Amanda, Marie-Ange - Wednesday morning.
Oct. 12th, 2005 08:27 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsEngaging in tentative roomie chat (fortunately Marie-Ange hasn't checked her email yet!), Amanda is there as Marie-Ange has a vision of the more violent type.
It was strange, the power of habits. She and Marie-Ange had been awkwardly trying not to get in each other's way since the pre-cognitive had come back from New Orleans, and yet Amanda still found herself making two cups of tea whenever she was up getting one for herself. A habit formed after a year of sharing rooms with the other girl. Most of the time Marie-Ange wasn't around and the second one just went down the sink. This time, however, she was in her room, working on homework, and on impulse Amanda decided to take it to her. Perhaps it was time to start reaching out, instead of closing herself off. Considering the mess she'd made of things already.
"Tea's up," she said, tapping on the other girl's half-open door and sticking her head around the edge. "Did you want one?" There was no pleading or apology in her tone, just normality. Take it or leave it, it seemed to say. it's no biggie.
"If tea will dispel the calculus monster, then yes, please." Marie-Ange said wearily. Despite Doug's attempts at tutoring, this particular assignment was going nowhere fast, and she just couldn't concentrate on it. "Even if it will not actually -dispel- the monster, actually." She pushed away from the desk and started to get up. "I think I need a break from this. The numbers keep changing around on the page.."
Amanda came in and handed over the mug, wrinkling her nose a little. "Don't have any calculus monster-be-gone spells either," she said with a faint smile as she leaned back against Marie-Ange's doorframe, sipping from her own mug. "Numbers're sneaky bastards. Just when you think you've got 'em pinned down, they play musical chairs on the page an' get you all mixed up again." The smile became a little more cheeky. "Bet you're wishin' you'd picked a college course without calculus, yeah?"
Marie-Ange bent over the mug, letting the steam and earthy smell of the tea relax her. It was only as she managed to relax that she realized she'd been gritting her teeth, and now, her jaw ached. "If someone had told me that architecture demanded this much math, I would have never attempted it." And now, she was not going to let a little thing like maths keep her from doing it. "And Doug is no help right now."
"How long is he gunna be stuck with the no words, do they know?" Amanda asked, not unsympathetically. Doug's lack of words was a bit of a school joke, but it was hard on Marie-Ange, not being able to have actual conversations with her boyfriend.
"Dr. MacTaggart said it would be like healing a wound, but it is hard to tell how big the wound is.." Marie-Ange explained. "But Doug is talking a little now, just... very oddly." She wasn't sure that he was any less frustrated, speaking in short phrases, or having to resort to song and verse, but it was better than frantic gestures. "So I am hoping sooner than later."
"Yeah, I bet you are. The quoting thing's weird." Amanda grinned briefly. "Sounds like it's a bit like me when I overdo the magic - just needs time an' resting the power t' fix it. Still, at least you didn't get the big dramatic noses bleeds an' the rest." Letting outa self-deprecating chuckle, she added: "I'd have t' give up me drama queen title, an' the tiara suits me so much better than him."
Marie-Ange laughed and shook her head. "You do not know the half of it." She gestured towards her still-unmade bed, and the pair of Doug's jeans that were in a pile at the foot. "I appriciate Doug's singing voice, but this is starting to get just silly." That was, she decided, the only detail Amanda was going to get. Doug was embarassed enough about public commentary on their sex life.
Amanda nearly snorted tea up her nose. "That'd explain the Rocky Horror Picture Show songs I heard the other night, then," she teased. Hearing Doug sing "Touch Me" from the show had been disconcerting and hilariious all at the same time. "How's college?" she asked, steering the topic away from potentially-embarrassing-to-Doug paths. "Apart from the evil numbers, that is."
"I still hope that was a joke..." Marie-Ange said, still not sure if it was now. Doug was -very- odd lately. And normally had such better taste in music. "Aside from calculus, it is not as awful as everyone told me it would be. " Admittedly, her history courses were somewhat laughable compared to the ones Nathan had taught, but still.
"Could have been worse, could've been 'Sweet Transvestite'," Amanda suggested, unable to help herself. "You're certainly workin' hard enough, but that seems t' be the theme around here this year. 'S good, that you're enjoyin' it." The last was said almost wistfully - Amanda was catching up on the lost
schooling, but with her classmates all going to college this year (apart from Manuel), she felt a bit left behind.
That particular mental image made Marie-Ange shudder violently. "If Doug ever sings that, I am going to have him checked for brain worms." She turned, as if to point out something among the giant pile of schoolbooks and papers on her desk, and frowned.
