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@drawnoutfaith
"Well that’s what I ‘m here for." Lina gives a small smile before motioning toward the seat across from her own. "Before we get started, may I ask what your name is?"
The petite woman sat on the chair, appearing more feeble than she was. "Yes, of course," Hope nodded almost a bit too formally. "Hope Macoy Guevarra." She slips out one of her business cards and hands it to the other woman.
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3am thoughts and creativeness(for me)
Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.
Joey’s brief concern shows in the furrowing of her brow as she looks at the girl. Generally, she’s not that much of an emotional person; her emotions exist, but she isn’t swallowed up by them. However, she’s still very and easily concerned for other people, especially ones she just met. Must be some sort of hero complex. She expects Hope’s question and nods, giving the girl a small smile to let her know that asking was perfectly fine with her. Joey had never been a closed off person about too many things, and her quadriplegia was one of the topics she approached easily. If she let it get to her too much, she’d turn bitter, so it helped to talk. Of course, I don’t mind. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and lightens her tone, There was a, um, Rogue who broke into my workplace - I work at PROTECT - and he, ah, well - Joey rolls some tension out of her shoulders and her wheelchair squeaks at the movement, accentuating the brief moment of silence before her words, - shot me. It's become a lot easier to say it just by saying it to others, really. Uh, I don't have any feeling or function in my, um, legs now. Joey rubs her nose to relieve her body of the tension that she's feeling.
Don't be. [Hope shook her head.] It wasn't your fault. [She smiled a hopeful smile.] Besides-- I feel like I'm getting really close to finding her. [The young woman's eyes widened at the others explanation. She didn't get involved much with the factions. She knew it was dangerous-- but it wasn't everyday she was reminded just how dangerous it was.] What did he want from your workplace? [It really wasn't her business. It was likely that this was classified information but she couldn't stop herself from asking. She was too curious not to. Hope didn't press further about Joey's condition, though. The PROTECT employee clearly wasn't very comfortable about the topic.]
you don’t know me, still don’t know me
She shrugs, Well, some anchors rust, and mine did. No harm done. Joey tilts her head in curiosity, What'd your mom teach you, if you don't mind me asking? She has to remind herself to not be blunt since, well, not everyone is as open as she is about almost everything. Joey catches the girl eyeing her wheelchair and smiles lightheartedly, saying jokingly, Feel free to gaze all you want. She gets it. People stare. She would, too, honestly. There's so much to tell just from seeing a person with a disability... What happened would be the first question in her mind, and thinking about that brings her down. She subtly shakes herself out of it and grins at the girl, That's a gorgeous name. It's pleasure to meet you, Hope.
[Hope smiled subtley. Truly, no one in the world was as friendly as Americans. How easy it was for them to boldly share about their life often surprised her-- but she had learned to adjust.] My ma taught me tricks with rubber bands. It's one of the few things that remind me of her. She disappeared when I was younger. [She bit her lip to stop herself from frowning.] I'm sorry-- it's just-- is it okay if I ask what happened? [The young woman wasn't sure if the topic was off limits so she smiled wryly at the blonde woman.] The pleasure's mine, I'm sure.
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Joey chuckles and winks at the girl, Nah, you're good, my friend. Just a slip of the hand, I get it. She smiles, That's cool. Kinda like your own little anchor, right? I used to have those - like wristbands up to my elbows when I was in my teens and twenties. Joey shrugs, Got too old for them. With little thought, she picks up her tablet, slides it into the handy pocket sleeve thing she has on the back of her wheelchair, and rolls herself over to the girl's table with a wide smile. Casually, she holds out a fist for bumping, I'm Joey.
Kind of like those, I guess. Except I don't think I'd ever grow out of having these around. They're one a few things that remind me of what my mom taught me. [She tried not to appear too curious when Joey rolled her wheelchair over. Hope stared a second too long at the wheelchair before she looked back up at Joey, grinned and gave the woman a fist bump. It was unusual to her, but Hope understood that it was a gesture of friendship] Nice to meet you. I'm Hope.
"Don’t worry, everyone makes mistakes and no one sees that more than I do. Luckily you are in the right place, so how can I help you?"
"Hi, no," Hope reluctantly greeted before denying that a mistake was the reason of why she approached an attorney. "I was just wondering if you could give me legal advice on my case?" She takes a careful look around the office. "Do you mind if I take a seat?" She motions to the chair in front of the lawyer's desk.
Ah, I'm afraid not, she jokingly exclaims, pretending to clutch her cheek, You've caught me in my Achilles' heel! I'm so wounded I'm afraid I might not survive to see tomorrow. Joey chuckles, grinning widely, and shakes her head, Nah, I'm fine. You're alright, friend. She points at the rubber bands on the girl's wrist, Got quite the collection there, huh?
[For a second, Hope worried but then she quickly realized the woman was merely joking. Except she doesn't exactly know how to react to the joke but to laugh.] You got me worried for a second there. [Her feeble smile grew when the blonde woman asked about her rubber bands.] I've been collecting these since I was a kid. Playing with them, or simply looking at them comforts me. Is that weird?
Losing Faith || Closed
Hope Guevarra once thought that there were different kinds of truths. She believed the existence of a Triune God to be true. She was aware that there were multiple people in the world that weren’t lucky enough to be given the faith in Him as it was graced in her. There was not a single moment she doubted of His existence. Not until she doubted everything in her life.
