to help...damn them.

Sam didn't know whose clothes he was wearing, but the scent lingered a little, even after laundering. At least some of it. There had been more than one person wearing the shirt at least. He didn't think that anyone would recognize the shirt as he sat in the lobby of the blind woman's building. It was just a shirt, right? He had only come back because after walking around the small city, this was the only place knew, sort of. He didn't have any attachment, but he had to do something.

Trying to find an actual occupation in a world that held about nothing at all save for a handful of people was quite difficult, especially considering the obvious heirarchy of those called the Chosen over the actual city-born, those that were there both before and after whatever happened to this world to make it the way it currently was. Mag wasn't one to judge the world, or worlds, of anyone else considering this one, as broken as it was, was much better than the one she had come from, despite not being established in this city the way she would like to be. With that said, Mag kept her spirits high and took to the streets of die Festung, searching for anything that needed her attention, because she wasn't going to allow herself to just sit back and wait for something to happen, nor was she the type that would let things just come to her in good time. She was eager, and willing to help, should anyone city born be able to see past her Chosen status and welcome her assistance.

Despite the weather conditions, Mag bundled herself up as best as she could and left her apartment each day to tackle the things that lay ahead for her in the city, caring only of the people that lived, worked and survived around her, not asking for anything at all from them in return, though they seemed so willing and ready to give should she only open her lips and ask. She stumbled upon a small, hole in the wall sort of cafe, which could not have been a better term for it considering it literally had an entrance that seemed to be a large gaping hole, though somehow a prosperous citizen had transformed it into some make-shift diner where patrons of all types, city-born as well as the revered Chosen could come, sit and dine with each other should they choose to venture in that part of the city. Mag, of course, had dared, and that was how she ended up there, day after day. Upon first arrival, a small step over a crumbling brick ledge, Mag found herself inside of this cafe of sorts, a scattered few settled amongst the small tables that had been dragged in from various parts of the city itself, and though the building had a roof over it, flakes of snow had managed to slither inside and had begun to pile up in one corner closest to the entrance, as well as upon one of the tables in the establishment. The furniture was random, as were the assortment of patrons, those that dined on plates filled with the city's mystery meat, or scraps of granola bars, their bodies settled in various types of chairs that included a small childs school chair, a pink plastic hard backed chair that had a hole singed in the neon back, a few kitchen chairs that may have been dragged from an apartment, a recliner of sorts and a bean bag.

Not all of the seats were spoken for, but a few of them had residents, and all of the patrons had seemed to be in groups, save for one older gentleman, one whom seemed more feeble than the rest, whom was settled in the bean bag that had been absently plopped next to a lowered coffee table upon which the man was currently dining. Mag spotted him instantly, him seeming to be the lonliest looking man she had ever laid her electric blue eyes upon, and she didn't hesitate to approach him.

Every day, it was the same thing, Mag appeared in this cafe, sat with the old man, and they talked. At first the initial engagement hadn't been so simple, she was a stranger and a Chosen citizen of this city, and yet there seemed a need in both of them for a friend. He took to her almost immediately after deciding that she wasn't going to hurt him, and something between them blossomed. In good time, it was like Mag had always known this man, he was simple and kind, and still so in love with the woman that he had lost to whatever had happened to this city.

"You know, Magdelene, my Rosie would've liked you.." Maurice, the older man, often said to her, in the kindest of ways, causing her eyes to light up and her cheeks to flush, no matter how many times he told her. She wanted to meet his love, his Rosie, but she was deceased and Mag could tell that he missed her deeply. They had been married for over fifty years, and had lived in this city together with their small family until the things here occurred, which caused Maurice to lose everyone except himself. He didn't know anything about what had happened, only that things were different as far as life went in the city after that. Things had gotten rough, and hopeless, like the times he had had as a boy back in the country he was from before relocating to this city, which had once been prosperous.

Over the course of what seemed to stretch it's way into two weeks, a day at a time, Maurice had grown to adore the mysterious woman with the even more intriguing eyes, offering her a scrap of an old photograph of himself and his Rosie, the woman he loved with every fiber in his whole body, and Mag accepted it from him. She was beautiful, this woman, and seemed to be so strong, and yet she had abandoned the man she loved for worlds unknown. It was almost too sad to bear.

That was how she ended up at the cemetary, one without a name, just something the citizens here had erected in honor of those that they loved which had passed. That was one thing this world and Mag's own had in common, they buried their dead, though in Mag's world, it was a privledge to be buried. Most of the people that died did so because they couldn't pay, and it was to the pit with their corpses. No, this was something much simpler, more beautiful, and the snow only seemed to enhance it. Maurice had brought her the first time, to show her where Rosie lay, one of the small, unmarked bumps in the ground that he had been to visit every day since her passing. Mag found that to be completely remarkable, how dedicated he was to come back day after day, but what else could you do at such an age? To be with someone for so long and lose them, only to spend your days yearning for them? It was so sad, yet so beautiful. People often took love for granted, and of course there were people like she herself that had never known a true love like that of Maurice and Rosie.

She stood there, in the snow, infront of the bump that Maurice had insisted held the woman he loved, holding their scrap of a picture in her cold, pale fingers. She came every day to say hello to Rosie, with or without her friend Maurice, caught up in the fairytale of their seemingly perfect but tragic story. It was almost too much, and yet she found that if she didn't come to see Rosie, part of her felt empty. She was compelled to visit, to stay and talk, and to try to know the woman in the ground, the one who's lover missed her so dearly.

It was almost like a story, and Mag was reading carefully through every page, though the pages seemed stained in blood.

She sighed, the warm air of her breath colliding with the cold air that surrounded her, trying to push her back into the warm sanctuary of her apartment, but she didn't move. She lingered on, holding that picture in her fingers, hoping one day to really, truly understand what made the human heart so naive, and yet so perfect.

Especially in such a world as this.