The shivers up her back weren't stopping, and while the imagined Doug was disturbing, it wasn't -that- bothersome. It was funny, in an odd sort of way. Maybe the shivers were due to holding a hot mug of tea, Marie-Ange thought, and set the mug down carefully to avoid spilling any of the tea on her desk.
"Maybe we should think of tryin' it for the school play or somethin' - we do that sort of lark, don't we? School plays an' proms an' all the rest of the American high school experience." Amanda didn't pick up the shivers, and didn't pay attention to Marie-Ange setting the mug down. It was a normal thing to do, after all.
"I think that the Professor..." The shivers continued up her back, and down her legs, making Marie-Ange's hands tremble. She swallowed against her throat tightning, and grimaced.
-Crack-. A sick splintering noise echoed in her ears... "Amanda? Did you hear...", but before Amanda could answer, Marie-Ange doubled over, covering her mouth with one hand. ~God... Dear God, no..~ A face she knew all too well, half caved in, red and black eyes darkened over with blood.
"Angie?" Amanda floated her mug over to the desk without thinking, coming forward to gently take her roomie by the shoulders. "Angie, what is it?"
Talking wasn't easy, not when she was trying to keep from vomiting her last meal, and the tea, all over her desk. "He's been caved in.." She could still picture him, or was still seeing him, Marie-Ange wasn't sure. Crushed under concrete and steel, broken like someone's toy. "Dead.. no.. no, dying. Not dead. Not. Dead." It was the future, he wasn't dead yet... "Remy. Remy is dying...."
It was like someone had rammed an icy spike straight through her chest. "No," she whispered through numb lips. Not Remy, not dying, no fucking way, he'd promised... "Hang onto it, Angie," she told the precognitive. "Give me all you have. We won't let it happen, yeah?" She gripped Marie-Ange's hand tightly in her own, digging for the now ever-present phone with the other and paging through the address book until she found the number she needed and hit the 'Call' button. "C'mon Jake, pick up, pick up..."
Amanda was, obviously, insane. And they said that -she- was crazy? "Crushed... under.. a rock? Maybe girders. I am not sure. The tower fell down on Remy, and he was under the stones.. " It was definitely rock, she could tell that, or would be rock.. "The queen of swords is .. going to.. has shot him up and dropped a building on him, and he was bleeding -everywhere-" Her stomach lurched and she doubled over, not quite making it to the wastebasket before vomiting noisily.
"Fuck," was all Amanda managed to say before Jake finally answered his phone. "Jake? 'S me. Listen, this is fuckin' important, yeah. You an' Betts, you know how t' find Remy? Then bloody well do it. Now. I got an email yesterday from Tampa, but now he's in trouble, big trouble an' someone needs t' get t' him, fast." Obviously Jake was trying to argue, since she abruptly cut him off. "No, I'm not takin' the mickey here, Jake. He's dyin'. Someone's beatin' the utter shite out of him. Angie saw it." Another pause. "Yeah. A vision. Now get movin'." Her voice, her demeanour, had changed entirely, reminding Marie-Ange of Pete in a strange way. The witch closed up her phone and tossed it onto the desk before returning her attention to her striken roomie, dragging the wastepaper basket over with a spell and brushing hair back out of Marie-Ange's face. "Okay, mate, you did good. Don't worry 'bout anythin' Jake an' Betts will sort it." And if it had already happened? Amanda's eyes darkened. Then she'd have some sorting of her own to do. "Want me t' call the docs?"
"It will not help." Marie-Ange's voice wavered, thin and reedy. She heaved again, but nothing came up.. "Everything goes all white, and there are shrouds and one fewer than before..." Remy was dying, or going to be killed, and she saw nothing else for him. Nothing at all. "All the life is going to go out of him, and there will be none left at all."
"Fuck that," Amanda replied, fiercely, her hands tightening a little on Marie-Ange's shoulders. "It's not gunna happen. Remy is not fuckin' dyin', even if I..." She stopped herself - even in the fear and worry, she held onto caution. "It's not gunna happen," she repeated instead.
Marie-Ange shook her head slowly, there was no way. "He is torn apart. Nothing.. There is going to be too much to fix." There was so much blood, and torn skin.. "He has bits missing there there should be parts whole and attached. The Tower is going to fall and great destructive change and everything will end. There is no more hermit, Amanda. He cannot be made whole.." She just didn't understand.
"I don't care how much there is, I can fix..." Marie-Ange retched and threw up again, and the sight of her heaving miserably into the trashcan made Amanda's mind up for her. "I'll get Moira. Won't be a sec," she said, before dashing out of the room.