The cheerful, hopeful little lady had set off to a foreign country, to a strange city, to find her mother. And find her mother she did. In her head, it was a happy occasion. In her head, her mother had a reasonable excuse of why she just disappeared off the face of the earth. In her head, there was hope because that was what her mother had taught her. But reality woke her up from her daydreams that one day when she saw the face of her mother again.
Hope finally had the address of her mother, after more than a year of searching. She could finally go home to her father and reunite her parents. She didn’t waste a second, and practically flew over to the humble home in the suburbs. She wasn’t even a little bit nervous, but every bit excited. She would do her mother proud with who she turned out to be.
She was standing outside the picket fence, looking in. A girl with dark hair and blue eyes walked into the gate, giving Hope a strange look. By the looks of it, she was around the age of sixteen. “Hello,” piped the architect. “Is this the home of Maria Carmela Macoy-Guevarra” The teenager frowned at Hope, and kept her silence as she walked into the house. Hope’s friendly smile wavered, but she waited. She read the address again, to check if she was right. Maybe she wasn’t. She was just about to turn around and leave when she had heard the childhood nickname her mom had given her. “Hopia?” it came weakly, but Hope heard it just fine. Hope’s eyes filled with tears.
In her head, she would run to her mother's arms. In here head, there was something tragic that happened to her. Maybe she was involved in the post-human mess. Maybe she wanted to cut all her ties in the Philippines to keep her family safe. But what happened next was a scene she had never even considered to happen.
Her mother was holding a toddler who didn't seem too happy. She looked as young as Hope remembered, but not as youthful. The young lady stood rooted to where she was standing, unable to register what was going on. Her mother smiled but the smile didn't seem right to Hope. She vaguely heard her mother ask her to come in, and her mind certainly wasn't working as much as it should've when she did as her mother asked.
There was a distant look in Hope's eye as she sat down, the shock still apparent. "All these years..." she whispered... "Sa tagal tagal kong hinananap kayo..." it was only then that she managed to look her mother in the eye.
Her mother looked guilty. A part of hope thought that she should feel that way, and another part of her pitied her other. "Sinabihan ko si tatay na buhay ka pa, at hahanapin kita, at idadala kita pabalik sa Pinas. (I told father that you're alive, and I'd find you, and I'd bring you back to the Philippines.)" Her heart broke. How could she face her father now? When she had promised to bring him back the love of his life only to bring him more heartbreak. "Pamilyado ka na pala dito. (So you have a family here.)" The tone Hope took was calm, but it was that tone that scared her mother.
"Hopia, mahal kita. Pero masayadong bata pa kami ng tatay mo noong ikinarga kita. Alam ko, hindi ako karapatdapat na tawaging ina mo pagkatapos sa nagawa ko sayo. Patawad, anak. Lahat gagawin ko mapatawad mo lang ako. Awayin mo 'ko. Sigawan mo 'ko. Sige. (Hopia, I love you. But your dad and I were too young when I carried you. I know, I don't deserve to be called your mother after what I did. Forgive me, child. I'd do anything just for you ro forgive me. Punch me. Yell at me. Go.)"
In her head, her mother was supposed to be the same woman she remembered. This woman in front of Hope, this was no longer the same woman. No longer her mother.
"I have to go," those were the last words Hope uttered to the woman. She left, cold as her heart felt. Everything in her head lost all its credibility the moment she lost faith on the woman who taught her everything. And the God she thought to be so loving turned out to be so cruel, what else was there to believe in anymore?
Joey takes a sip of her water and squints at the article she’s reading on her tablet. Her lunch hour has been spent away from her office as much as possible, recently, and the exposure to the outdoors has been helping with her moodiness. But, hey, moodiness is expected when you tell someone they were your motivation for physical therapeutic recovery and then they just ditch you without another call or text. Sighing, Joey continues reading but abruptly flinches, the movement rattling her wheelchair, when something snaps against her cheekbone. Ow! Her face scrunches up, and she examines the rubber band that falls into her lap. Curiously, she picks it up then dangles it from her finger and looks at the girl sitting at the table beside hers. That’s alright. I’m guessing this is yours?
[Hope smiled feebly as she straightened up. There was no point in hiding at that point. She set down her book that she had failed to pay attention to for her entire stay at the small cafe. The small lady reached for the rubber and slipped it onto her wrist, allowing it to dangle with the bunch of others that came in all colors imaginable.] Thanks. I'm sorry, again. I'm usually very careful with my rubber bands. Are you okay?
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KathNiel with Dara!! :)
Madame Tussauds
[Hope was idly playing with her rubber bands, making star-shapes and whatever figure she knew how to make with them. Usually, she was very careful with her rubber bands but one slip and she had hit the next person's head. She was quick to hide behind the book she was supposedly reading but she peeked out to check on the person, which only served to make things obvious. She laughed feebly before letting out a small peep] Sorry? [she offered]
@Nexus
If you work all the time, you’ll burn out or you’ll love it a little less though, won’t you? Most things that become an obligation rather than a love tend to somehow. Forever in the past, you’ve got hell of a long future still, I’m sure. [She smothers her grin.] Yes, well, it would be too God-like to do and I’m most certainly a mere mortal. It was, it was a law requiring us to do so. Can’t remember the details much though so it could have changed, doubt it though.
Oh, no. Not at all. I love what I do very much. And so far, I haven't ever loved anything I do less when I work extra hard on it. In fact, I become even more passionate. I was careful to choose a job I was sure to love. And if I ever grow tired of it, I could always retire early and go back home. Oh, okay. [She pauses a while to think about what she just learned, still not sure whether getting one was a good idea or not.] Thank you.
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