gravel to tempo

I’m one, I’m two, I’m three times all into you Inside my heart it still beats I’m four, I’m five, I’m six at the best of times But inside my heart it still beats

emm's mask

send me ‘!’ to see how your muse appears in my muse’s GOOD DREAMS

“You’re not useless. In fact, that corner of my office never looked better.” Mafalda glanced across to her girlfriend. who was curled up in the corner in one of the more comfier office chairs that Mafalda had managed to find. Emm had been getting into trouble for not allowing herself to heal, and had even received a letter filled with concern from one of her fellow healers. “I won’t be long here Emm, I promise”. She waved her wand vaguely over a memo, which zoomed rapidly from the room. “Have you given any thought to what we’re ordering for dinner?”

--

“I can’t help anyone from here though.” Emmeline said, even as she could see her supervisor’s disappointed face in her mind. She remembered enough to be helping people. Or at least, advising people or something. She didn’t know enough to help Mafalda’s work. “Maybe soup? Or Chinese. There are good Chinese soups. Do you all send your memos that way?”

“A spreadsheet? Do I want to know?” Adelaide asked, before thinking over the suggestion for a moment. “I like the general idea, but I feel like it would be a bit of a waste to go to the trouble of planning a party, only to not be at it, you know? And I don’t know we should be pissing off the people we do have onside either. Then there really will be nobody inviting us to things.”

-

“Apparently no one wants to hear about statistics at a dinner party.” Which definitely didn’t quite make sense. It had all been quite interesting, she’d thought. She considered Addie’s points. “Yes, I suppose you’re not wrong. Maybe we’ll just have to have very good parties and hope that they all hear about it.”

Emm had been kicked out of St. Mungo’s. Apparently the fact she kept sneaking off to try and do work was ‘detrimental to the healing process’. Now she’d holed herself up in a corner of her girlfriend’s office, sulking. Her hands still had a tremor and her memory wasn’t 100% yet. “Are you sure I’m not in the way?” She asked. “I feel so... useless.”

…

“I– I can’t—” She hunched over again, and her stomach rolled though it was painfully empty now. “I… My arms… my arms, too…” She shoved them out a little, trying to look for the source of the burning, wondering if she had, perhaps, gotten a little too close to the fire at some point. Her feet gave out under her at the idea of sitting, and she basically crumbled. Her voice was barely a whisper. “What’s happening?”

--

“I don’t know.” Emm said as her legs gave out from underneath her as well. Logic got her through all of her darkest times, she took pride in her ability to keep a cool and level head. Only, now she could barely manage to hold two thoughts at once. “It’s like-- like we’ve been hit with something.”

open

“Move… MOVE!” Mina rarely, if ever, rose her voice, and even as she shoved past people, hands quickly bunching up her hair behind her head and jerking forward to empty her stomach of everything it had seen over the last few hours, guilt rose in her for doing it. Her eyes stung, both a symptom of throwing up, and a reaction from pain and embarrassment, all at once. A hand came up to wipe her mouth, and she shuddered, her voice a hoarse whisper. “I’m sorry, I just… didn’t want to get any on your shoes.” 

--

“Don’t worry, my shoes have seen worse.” Emm promised the woman. Her May court crown sat snug on her head and she wished it wasn’t. She had duties to perform but her head was spinning and her arms burned. “Can you reach my kit at all? God my arms hurt. Sorry, it’s...” she looked around and regretted it as her spun worse. “Maybe we should sit down.”

open

“We’re going to have quite the time tonight, aren’t we?”

--

“I’d really rather not have time with you, actually.”

@adelaidesboots​

“I think I stopped getting invites after the time I showed up with a spreadsheet.” Emmeline said mournfully. “We could always host our own party with the other half of the room, and then not show up to that.”

where; somewhere with; open

“people don’t write sonnets about being compatible, or novels about shared life goals and stimulating conversation. the great loves are the crazy ones.”

--

“They do, actually, they’re just very boring. Do you have a crazy love, too?”