smallestshrike (smallestshrike) wrote in theunboundic, @ 2020-07-14 13:24:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! time: july 3 - 9, adaline auster, courtenay auster, treasa lawless |
Like a Moth to a Flame
Who: Adaline & OPEN [Court, eventually]
What: A surprise visit
Where: Roaming around Glynn, the Rosier Manor
When: Thursday evening, July 7th
The warm evening breeze felt good against her wings. It seemed an age since Adaline had taken her moth form--at least, in a way that felt liberating rather than a result of desperate panic. But now, here she was, flitting down an ill-lit country road, senses keenly focused on the pockets of light in the distance.
Being in her shifter form always felt like a blessed reprieve. Things were simpler, her tiny insect body finely calibrated for only a few basic functions. Wings beating. Antenna twitching. Always, always, in search of the light.
It was easier, too, not to spiral into dark thoughts. To overthink her decision to come here - to talk herself out of it and pop herself on the next train back to Belailles.
She'd arrived at the station only an hour or so prior. Despite having plenty of time to gather her thoughts on the journey, she found her hands were still shaking when she disembarked the train. Her body hurt, too--a flare, no doubt, from sitting in the same awkward position for eight hours. She'd felt so confident when she originally formulated this plan, so sure that it was the right decision. But now, as the other passengers filtered out of the station, leaving her standing alone on the platform, she felt the familiar clench of anxiety.
What if Courtenay doesn't want you here? He's built a whole life here, without you. Will he really want his socially stunted sister around, getting under his feet?
She should have written. She should have asked first, instead of throwing all her most important possessions into a trunk and fleeing in the middle of the night.
But the days following Carnivale had passed in almost a fugue state. Adaline could scarcely remember what she had done, to whom she had spoken. Avoidance had been high priority - avoidance, and planning her escape.
Well, there was no changing it now. Adaline had waited on the platform for an hour, scuffing the soles of her shoes against the dirty pavers as she waited for the next train to roll in. Evidently her luggage had been assigned to the wrong carriage. She hoped that wasn't an omen, an indication that this escape had been ill-fated from its conception.
As she waited, she had realized she didn't actually know where Courtenay resided. She knew the name of the manor, of course - but how to get there? Glynn was utterly foreign to her. Again, she felt anxiety vibrant through her limbs. Anxiety, but also a little excitement.
This could be an adventure.
When it had become clear she would be waiting for a while ("Next train won't be by til' 'morrow, love") she had closed her eyes, focused on shedding her skin like a garment, button and hook, flesh unlaced til it unraveled entirely, replaced by...
Yes. Freedom. From pain, from fear, from the memory of what had happened in that secluded part of the garden on Carnivale night.
Adaline had taken wing.
Now, she felt the warmth of lights all around her. The darkened pathways had given way to doorways, gas lamps, the vibrations of voices and footfalls from inside buildings. Was she close? No - she imagined the manor must be set apart from the main hustle and bustle of town. Somewhere where the lights were much grander, a beacon in the darkness, calling her close.
Her moth sight was not detailed at a distance. She followed the diffusions of light, flitting doorway to doorway, back to darkened paths, keenly focused on her goal.
And eventually...
Adaline tumbled out of her moth form, stumbling a little as she caught her balance on a nearby hedge. Dusk curled about her, turning the laneway soft, a dappled purple.
She steadied herself, hand grasping for something to steady herself on, finding purchase on a nearby tree. Deep breaths, remember. It's normal to feel woozy. You'll come back to yourself in a bit...
But now what? She had no plan. And wouldn't it be embarrassing, if someone came across her at this very moment...