Post by Tessera Guldak on Jul 12, 2015 19:28:17 GMT -5
The warehouse's dry wall peeled in places, exposing support beams and even darker crevices, ones that Tessera was tempted to explore, but didn't. Her barn owl form was small enough and she could see in darkness fine, as that was her animal form's height of hunting prowess, at night. Instead, she ventured down into the sewers, climbing down the ladder slowly because she didn't want to fall. That would be fun to explain: why a fierce Carna managed to hurt herself climbing a ladder. Tess's cheeks swelled with fire at the thought, even though she hopped off the last rung without a problem. She turned to look around. It was dark, but it reminded Tess more of dusk than the night sky. She sat down near the ladder, ignoring the grime. Her jeans that she was allowed to bring into the Menagerie were almost ruined anyway, riddled with holes and dirt. In some places, the denim was a permanent lovely shade of brown because muck had so thoroughly sank into the fabric.
She took a deep breath. It was rare when going on a run didn't take away her foul mood, but those days did happen. Today was one of those days. Tess's mouth seemed to be stuck in a permanent scowl because it felt so natural to her, when smiling was an endeavor requiring more effort than she was willing to give. When running didn't work, there was only one solution: she had to be alone. Tucked behind the ladder in Sewertown, it seemed like a fair idea. It was even better when no one climbed down the ladder in a long while. Maybe she could tuck away this foul mood and go on a flight or something. She didn't smile at the thought, but her shoulders sank down a millimeter. A start. Tessera's life seemed to be defined by starts lately, never the journey or the end. She never wanted to think of journeys because they rarely ended well and ends... well.
Tess pushed her hair back and combed her fingers over her forehead all the way to the crown of the head, the oils and grease from her hands keeping it back. She needed to trim it. She hated trimming it because she hated to see any of the ends on the ground, soon to be forgotten, but her hair would be a ruined mess if she didn't and that was even less acceptable. The ends were beginning to fray and split, no matter how much she dunked it in water and combed it out carefully, as carefully as she could with fingers. Maybe it contributed to her mood, knowing that her hair was starting to deteriorate. She couldn't take care of it the way she wanted to in this place. She played with a strand that fell around her face absentmindedly, trying to think of what she would do next.
Tess stretched her legs so she was sitting with her knees up, but not to her chest. She stared at the walls like they held the answers to all of her questions, all the mysteries of her life. Her thoughts and ideas began to swim, blur together. It happened when a memory tried to come forward but ultimately couldn't, and Tess's eyes began to sting. She swallowed, hard, and she waited for what always happened next. There it is. Someone combed her hair with a fine comb, a pearl sitting on top of it, running it down her shoulders, and she heard that song. The song that infuriated her and calmed her because it was all she had left, in a sense. All she had to look forward to, and also to remind her she wasn't allowed to remember. She didn't know why she thought that she wasn't allowed to, but that's the way she put it. She knew it in her bones. It wasn't that she couldn't remember. It was that the Keepers had them and wouldn't give them back. Tess's arms began to tremble.
Starting with a crack, Tess began to hum because she didn't know the words. She kept it soft, in case anyone came down and heard her. She didn't let herself cry. She had done enough of that to last a lifetime.
She took a deep breath. It was rare when going on a run didn't take away her foul mood, but those days did happen. Today was one of those days. Tess's mouth seemed to be stuck in a permanent scowl because it felt so natural to her, when smiling was an endeavor requiring more effort than she was willing to give. When running didn't work, there was only one solution: she had to be alone. Tucked behind the ladder in Sewertown, it seemed like a fair idea. It was even better when no one climbed down the ladder in a long while. Maybe she could tuck away this foul mood and go on a flight or something. She didn't smile at the thought, but her shoulders sank down a millimeter. A start. Tessera's life seemed to be defined by starts lately, never the journey or the end. She never wanted to think of journeys because they rarely ended well and ends... well.
Tess pushed her hair back and combed her fingers over her forehead all the way to the crown of the head, the oils and grease from her hands keeping it back. She needed to trim it. She hated trimming it because she hated to see any of the ends on the ground, soon to be forgotten, but her hair would be a ruined mess if she didn't and that was even less acceptable. The ends were beginning to fray and split, no matter how much she dunked it in water and combed it out carefully, as carefully as she could with fingers. Maybe it contributed to her mood, knowing that her hair was starting to deteriorate. She couldn't take care of it the way she wanted to in this place. She played with a strand that fell around her face absentmindedly, trying to think of what she would do next.
Tess stretched her legs so she was sitting with her knees up, but not to her chest. She stared at the walls like they held the answers to all of her questions, all the mysteries of her life. Her thoughts and ideas began to swim, blur together. It happened when a memory tried to come forward but ultimately couldn't, and Tess's eyes began to sting. She swallowed, hard, and she waited for what always happened next. There it is. Someone combed her hair with a fine comb, a pearl sitting on top of it, running it down her shoulders, and she heard that song. The song that infuriated her and calmed her because it was all she had left, in a sense. All she had to look forward to, and also to remind her she wasn't allowed to remember. She didn't know why she thought that she wasn't allowed to, but that's the way she put it. She knew it in her bones. It wasn't that she couldn't remember. It was that the Keepers had them and wouldn't give them back. Tess's arms began to tremble.
Starting with a crack, Tess began to hum because she didn't know the words. She kept it soft, in case anyone came down and heard her. She didn't let herself cry. She had done enough of that to last a lifetime.
