shylarah — Roleplayer Guild

Amuné waited impatiently for the door to open, and she'd just stepped forward to knock again when a vaguely familiar voice said her name.  She turned to find the mechanic from Warren.  "Norman?" she asked, more worried about Cecil than glad to see a friend.  "Are you the one they said would fix him?  ...You mean he's not better yet?"  Since the machinist was there, she figured she had permission to go in, so she pushed the door open and held it for him and Wyth to follow.  "Yeah, it's Cecil.  He got hurt real bad!  It's like he's dead, but they keep saying he's not, he's just really really sick."  She looked up at him with wide eyes and a worried expression.  "He took a powerful magic...thing, so Nymira wouldn't get hit.  It was poison and death and really bad!"

Even as she spoke, her eyes scanned the half-lit room, trying to find Cecil among the clutter and in-progress projects of a machinist's shop.  It seemed everyone was still at breakfast, for the place was quiet.  It took a minute to locate her injured friend, laid out on a workbench and if anything looking even worse than the last time she'd seen him.  He still looked lifeless and broken, and Amuné had to choke back a sob.  "Cecil?" she asked, almost reaching out to shake his shoulder gently but stopping herself.  It wasn't good to jostle someone who'd been hurt badly like this.

"You can help him, right Mr. Norman?" she asked plaintively, gripping a handful of her skirt.  "Right?  They weren't just saying that so I wouldn't be sad?"  Hope warred with the recently learned lesson that not everything turned out okay.  "You can, you can fix anything. Right?  Right?!"

"Not from around here, are you Axel."  The young lady seemed amused.  Only someone who was from a considerable distance away would call the suburbs Chicago.  Locals called them by name, unless identifying their home for someone out of state.  Everyone knew where Chicago was, including a lot of people in other countries.  Cecilly was glad that he appeared to have a sense of humor, answering his laugh with a smile of her own.  If this really was an accident, he was taking it well, and if not, laughter was a hopeful sign.  "Well, good enough.  If you insist you're fine, I suppose I shall just have to take your word for it."  She rose smoothly to her feet and held out a hand.  "But you should still grab some ice for that head, and anything else you hit."  She pulled him to his feet without real difficulty, strengthened by years of martial arts and dancing.  Her grip was firm and her well-controlled motions were another indication of both kinds of training.  "I'm Lee -- Cecilly, that is."  She tilted her head, not really looking him up and down, but giving the impression of it nonetheless.

"Actually, let me loan you an ice pack before you go," she said abruptly, waving at him to follow her.  "Is it far to where you're staying?  Do you need to call someone to pick you up?"  Upon further consideration, she'd know if someone had just moved, and it was unlikely there were out-of-town visitors she didn't know about.  The rumormill in her building worked very rapidly indeed, and she spent enough time with other tenants that she knew most of what was going on.  Instead of waving her keyfob past the detector she touched them together, using that to make sure she held it in the right position.  She wasn't worried about letting him in.  He was troubled, but not in a way that seemed dangerous, and he couldn't have faked falling.  Besides, if he did try something, he'd find that she was not an easy target.  She could feel him smiling behind her as she pulled the door open and let him inside.

Out of consideration for what was doubtless a number of bruises, she headed towards the elevator.  She could manage taking it to spare Axel the stairs, regardless of whether he walked like he felt them or not.  Her fingers brushed the braille by the buttons, but she'd gone for the one she wanted without needing to search, and pushed it.  Even though she knew to expect it, Cecilly stumbled a step at the lurch that accompanied the doors starting to slide shut.  "God, I hate this elevator," she grumbled.  "'Nothing wrong' my foot."  Most people didn't have so much trouble with it, but she was very dependent upon her ability to orient herself to the things immediately around her, and it threw her off every time.  "So who're you staying with while you visit, Axel?" she asked, her questions a little bit prying but delivered in a conversational tone.  She didn't want to let him go off alone if he had jumped off the roof, as she expected.  She wanted to make sure he had somewhere, and more importantly, someone -- no matter how apparently cheerful his mood was on the surface.  "You ever visited the Windy City before?"

The elevator stopped far more smoothly, and she lead him all the way to the end of the hall, pushing open the very last door.  "Please, have a seat," she said waving towards the couch.  "Don't mind Freddie, he'll probably want to say hello."  The cat, a ginger tabby, did indeed come to the door within moments, and he seemed more curious than wary of the visitor.  Cecilly's apartment was remarkably well coordinated for someone with no way to tell the colors of things, though various smaller items contrasted sharply with the cream/orangey/pale green color scheme.  That wasn't the only sign, either.  Most of the lights in what could be seen of the apartment were off, aside from a single lamp by the couch and the ones that had turned on when she hit the switch by the door on the way in.  There were pieces of artwork and various knick-knacks around, but the majority were sculpture.  The few pieces that came close to resembling paintings were actually done in relief, making pictures that could be seen by touch.  There were books, but all had braille along their spines, and some had nothing printed in traditional ink at all.  There was little in the way of typed papers anywhere to be found, and those there were likewise had braille instead of print.  The most obvious difference, however, was that while there was a beautiful sound system it was set up around a computer desk, with no sign of a television anywhere.

Overall the place was very neat, which was perhaps to be expected from someone who wouldn't be easily able to locate something not in its proper place.  The first thing the woman did upon entering was close the sliding door to the balcony.  Then she vanished into the kitchen.  It was a nice apartment, the living room and dining room having no real division between them, and the kitchen separated by one full wall and one wide doorway and half wall with a counter along it.  A trio of doors at the end of a very short hallway lead to a darkened bathroom and what was probably her bedroom.  The third was shut, but placement suggested it was nothing more than a closet.

"Can I get you something to drink?  Water, or a can of soda?" she called across the room.  She joined Axel a moment later, handing him the ice pack and putting any drink he might have requested on the small coffee table.  Cecilly sat in the recliner next to the couch, and her cat took this as a signal, going to sit expectantly by her feet.  She laughed.  "Here, Axel, there should be a toy on the end of the stick, lying on the back of the couch behind you.  Do you know how to use it for him?"  She wanted to ask again how he'd gotten to the roof, but he'd neatly avoided that question the first time, and she couldn't see asking it again to be useful.  Instead, she'd try to get a better read on him, while he iced his head.

((Considered letting him go for the evening, but that didn't feel right.  If he wouldn't come with, I'll take everything after the offer out, and just add her bothered by it but letting him go, which shouldn't have much effect on your reply compared to the part of this that'd stay.))

shylarah Member

the crazy one

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