The door swung shut on Marie-Ange's pleading words. "There is an eclipse of the moon, Amanda. Do not go... " But it was already too late. Amanda -did- understand, all too well.
It was strange, the power of habits. She and Marie-Ange had been awkwardly trying not to get in each other's way since the pre-cognitive had come back from New Orleans, and yet Amanda still found herself making two cups of tea whenever she was up getting one for herself. A habit formed after a year of sharing rooms with the other girl. Most of the time Marie-Ange wasn't around and the second one just went down the sink. This time, however, she was in her room, working on homework, and on impulse Amanda decided to take it to her. Perhaps it was time to start reaching out, instead of closing herself off. Considering the mess she'd made of things already.
"Tea's up," she said, tapping on the other girl's half-open door and sticking her head around the edge. "Did you want one?" There was no pleading or apology in her tone, just normality. Take it or leave it, it seemed to say. it's no biggie.
"If tea will dispel the calculus monster, then yes, please." Marie-Ange said wearily. Despite Doug's attempts at tutoring, this particular assignment was going nowhere fast, and she just couldn't concentrate on it. "Even if it will not actually -dispel- the monster, actually." She pushed away from the desk and started to get up. "I think I need a break from this. The numbers keep changing around on the page.."
Amanda came in and handed over the mug, wrinkling her nose a little. "Don't have any calculus monster-be-gone spells either," she said with a faint smile as she leaned back against Marie-Ange's doorframe, sipping from her own mug. "Numbers're sneaky bastards. Just when you think you've got 'em pinned down, they play musical chairs on the page an' get you all mixed up again." The smile became a little more cheeky. "Bet you're wishin' you'd picked a college course without calculus, yeah?"
Marie-Ange bent over the mug, letting the steam and earthy smell of the tea relax her. It was only as she managed to relax that she realized she'd been gritting her teeth, and now, her jaw ached. "If someone had told me that architecture demanded this much math, I would have never attempted it." And now, she was not going to let a little thing like maths keep her from doing it. "And Doug is no help right now."
"How long is he gunna be stuck with the no words, do they know?" Amanda asked, not unsympathetically. Doug's lack of words was a bit of a school joke, but it was hard on Marie-Ange, not being able to have actual conversations with her boyfriend.
"Dr. MacTaggart said it would be like healing a wound, but it is hard to tell how big the wound is.." Marie-Ange explained. "But Doug is talking a little now, just... very oddly." She wasn't sure that he was any less frustrated, speaking in short phrases, or having to resort to song and verse, but it was better than frantic gestures. "So I am hoping sooner than later."
"Yeah, I bet you are. The quoting thing's weird." Amanda grinned briefly. "Sounds like it's a bit like me when I overdo the magic - just needs time an' resting the power t' fix it. Still, at least you didn't get the big dramatic noses bleeds an' the rest." Letting outa self-deprecating chuckle, she added: "I'd have t' give up me drama queen title, an' the tiara suits me so much better than him."
Marie-Ange laughed and shook her head. "You do not know the half of it." She gestured towards her still-unmade bed, and the pair of Doug's jeans that were in a pile at the foot. "I appriciate Doug's singing voice, but this is starting to get just silly." That was, she decided, the only detail Amanda was going to get. Doug was embarassed enough about public commentary on their sex life.
Amanda nearly snorted tea up her nose. "That'd explain the Rocky Horror Picture Show songs I heard the other night, then," she teased. Hearing Doug sing "Touch Me" from the show had been disconcerting and hilariious all at the same time. "How's college?" she asked, steering the topic away from potentially-embarrassing-to-Doug paths. "Apart from the evil numbers, that is."
"I still hope that was a joke..." Marie-Ange said, still not sure if it was now. Doug was -very- odd lately. And normally had such better taste in music. "Aside from calculus, it is not as awful as everyone told me it would be. " Admittedly, her history courses were somewhat laughable compared to the ones Nathan had taught, but still.
"Could have been worse, could've been 'Sweet Transvestite'," Amanda suggested, unable to help herself. "You're certainly workin' hard enough, but that seems t' be the theme around here this year. 'S good, that you're enjoyin' it." The last was said almost wistfully - Amanda was catching up on the lost
schooling, but with her classmates all going to college this year (apart from Manuel), she felt a bit left behind.
That particular mental image made Marie-Ange shudder violently. "If Doug ever sings that, I am going to have him checked for brain worms." She turned, as if to point out something among the giant pile of schoolbooks and papers on her desk, and frowned.
The shivers up her back weren't stopping, and while the imagined Doug was disturbing, it wasn't -that- bothersome. It was funny, in an odd sort of way. Maybe the shivers were due to holding a hot mug of tea, Marie-Ange thought, and set the mug down carefully to avoid spilling any of the tea on her desk.
