(no subject)
Mar. 16th, 2016 02:03 pmThis mailbox can be also used for Delta's emails. He can be reached at topside@dmail.com.
(no subject)
Aug. 5th, 2014 08:45 pmOnce dancing had been strange and not entirely comfortable, a process of trying to make his large body obey him in ways to which it wasn't accustomed. But since Lily, that had changed, though the change had been slow. Music and laughter and turning bodies no longer meant New Year's Eve, 1958. Something he had begun to understand was that old, painful memories, while they couldn't be erased, could be smoothed over with new ones. Bad associations could be remade.
Lily was helping him to learn.
He smiled and lifted his wine glass - he was beginning to get a sense of what he liked and what he didn't, and this was a red he liked very much. They had been to the restaurant several times now, and he was beginning to think of it as theirs. He wondered what that meant.
"You look beautiful."
Lily was helping him to learn.
He smiled and lifted his wine glass - he was beginning to get a sense of what he liked and what he didn't, and this was a red he liked very much. They had been to the restaurant several times now, and he was beginning to think of it as theirs. He wondered what that meant.
"You look beautiful."
(no subject)
Jul. 18th, 2014 03:38 pmHe had forgotten heat, except for the heat of fire and the machines that kept Rapture running. For a long time there had just been cold - water, metal, ice in his hands. No sunshine, no summer. Coming to Darrow had been like a reminder of something he had encountered in a dream: vivid, even real at the time, but fading. But then, bit by bit, he had remembered. Not just the sun but some of what he had done in it: swimming, picnics with groups of laughing people he supposed must have been friends of the man he had been, dinner and drinks and dancing. Once, he was almost certain, he had climbed a mountain; he remembered the sun on the snow and holding fast to the rope, crags above him and thin air below. He recalled things like classes - a university? He remembered the sawing drone of cicadas as he hiked through thick forests.
The forest through which Delta walked now wasn't nearly as thick as what he recalled in those fragments, but there were cicadas, and by some miracle the dense, heavy heat of mid-July had gentled to something that felt very much like the softer weather of late May. It was too beautiful to stay indoors, even at work, which he still enjoyed very much.
So he was alone, not really hiking but instead wandering without any real purpose, letting his perception drift through the dappled light streaming past the leaves, listening to the cicadas, and for once, not remembering.
The memory he was making now was enough.
The forest through which Delta walked now wasn't nearly as thick as what he recalled in those fragments, but there were cicadas, and by some miracle the dense, heavy heat of mid-July had gentled to something that felt very much like the softer weather of late May. It was too beautiful to stay indoors, even at work, which he still enjoyed very much.
So he was alone, not really hiking but instead wandering without any real purpose, letting his perception drift through the dappled light streaming past the leaves, listening to the cicadas, and for once, not remembering.
The memory he was making now was enough.
(no subject)
Nov. 4th, 2013 10:43 pmHe had found someone.
Or rather, he had found two someones, and he hadn't called for an appointment yet, but he had almost made up his mind to do it. He had done what he considered due diligence, had researched both names online, had found testimonials and reviews and credentials. He had thought about it for hours. He had paced and thought some more.
He was terrified. That was the fact of the matter.
The other fact was that he was so tired of being terrified.
So he had almost made up his mind. But it wasn't quite done yet. There was one more person who should have some kind of say, who should at least know before he went ahead. One other person who had every reason to take a keen interest in the outcome.
With Eve curled up purring in his lap and his fingers working over her head and neck, he waited for Eleanor to come home.
Or rather, he had found two someones, and he hadn't called for an appointment yet, but he had almost made up his mind to do it. He had done what he considered due diligence, had researched both names online, had found testimonials and reviews and credentials. He had thought about it for hours. He had paced and thought some more.
He was terrified. That was the fact of the matter.
The other fact was that he was so tired of being terrified.
So he had almost made up his mind. But it wasn't quite done yet. There was one more person who should have some kind of say, who should at least know before he went ahead. One other person who had every reason to take a keen interest in the outcome.
With Eve curled up purring in his lap and his fingers working over her head and neck, he waited for Eleanor to come home.
(no subject)
Jun. 27th, 2013 09:33 pmThis time he wasn't nervous. He wasn't sure exactly why, as he stopped outside Lily's door and knocked softly, because maybe he should be; of everything they had done together, this was probably the newest thing of them all, and though she had assured him that it was almost entirely safe...
