Christine Canigula (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
madgiganticfeelings) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
itscurtains2020-07-25 05:44 pm
madgiganticfeelings) wrote in itscurtains2020-07-25 05:44 pm
Love's no good but it sure beats the hurt
[That was... Christine can only call it the most horrible thing she's seen so far, with that familiar dread that says something worse may come. Four people have died. Four friends Christine had trusted in and relied upon. And four more people she cares about have turned into memories and painful reminders of her failure to do anything meaningful here.
And Christine wallows in that. God, does she wallow. But she also knows that those painful ghosts of the people she loved relied on her to keep getting back up when the world knocked her down. And she has to keep going, if only to honour there memories.
The note she slides under each person's door is very simple, the bright orange gel pen somehow seeming duller in the wake of mourning:]
Food is in the dining hall.
Please come have something, or I'll track you down in an hour and force feed you.
If there's anything at all you need, please come talk to me. We shouldn't have to suffer alone.
-Christine
[There's a few dishes Christine knows how to make: lo mein and beef stew, some simple sandwiches as well. There are almond cookies after the more filling foods are prepared.
Off to the side is a plate with a few dumplings and... what looks like mashed turnips? An odd combination, but they were Angus' favourite.
And Christine is true to her word. If you don't come in an hour, she'll find you. In fact, she makes rounds around the opera house pretty much every hour, checking each room, and... maybe singing softly to herself as she goes.]
O god,
I can't stay, I won't stay for things left unseen
I can't stay, I won't stay, this end has no means
I can't stay, I won't stay, you were just a dream
A sweet sweet dream
You were a dream
But not my dream...
[Speaking of dreams, someone should convince her to go to bed.]
And Christine wallows in that. God, does she wallow. But she also knows that those painful ghosts of the people she loved relied on her to keep getting back up when the world knocked her down. And she has to keep going, if only to honour there memories.
The note she slides under each person's door is very simple, the bright orange gel pen somehow seeming duller in the wake of mourning:]
Food is in the dining hall.
Please come have something, or I'll track you down in an hour and force feed you.
If there's anything at all you need, please come talk to me. We shouldn't have to suffer alone.
-Christine
[There's a few dishes Christine knows how to make: lo mein and beef stew, some simple sandwiches as well. There are almond cookies after the more filling foods are prepared.
Off to the side is a plate with a few dumplings and... what looks like mashed turnips? An odd combination, but they were Angus' favourite.
And Christine is true to her word. If you don't come in an hour, she'll find you. In fact, she makes rounds around the opera house pretty much every hour, checking each room, and... maybe singing softly to herself as she goes.]
O god,
I can't stay, I won't stay for things left unseen
I can't stay, I won't stay, this end has no means
I can't stay, I won't stay, you were just a dream
A sweet sweet dream
You were a dream
But not my dream...
[Speaking of dreams, someone should convince her to go to bed.]
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[Remembering everyone who died- even if you saved them in the end. Is it worth it?]
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I'm... used to it.
[ OOF. ]
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...Claudine asked me to look after you. I don't think she knew everything, but- I think she knew you needed help.
[And he'll be damned if he doesn't give it. He sort of...pats her hand, he can't squeeze it, but. He can say that he's there as much as he does with his next words, which come out without hesitation-]
Lay your burdens on me
I can bear all the weight of the world with you on my shoulders
no subject
Clau-chan... asked that?
[ She's quiet again as the singing sinks in, the meaning of the words Stephen is saying. Someone offering to help, someone basically saying she doesn't need to do all this alone.
It reminds her of Junna.
She's near whisper singing the next words that come out of her, like they're more to herself than anything, ]
Never dreamed... out in the world...
There are arms to hold you...
You've always known,
Your heart was on its own...
[ But maybe, just maybe, it doesn't have to be. It doesn't have to be on its own.
Carefully she leans over and, mindful of Stephen's bad arm (which. I hope is on the other side because i can't keep track of shit) rests lightly against him.
Okay. You win. She'll lay some of her burdens on you. A little bit anyway. ]
no subject
[actually both his arms are hecked up, BOY ISN'T THAT FUN. but the majority of the damage is on his forearms; his upper arms may have needed a bandaid or two, but they're certainly able to be leaned on without hurting him. We're not going to go too much in to specifics as to how he's able to dress himself, but he may or may not be wearing a poncho right now.
That's not important, though. What's important is that he's raising an arm to kind of hold Nana against him as best he can.]
As much as you'll let me, Nana. I'll help.