"Maybe we should think of tryin' it for the school play or somethin' - we do that sort of lark, don't we? School plays an' proms an' all the rest of the American high school experience." Amanda didn't pick up the shivers, and didn't pay attention to Marie-Ange setting the mug down. It was a normal thing to do, after all.
"I think that the Professor..." The shivers continued up her back, and down her legs, making Marie-Ange's hands tremble. She swallowed against her throat tightning, and grimaced.
-Crack-. A sick splintering noise echoed in her ears... "Amanda? Did you hear...", but before Amanda could answer, Marie-Ange doubled over, covering her mouth with one hand. ~God... Dear God, no..~ A face she knew all too well, half caved in, red and black eyes darkened over with blood.
"Angie?" Amanda floated her mug over to the desk without thinking, coming forward to gently take her roomie by the shoulders. "Angie, what is it?"
Talking wasn't easy, not when she was trying to keep from vomiting her last meal, and the tea, all over her desk. "He's been caved in.." She could still picture him, or was still seeing him, Marie-Ange wasn't sure. Crushed under concrete and steel, broken like someone's toy. "Dead.. no.. no, dying. Not dead. Not. Dead." It was the future, he wasn't dead yet... "Remy. Remy is dying...."
It was like someone had rammed an icy spike straight through her chest. "No," she whispered through numb lips. Not Remy, not dying, no fucking way, he'd promised... "Hang onto it, Angie," she told the precognitive. "Give me all you have. We won't let it happen, yeah?" She gripped Marie-Ange's hand tightly in her own, digging for the now ever-present phone with the other and paging through the address book until she found the number she needed and hit the 'Call' button. "C'mon Jake, pick up, pick up..."
Amanda was, obviously, insane. And they said that -she- was crazy? "Crushed... under.. a rock? Maybe girders. I am not sure. The tower fell down on Remy, and he was under the stones.. " It was definitely rock, she could tell that, or would be rock.. "The queen of swords is .. going to.. has shot him up and dropped a building on him, and he was bleeding -everywhere-" Her stomach lurched and she doubled over, not quite making it to the wastebasket before vomiting noisily.
"Fuck," was all Amanda managed to say before Jake finally answered his phone. "Jake? 'S me. Listen, this is fuckin' important, yeah. You an' Betts, you know how t' find Remy? Then bloody well do it. Now. I got an email yesterday from Tampa, but now he's in trouble, big trouble an' someone needs t' get t' him, fast." Obviously Jake was trying to argue, since she abruptly cut him off. "No, I'm not takin' the mickey here, Jake. He's dyin'. Someone's beatin' the utter shite out of him. Angie saw it." Another pause. "Yeah. A vision. Now get movin'." Her voice, her demeanour, had changed entirely, reminding Marie-Ange of Pete in a strange way. The witch closed up her phone and tossed it onto the desk before returning her attention to her striken roomie, dragging the wastepaper basket over with a spell and brushing hair back out of Marie-Ange's face. "Okay, mate, you did good. Don't worry 'bout anythin' Jake an' Betts will sort it." And if it had already happened? Amanda's eyes darkened. Then she'd have some sorting of her own to do. "Want me t' call the docs?"
"It will not help." Marie-Ange's voice wavered, thin and reedy. She heaved again, but nothing came up.. "Everything goes all white, and there are shrouds and one fewer than before..." Remy was dying, or going to be killed, and she saw nothing else for him. Nothing at all. "All the life is going to go out of him, and there will be none left at all."
"Fuck that," Amanda replied, fiercely, her hands tightening a little on Marie-Ange's shoulders. "It's not gunna happen. Remy is not fuckin' dyin', even if I..." She stopped herself - even in the fear and worry, she held onto caution. "It's not gunna happen," she repeated instead.
Marie-Ange shook her head slowly, there was no way. "He is torn apart. Nothing.. There is going to be too much to fix." There was so much blood, and torn skin.. "He has bits missing there there should be parts whole and attached. The Tower is going to fall and great destructive change and everything will end. There is no more hermit, Amanda. He cannot be made whole.." She just didn't understand.
"I don't care how much there is, I can fix..." Marie-Ange retched and threw up again, and the sight of her heaving miserably into the trashcan made Amanda's mind up for her. "I'll get Moira. Won't be a sec," she said, before dashing out of the room.
The door swung shut on Marie-Ange's pleading words. "There is an eclipse of the moon, Amanda. Do not go... " But it was already too late. Amanda -did- understand, all too well.