But he wasn't nervous. He wasn't sure what he felt, humming through him. But it wasn't at all unpleasant.
In his other hand was a single long-stemmed rose, which felt appropriate, but it also felt something like an afterthought. This wasn't a date like the others.
She was going to show him something he had never seen before. And he almost couldn't wait.
But he wasn't nervous. He wasn't sure what he felt, humming through him. But it wasn't at all unpleasant.
In his other hand was a single long-stemmed rose, which felt appropriate, but it also felt something like an afterthought. This wasn't a date like the others.
She was going to show him something he had never seen before. And he almost couldn't wait.
(no subject)
Jun. 8th, 2013 12:16 amIt was after the beach that he decided it was time to come out and say something, if for no other reason than that now there was clearly something to talk about. Before, he hadn't been sure. Now... He didn't really know what else he needed to make him sure.
He didn't know what this was yet. But it was something. And Eleanor deserved to know.
Deciding that turned out to be the easy part.
So for a while he waffled without wanting to admit that what he was doing was waffling, puzzling over how exactly to talk about something he wasn't sure how to define, what exactly she needed to know and what she didn't, until finally he had to accept that it was probably going to be awkward regardless of what he did.
So he ordered Chinese food. It seemed like the thing to do.
"Eleanor," he called, after he paid the delivery man and shut the apartment door, turning toward the kitchen with a bag fragrant with steamed vegetables and General Tso's chicken. "The food is here."
He didn't know what this was yet. But it was something. And Eleanor deserved to know.
Deciding that turned out to be the easy part.
So for a while he waffled without wanting to admit that what he was doing was waffling, puzzling over how exactly to talk about something he wasn't sure how to define, what exactly she needed to know and what she didn't, until finally he had to accept that it was probably going to be awkward regardless of what he did.
So he ordered Chinese food. It seemed like the thing to do.
"Eleanor," he called, after he paid the delivery man and shut the apartment door, turning toward the kitchen with a bag fragrant with steamed vegetables and General Tso's chicken. "The food is here."
(no subject)
May. 2nd, 2013 10:00 pmMost of Delta's nights were peaceful. They had been since he had come to Darrow, and at first that in itself had been strange and almost alarming - sleeping, and doing so safe and alone. Waking up with the feel of sheets against his skin. Morning breeze through a window. All strange, all familiar, in ways he couldn't untangle. Then less strange, more simply pleasant, and for the most part the lingering fear receded.
Then, Eleanor, and the new experience of sleeping with someone close by, and this, too, was pleasant. It occurred to him at one point that this was simply what people did, what families did. Lived together. Spent nights together, even when in separate rooms and beds. Eleanor was bringing him more into the world.
As she always had.
So most of his nights were peaceful. But not all. And as he sat up in bed, trying to understand what had awakened him and was now twisting at his gut, he knew that this one wouldn't be one of them.
Then, Eleanor, and the new experience of sleeping with someone close by, and this, too, was pleasant. It occurred to him at one point that this was simply what people did, what families did. Lived together. Spent nights together, even when in separate rooms and beds. Eleanor was bringing him more into the world.
As she always had.
So most of his nights were peaceful. But not all. And as he sat up in bed, trying to understand what had awakened him and was now twisting at his gut, he knew that this one wouldn't be one of them.
(no subject)
Mar. 7th, 2013 12:29 pmHe was settling. He thought. Living with Eleanor was so different from constantly moving toward her, chasing her down, and before that, walking with her through the slowly decaying halls of Rapture in search of corpses, angels, blood... that could barely have been called living with. Life without needing to protect her. Just... life.
But it was happening. As with everything else, he was learning. They both were.
But sometimes he still needed time on his own, time to walk and think. So on a day when he had nowhere to be, and Eleanor was in school, he fed Eve and then took to the street and made his way to the park. Everything might be dead now, brown and gray and leafless, but he understood that it wouldn't always be that way, and if he was honest, he went there often now to look for a sign. The first green shoots. The first buds on the trees. Not reassurance. But something like it.
Watching life was what he did now. Watching life without needing to kill for it.
It felt good.
But it was happening. As with everything else, he was learning. They both were.
