Sharon Warmoth || Rosette Christopher (thecontractor) wrote in thereincarnates, @ 2011-04-08 23:30:00 |
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Entry tags: | huan zeng, sharon warmoth |
WHO: Huan Zeng and Sharon Warmoth
WHAT: An epic reuniting of well-timing occurs.
WHEN: Backdated to Wednesday, March 30th. 10 AM ish.
WHERE: Central Park, New York City.
WARNINGS: A LOT OF CRYING. AND ANGST. It’s Huan, what else would we expect? And incompletedness shh
Sharon Warmoth would be the first to admit that this day, so far had been insane. It wasn’t even for the usual reasons for her. Any day which had been cleared for more then an hour or two was insane for her. Yet she’d planned on leaving the morning free to do...absolutely nothing. Preposterous for her. Of course, she had things she intended to do. There was a book she’d like to finish. A phone call to make to her cousin, just to stop her aunt from nagging at her. (Which didn’t make sense, as frankly if she was distant shouldn’t she connect with Cassie instead?) Make lunch for her mother and drop it off at her office. Small things, which would take up time but weren’t cemented by any means. It was ridiculous for a girl who barely had a moment free. Yet it wasn’t what made the day insane.
When she’d gone to bed the night before, she’d taken two ibuprofen because of a headache worse then even her depressive time years ago. She wouldn’t have been exaggerating if she claimed her head felt like it was being split open. Waking up, in a groggier state then eight hours of sleep should have given her, and with an additional voice in her head only made the situation worse. Sharon was up in her bed in an instant, head slammed into the wall as the voice began to apologize and explain that she shouldn’t freak out - she was just her reincarnate speaking.
Sharon, of course, wasn’t one to believe in that crap. Because, reincarnation fell under the line of...Buddhism or something. She couldn’t say what, but it didn’t matter. These things didn’t make sense or have any possibility of occurring in the world she lived in. They were never even considered. As the voice (who called herself Rosette Christopher) prattled on about reincarnation being common, having done this before, it only made Sharon more frustrated. She pulled on a track suit, long pants and a jacket that zipped up before heading out. Her cure for being upset by any means was to run. No matter what any girl laughed about in her mind. The subway was taken to Central Park, before Sharon headed for the walking path and beginning to head off. Begging Rosette to shut up only did so much good. Apparently she recognized this as well.
Slowly, after lap after lap, information was eeked out. Rosette was, Sharon granted, a friendly voice in her head. She was willing to share information, easily. Reincarnation was something that happened quite a bit, even if Sharon wasn’t aware of it. (But granted, we try and hide it. Or did. They’ve got a group who’s purpose is just to hide them basically). Last time around, she’d been reincarnated into a guy from the ‘Great War’. (‘Great. Just great. Definitely on my to-wish list, knowing what it’s like to have a dick.’) Who’d died in battle. Whose memories probably would reach Sharon. Just like Rosette’s vaguely were. Sharon unfortunately did have to concede that. They were there, vaguely - just out of reach and hard to distinguish from her own barring the feel. Thinking death sparked two very different memories that nearly caused her to stumble as she ran.
Of course, that didn’t get the insane definition. No. It didn’t end there. Rosette’s summary of her life (Let’s see - I used to be a demon excorcist, with my best friend Chrono. Bit of an obsession and we made a great team because my soul was tied to his. I worked with a local convent, right here in New York City!) didn’t help matters. Nor the wistful tone she kept recalling Chrono. Nor the more melancholic one when she talked about Benoit’s past with a man named Huan. That detail of Benoit didn’t bother Sharon too much - it was more the generalities of this whole thing that ate up at her. Rosette was insistent that this Huan, this man Benoit had loved - and been loved by right before his death - was Chrono reincarnated as well.
And maybe, when your caretaker shows - maybe we could find out if he was. He’d want to know. And I would. Gosh, Sharon, I’m sorry but it’s been such a long time - and if it’s him, I just need to speak with him. He was-
At that of course, Sharon had to cut her off. ‘Your best friend? Honey, you’re acting more like he was your soul mate or something. Some sort of Romeo and Juliet tragedy of doom. Geeze.’ Her steps finally began to slow then, after nearly an hour of the same consistent pace. Her thighs burned and the only clear thought she had was water. She cut off any of Rosette’s attempts to speak - no easy thing for how stubborn and loud the former nun was - until she bought a water bottle at a local stand and returning to the path. Walking as a cool down, Sharon continued the thought.
‘Because honestly? I’d like to remind you that you showed up in my head completely out of the blue. I didn’t ask for this and from what you’re going on about, I’m basically fated to die an early death if you and this Benoit guy is anything to go by?’ She laughed out loud then, not really caring if those that passed her looked at her oddly. Worse, crazier things happened in New York City.
It’s not guaranteed. I just - I’d APPRECIATE it if you did. When your caretaker shows.
‘You’re a little insistent on that. How am I supposed to believe you anyhow? You’re probably just a hallucination. I probably hit my head too hard yesterday or something. I don’t even remember it, this is the side-effect. Or maybe I finally snapped and this is how it’s showing up.’ Furied silence was her answer. It was all Sharon could do not to smirk. There had to be an answer. This didn’t make sense. Even if she had the sneaking suspicion Rosette was just preparing an argument on her end. Sharon took advantage of it to go on, sweeping her eyes across the park. People were being normal, grouped in families - excited to be in New York City - or huddled as they just powered on through. A few people just sat about on benches - books or electronic gadgets that distracted them. Water bottle still in hand, Sharon jogged off towards the nearest one - maybe angled towards it more because the guy fiddling with whatever in his hand was handsome, from what she could see of his face.
‘You know, normal is good. I’d like just a spot of normal now. Rosette, maybe your problem is just because you’re hung up on this guy. Get over him and move on from my head?’ She flopped down on the seat beside the guy, twisting the cap off her bottle. Sharon flashed the guy an apologetic smile - the seat hadn’t been taken and she was making a point to the voice in her head when Rosette finally spoke up, scaring Sharon half to death and sending water flying.
IT’S HIM.