It's a Graves thing (soundofwings) wrote in repose, @ 2016-02-23 14:58:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | *log, atticus mcvickers, muerte graves |
[Atticus & Em: Interviews]
Who: Atticus and Em
What: A job interview!
Where: The B&B
When: Nowish? Recently?
Warnings/Rating: Probably nothing.
Looking for a job was a new and strange and not entirely pleasant way to pass the time. Em didn't know what she was doing, even though she'd seen it an uncountable number of times. It was (as everything, she was learning) completely different when you were the one doing it. And, to be honest, it scared her a little. She still had no idea what was going on with her existence, and stepping into new things all the time got to be a little unsettling. But she knew she couldn't go back. And she couldn't ignore life anymore.
And wasn't that what she'd been doing? The change had knocked her feet out from under her and left her feeling like something was missing. She'd hidden away in her brother's house, only waking to paint visions of the past. It had unmoored her enough that she hadn't seen the truth of it. And the truth was that it was all in her perspective. Maybe she'd lost something, but she'd been ignoring what she'd gained. Life. The ability to touch and be touched and even be injured - they were all things she hadn't had for centuries, things that humans took for granted, and she'd ignored it all in favor of hiding herself away. She'd been treating it like a curse when she could have been seeing it as a boon. And if she was going to do anything at all, she needed to remember who she'd once been and combine it with who (with what) she was now.
And so! The job! The day and time of her meeting with the owner of the Bed and Breakfast rolled around, and found her standing outside on the front walk, looking at the building. She liked it, the character of it, the life she felt lingering inside. (And that was one of the ironies of life, too - the fact that as soon as she finally got kicked into starting to accept her humanity, those hints of her otherliness began creeping back in. She didn't know what it meant, but she was going to do her best to muddle through it.) She'd woken up with very little problem (the pull of an appointment and the vibrating trill of her phone doing their combined duty), showered and braided her hair back out of its usual cloud, two plaits - one curving along each side of her head, and picked out clothes that she thought might fit the job of digging through boxes (but that were still nice enough to pass initial inspection) - black jeans, ankle-high boots, and a button-up shirt under her usual leather jacket. The shirt was a deep emerald and managed to not be wrinkled even without the help of an iron, and while she maybe rolled her eyes a little at herself, the color did something to bolster her courage. If she could still be someone Eddie talked to about things like Sasha marrying a voodoo god, then he could provide some signature color to her life when she needed to be brave.
It maybe took a few minutes longer than it should have for her to climb the few stairs and push her way through the front door, head poking through first and then the rest of her slipping inside and closing the heavy wood behind her. There was an initial rush of curiosity around her, invisible but almost tangible, as the B&B's less corporeal residents inspected her. And if they weren't exactly friendly, they at least found her acceptable, because the pressure of their attention eased again after the warm greeting of her thoughts. With them gone (or at least watching from slightly less noticeable corners), she looked around herself and made her way to the front desk.