graveflowers: (Ω on phone.)
[personal profile] graveflowers
[ a few days post doppelsplosion 2014 and myri & finnick's announcement, a metric shit tonne of people gets a text. also luthir's friends probably, but idk does he even text??? SHOULDN'T SHE KNOW THESE THINGS ABOUT HER FIANCÉ. w/e he can deal with that shit. ]


[ to myri, finnick, felicity, gar, dawn, archer, elena, ric, buffy, spike, aedan, alex, mark, des, francesca, rose. (and dumage even though they're not friends she is part of the team, so fucking dwi.) ]

so i am getting knighted. also married. so, you know. you can't get out of going. sorry. bring a plus one, it'll be swell. surprise?


[ to rafael ]

the wedding thing, it's happening. bring isabella and your hair.
graveflowers: (Ω on phone.)
[personal profile] graveflowers
[ sometime between myri leaving and the party in new york, vi rings up myri, using the world clock on her phone to make sure it's not too late.

ring ring ring, bananaphone. ]
graveflowers: (Ω grin.)
[personal profile] graveflowers
[Sometime between her night with Luthir and the funeral -- maybe she is still in bed, maybe she is at the church, maybe she is just sitting eating her cereal, who knows, use your imagination -- her two closest friends at the castle get the following, very different, text messages:]

text to charming
Is there a less high school word for boyfriend that isn't... manfriend?


text to felicity
ADFGHJKLLOJH. I caught my great white whale!!
graveflowers: (Ω on phone.)
[personal profile] graveflowers
[She doesn't actually know if he uses the phone, poor old fashioned dear, but she is exhausted and dehydrated because she is somehow still crying and, to be perfectly honest, she is terrified of falling asleep. She has nothing left to stop her from giving it a shot.

She needs it, and she was so focused on what everyone else needed -- what Jade needed and Rafael and Des and Myri -- that she pushed it aside because she felt bad that she can't figure out how to get this comfort from anyone here and because death is what she is good at so she let herself take over to save anyone else having to do it.

But now it's settled on her shoulders, the reminder that she has no idea what she is doing in this case and she needs help. His help, specifically, because as much as he flusters her and makes her stomach riot with butterflies, he calms her down and centers her, balancing her when she feels off-kilter and confused. And she would really love to be calm, for at least a moment.

So she curls up in on of the chairs in the waiting room, tugging her feet up on to the seat. She dials and listens to it ring and really hopes he is around to talk to her. She twists her wrist to glance at her watch, it is really early or middle of the night there -- dyslexia is not exclusive to letters, sadly, and she doesn't have a digital watch -- but she... doesn't actually care.]
Page generated Jun. 10th, 2025 07:28 am