But sometimes he still needed time on his own, time to walk and think. So on a day when he had nowhere to be, and Eleanor was in school, he fed Eve and then took to the street and made his way to the park. Everything might be dead now, brown and gray and leafless, but he understood that it wouldn't always be that way, and if he was honest, he went there often now to look for a sign. The first green shoots. The first buds on the trees. Not reassurance. But something like it.
Watching life was what he did now. Watching life without needing to kill for it.
It felt good.
(no subject)
Feb. 3rd, 2013 12:43 pmIt had been so wonderful. And so strange.
Everything was different now. He had expected that - if he had expected any of this at all - and it didn't trouble him too much. But it was something to navigate. Speaking to each other. And at times, him not sure what to even say to her. Lost in everything he wanted to say, without much idea of where and how to start.
Now: the aquarium. Taking her to see where he worked had seemed like an obvious thing to do. They were bathed in blue light, everything moving in slow waves around them, a few people moving through the rooms of fish and crabs and twisting eels, ponderous turtles. It was always soothing to him and it was now.
"I didn't expect to like it here as much as I do," he said. "But it feels... not like home. Except maybe some of the good parts of home."
Everything was different now. He had expected that - if he had expected any of this at all - and it didn't trouble him too much. But it was something to navigate. Speaking to each other. And at times, him not sure what to even say to her. Lost in everything he wanted to say, without much idea of where and how to start.
Now: the aquarium. Taking her to see where he worked had seemed like an obvious thing to do. They were bathed in blue light, everything moving in slow waves around them, a few people moving through the rooms of fish and crabs and twisting eels, ponderous turtles. It was always soothing to him and it was now.
"I didn't expect to like it here as much as I do," he said. "But it feels... not like home. Except maybe some of the good parts of home."
(no subject)
Apr. 10th, 2012 11:00 pmDelta was back in the park.
He was there for the same reason that he had spent a lot of time there in the last few days--the air, the sun, the trees and the way the grass felt under him. Sometimes he walked. Sometimes he sat on the grass with his eyes closed and his face turned up to the sun. Sometimes--and this was always the nicest on the days when he forgot to put on a shirt, though he was almost perfect about remembering pants--he rolled in the grass, ending up on his stomach or back with the sun warming his bare skin.
Those times, sometimes, he would just sleep for the sheer pleasure of sleeping.
What was less pleasurable were the dreams.
But he wasn't thinking about that now, because now he was also here on a mission. He was tired of the paper and the pen--they worked well enough given the alternative, but with everyone else talking around him, the words in his head were like pressure building against a valve; a little release here and there was only a stopgap.
Sooner or later something was going to blow open and flood.
He sat in the grass with a yellowing paperback book open in his lap and a frown twisting at his brow. The book had come from one of the broken-open shops; he had taken it on a foraging expedition, at first on a whim, though the title of the thing itself--and really, the cover, if he was being honest--didn't much appeal to him.
But there were words. Words that weren't his. And reading was like hearing. And maybe if he heard--maybe he could remember how to spit what he heard back out again.
It was worth a try, anyway. As much worth a try as anything else he had tried.
He was there for the same reason that he had spent a lot of time there in the last few days--the air, the sun, the trees and the way the grass felt under him. Sometimes he walked. Sometimes he sat on the grass with his eyes closed and his face turned up to the sun. Sometimes--and this was always the nicest on the days when he forgot to put on a shirt, though he was almost perfect about remembering pants--he rolled in the grass, ending up on his stomach or back with the sun warming his bare skin.
Those times, sometimes, he would just sleep for the sheer pleasure of sleeping.
What was less pleasurable were the dreams.
But he wasn't thinking about that now, because now he was also here on a mission. He was tired of the paper and the pen--they worked well enough given the alternative, but with everyone else talking around him, the words in his head were like pressure building against a valve; a little release here and there was only a stopgap.
Sooner or later something was going to blow open and flood.
He sat in the grass with a yellowing paperback book open in his lap and a frown twisting at his brow. The book had come from one of the broken-open shops; he had taken it on a foraging expedition, at first on a whim, though the title of the thing itself--and really, the cover, if he was being honest--didn't much appeal to him.
But there were words. Words that weren't his. And reading was like hearing. And maybe if he heard--maybe he could remember how to spit what he heard back out again.
It was worth a try, anyway. As much worth a try as anything else he had tried.
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