A Memory
January 16, 2021 3:53 PM
A Little Less Frightening by A Memory
OOC: CW: death, illness BIC:
Libraries were funny places because they were generally divided into sections based on topic or subject, but then . . . real life topics and subjects were rarely so neatly divided. At a table conveniently located as close as was possible to books on healing from the potions section, books on healing from the career and education section, German language books, and the romance novel section (although most people probably wouldn't have known that this table happened to be so conveniently located, because why would anyone need to know such a thing?), a very odd thing. While most of the library's visitors, and indeed the most recent visitor to this particular table, sat in chairs or stood in lingering groups of excited whisperers, the person at this table was laying on top of the surface as if it were a bed. Silvery and vaguely transparent, the old woman even had a blanket pulled up to her chest, and the top of a ruffly nightgown was visible around her neck.
Even pale as she was now, it was clear that her eyes were watery and faded, illness and age having long since leeched their vibrancy. Still, they peered upwards as if someone stood over the old woman, and a fond smile brightened her face. One of her shaky, frail hands reached up and brushed the hair out of an unseen figure's face before it was returned to her side with the unseen figure's help. When she opened her mouth to speak, it came out in quiet German.
"You'll make a good healer, just like your parents," she promised as if she'd never been so sure of anything. A pause lingered as she listened to the response and then she chuckled, a soft, dry sound bubbling happily from her mouth. "Being a good healer doesn't mean you can stop everyone from dying. Death comes for us all when it's time. Being a healer means making it a little less frightening and a little less painful to live until then. You've done a very good job of that."
With a satisfied smile, the old woman closed her eyes and took a shaky breath. The rise and fall of her chest was slow and laborious, but with her eyes closed she still looked like she was sleeping. When her breathing stopped, the smile and her words still lingered.
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A Memory
A Little Less Frightening
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Tarquin Fox-Reynolds
January 18, 2021 4:13 PM
Quite frightening enough, thank you by Tarquin Fox-Reynolds
Tarquin did a double take and nearly dropped what he was holding (thankfully a book, not a cup of tea, and thankfully he managed to just catch it anyway) as a figure appeared on the table beside him. Yes, he was aware of the mist thing going around, but he had to say it was quite startling nonetheless when it suddenly appeared to you in person. Especially when that person was prone on one of your library tables, where she definitely ought not to be, and looking decidedly unwell.She was muttering, either angrily or just in German. He found it hard to differentiate, although he had to say her expression looked more happy than not. And then she closed her eyes, and something about the utter stillness suggested she was not merely sleeping.
As the figure began to dissolve, he remembered the instructions they’d been given. He swished his wand collecting the misty remains (and trying not to think about how literally true that might be) into a vial, and wondering what to do with them. The last thing Selina needed right now was to hear that… omens, or whatever these were of the sick and dying were haunting the building. That was going to hit a little too close to home.
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Tarquin Fox-Reynolds
Quite frightening enough, thank you
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