marlene, the judgiest hufflepuff. (mckins) wrote in reoccurrence, @ 2020-07-11 16:12:00 |
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Entry tags: | bones amelia, mckinnon marlene |
(W H O) Marlene & Amelia
(W H E R E) RRC: Ash room
(W H E N) [backdated] Sunday, 5 July
(W H A T) Reunion.
“Back already, are you?” The receptionist at the RRC was a chipper young woman. It was simultaneously comforting and annoying. Marlene’s opinion of her existed only in dualities: comforting and annoying, envy and detest. She couldn’t properly remember when the list time it was she had any cause to be chipper, genuinely so at any rate. She had faked it often, adjusting the position of her body to the comfort of her male colleagues. Genuinely felt happy enough to be so? Had Marlene ever felt such a thing? She couldn’t recall. There was just a mask, a fake smile to put people at ease and whisky-soaked amusement. Both of those things were hard to come by any more. It didn’t seem to make any sense for Marlene to even try to be anything but what she genuinely felt: Angry. “Aye,” she answered shortly. “Missed the beige, y’know.” Marlene signed her name into the visitors registration, putting a dash through the declaration’s box. She hadn’t thought to bring anything, wanting to avoid at all costs being any sort of obvious about why she was there or for who. There had even been a debate as to whether she should be here at all, whether she should maybe wait for Amelia to be out of the centre before seeing her. Denying Amelia’s request was not on the list of things she could do. She’d already not listened to her when it came to the truly important things. Could she deny her now that they’d both died? Still, habits died hard. She hesitated for a moment over the box under “Reason for Visit.” Should she write a healer’s name? What was MacDougal’s name again? Would it come back around and make it harder for her to have lied so egregiously on something so stupidly easy to verify? Marlene decided it would, in fact, make her life harder. Her decisions almost reliably did exactly that. So she wrote “Amelia Bones” in that box. She could feel the shot of adrenaline hit her system, and that strange metallic taste at the back of her mouth as she set the pen down and walked toward the security checkpoint. So many years keeping the fact that they knew each other at all from nearly everyone they knew and she’d just put it down on paper for everyone, and the ministry, to see. “Bloody bairn.” She muttered to herself as she patted down her pockets. Nothing but an (empty) wallet and her wand. She hadn’t managed to dress herself in anything fancier than a plain white shirt, jeans, and a decent pair of boots she’d mercifully found at salvage. She hadn’t really bothered taking more than a handful from the family’s vault. It felt wrong. What she had, for the moment, would do. The guard looked her over, the looks of distain between them equal. He’d been one of the luck names on the list of people she’d thrown a punch to during her stay here. Against healer’s advice, she hadn’t apologized. She stepped past him, never the less, and immediately felt the lurch in her stomach as she walked through the halls — familiar and strange at the same time. She’d hoped to never set foot in them again. She walked straight past the visitor’s room (one she was quite fine with never having set foot in) and went straight for the Ash room, hoping that her absence of a few days was short enough to not earn her any notice as a fixture of the facility. She knocked softly on the door before ducking into the room and leaning back against the door to shut it quickly. What she truly, and thoroughly, had never expected was the absolute punch to the gut seeing Amelia there was. Chills ran through her skin, the pale cream turning to gooseflesh instantly. It felt as if it had truly only been a few weeks since she’d last seen Amelia, but there she was with all the years between them written across her beautiful face. Without any invitation or permission, tears begun to sting her eyes as she took a few cautions steps forward. |