Accentuate the Positive
Sep. 28th, 2005 02:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
arsenicwaltzThe girl sits chin-deep in lavender scented bubbles, in the large marble bathtub that graces the vaguely defined bathroom in her apartments. Vanilla candles flicker everywhere, in sconces, on small tables, packed onto any flat surface or ledge until the entire bathroom, hazy corners and all, is bathed in a warm flickering light. Nearby, her image in the vanity mirror cups its hands to the surface of the steam-fogged glass, as if trying desperately to get out. Vague mutterings can be heard from that direction, but the girl ignores them at present, lifting one sudsy knee from the water an inspecting it critically. There is a double crescent of purple there, and a matching, albeit lighter one on her left forearm. She smirks slightly to herself, remembering that of the bruises she sustained, these, the only visible ones, were all the work of her own teeth. She sighs then, extending one hand outside the tub to an end table, where a small pot of arnica salve appears on cue. As she rubs the strange smelling concoction into her skin, the muttering from the mirror takes on a more urgent tone, and she sighs. With a look and a wave, she gives the informal invocation.
"Speak, Nameless." The mirror suddenly is clear, as if wiped instantly dry of any interfering moisture.
"HA."
"Hardly the first words I expected from you."
"Yes, well, there they are. HA. Regardless of what you thought was going to happen... HA. I defy you to be unhappy about this one."
The girl frowns, taking a new handful of the arnica. "I am certainly not unhappy about this. But more things were bruised than just my flesh."
"Oh, really...?" The mirror-girl gives the impression of placing hands on her hips, despite the fact that the mirror isn't quite large enough to accommodate such a gesture.
Sighing, she replaces the pot of arnica on the table, where it disappears obediently. "If only there was something similar for my pride" she mutters at the water.
"Well?" The mirror-girl is most insistent. "I daresay you'll survive it."
"Of course I'll survive! I always have. It's just that I feel so stupid for pursuing him. I feel like..."
"Like an idiot. I know. We've had just this sort of discussion *plenty* of times already."
The girl places her face in damp hands and winces. "Don't I know it. At least this isn't another to add to the list, right?"
"Well, not really, but..."
"I mean, I knew the Flame was still mourning his Gypsy, but looking into his grief like that was like standing next to the dark chasm you've just pulled yourself out of, and looking over the edge. It hurt me to see it, and I wanted, I wanted *so much* to help him. Just wanting to help him was like starting to crawl back down into it. I had to stop, and I felt so useless and insignificant in the face of so much pain..." She snorts ironically, "As if I would've believed, a bare month or so ago, that this would ever happen."
Her soliloquy over, she looks back up to the mirror-girl, who is staring at her with a wicked twinkle in her eye. "What? What's that smug look for?"
"You got to play with the Fae. And that makes seventeen." The mirror silences and re-fogs instantly, leaving the girl to stare at her leering reflection with surprise.
"So you think you got the last word? Well, you're wrong about that, even if you are right about... how much I have to be thankful for. And..." a bright smile flashes across her face, chasing the traces of discontent away for a moment, "and trust me, I am *very* thankful."
"Speak, Nameless." The mirror suddenly is clear, as if wiped instantly dry of any interfering moisture.
"HA."
"Hardly the first words I expected from you."
"Yes, well, there they are. HA. Regardless of what you thought was going to happen... HA. I defy you to be unhappy about this one."
The girl frowns, taking a new handful of the arnica. "I am certainly not unhappy about this. But more things were bruised than just my flesh."
"Oh, really...?" The mirror-girl gives the impression of placing hands on her hips, despite the fact that the mirror isn't quite large enough to accommodate such a gesture.
Sighing, she replaces the pot of arnica on the table, where it disappears obediently. "If only there was something similar for my pride" she mutters at the water.
"Well?" The mirror-girl is most insistent. "I daresay you'll survive it."
"Of course I'll survive! I always have. It's just that I feel so stupid for pursuing him. I feel like..."
"Like an idiot. I know. We've had just this sort of discussion *plenty* of times already."
The girl places her face in damp hands and winces. "Don't I know it. At least this isn't another to add to the list, right?"
"Well, not really, but..."
"I mean, I knew the Flame was still mourning his Gypsy, but looking into his grief like that was like standing next to the dark chasm you've just pulled yourself out of, and looking over the edge. It hurt me to see it, and I wanted, I wanted *so much* to help him. Just wanting to help him was like starting to crawl back down into it. I had to stop, and I felt so useless and insignificant in the face of so much pain..." She snorts ironically, "As if I would've believed, a bare month or so ago, that this would ever happen."
Her soliloquy over, she looks back up to the mirror-girl, who is staring at her with a wicked twinkle in her eye. "What? What's that smug look for?"
"You got to play with the Fae. And that makes seventeen." The mirror silences and re-fogs instantly, leaving the girl to stare at her leering reflection with surprise.
"So you think you got the last word? Well, you're wrong about that, even if you are right about... how much I have to be thankful for. And..." a bright smile flashes across her face, chasing the traces of discontent away for a moment, "and trust me, I am *very* thankful."
