Alison and Jo, December 27th
Jan. 3rd, 2004 03:26 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsWas waiting on another log with Jo to post this, but there's going to be an unavoidable delay on that, so expect another backdated log sometime in the foreseeable future.
Jo Madrox turned from a perfunctoray post-Christmas inspection of her son's room--surprisingly neat considering its inhabitants, although she made a note to remind Jamie to do his laundry more often--and smiled when she saw Alison's door, cracked open.
Taking that as an invitation--or at least not a disinvitation--she poked her head inside. "Alison?" she called, softly in case Miles was down for his nap. "Are you here, are you busy, are you decent?"
"I'm good," was the reply, a welcoming note held within. "Come on in," the volume of the voice indicating Miles wasn't sleeping at any rate along with the lack of cheerful boyish greeting indicating that he was likely off with one of the other kids, accepting to be detached from Alison a bit more frequently these days, it seemed.
"Wonderful." Jo breezed into the room and perched in an empty chair. "I just thought I'd stop by to chat, see how you were doing . . ." her smile became impish, "if you need any help with your Christmas present. Not that I'd burst Dan's bubble for anything, but he does get carried away with those boxes sometimes."
"It's gorgeous," was the emphatic reply, and Alison's gaze flickered towards her desk, where the box lay in plain sight, "and yeah, I haven't quite managed to open it yet." She grinned sheepishly, rising to her feet and walking over to the desk to retrieve the box. "Not that I haven't tried..." she chuckled as she sat back down, fingertips trailing on the carefully carved wood slowly.
The box was, as far as could be determined from casual examination, a solid block of polished, carved oak, lavishly decorated with musical instruments and symbols; the top was almost perfectly smooth, featuring a brass-inlaid musical staff with a raised treble clef in white pine. No hinges or seams were visible.
Jo took it with a fond caress. "He does do good work, my Dan. Now, to open it, you simply have to know how he thinks--it should actually be a bit easier, since we know he made it especially for you; he'll have personalized the opening sequence."
Alison grinned, leaning her elbows on her knees as she watched ~ she'd barely managed to resist the urge to shake the box in an attempt to guess at what was concealed inside earlier, having spent an enjoyable while trying to find a way to open with Miles' help. "I did guess that you had to poke at stuff," she chuckled at the words, one finger pointing briefly at the musical staff. "Didn't get the right sequence, though."
Arthur: "Well, it's personalized, most likely, but probably in a subtle sort of way. Hmm." Jo poked at the box thoughtfully. "Now, there's a thought . . . remind me, it's been years since my last piano lesson, is it five sharps in B major?"
Alison grinned, and nodded. "Yup, it is." She leaned in, watching curiously, totally pleased with the idea of a handcrafted and personalized gift in so many ways. Especially with the knowledge that there was something in the box. "I've been dying to see what's in there."
"Ah, well." Jo smiled secretively. "Dan made the boxes, but I filled them. You'll just have to wait and see--ah, there we are." Jo's questing fingers--five near the clef, one further down the staff--were rewarded with a soft click, and the strip of wood underneath her right index finger slid smoothly three inches to the right, revealing a small recess containing a brass key. "A in the key of B. But we're not done yet, it seems. Where do you go, I wonder?"
Alison laughed in delight at the "key" to the first part in opening the box, and leaned foward, giving Jo a wink. "Well, I can think of one way to find that," she grinned, and lifted up one hand, waggling her fingers. "Lights ans shadows can reveal so many interesting things."
Jo returned the wink and offered the box. "Have at it, then, my dear, and welcome. It'll probably be something in the carvings on the sides."
Alison took the box with a gleeful smile, and propped it on her knees before placing her hand about five inches from the flat panel of wood, at an angle - and carefully lighting up, directing the light so that the shadows of the carvings were highlihghted even more strongly than usual, looking for a shape that matched the brass key itself.
There weren't any visible keyholes, but the strong light revealed that two of the carvings--a guitar and a pair of drumsticks, one on each side--had a subtly different grain than the rest of the box, and the changed shadows revealed smooth spaces next to them.
"Do you see?" Jo asked, pointing. "Levers, I'd say--probably locked in place while the key's hidden. Try pushing."
Making certain the key was out of the small compartment just in case it closed again, Alison settled the box firmly on her knees before doing just that, following Jo's intructions carefully with a clear look of anticipation gleaming in her eyes. "Fun fun fun," she murmured under her voice, before pressing both carvings carefully at the same time.
The carvings pivoted smoothly, and with another soft click, the clef on the lid slid back on hidden springs, revealing a small brass keyhole. "There you are," Jo told it warmly. "And if I know Dan, that'll be a combination lock. Try your birthday."
Alison couldn't help it, and laughed out at that, head tilting back for a moment before she looked down at the box again, feeling like a little girl opening a treasure box. "I think I'll do just that," she grinned, before suiting actions to words, smiling widely the entire time.
The lock clicked, and the lid opened, wafting the subtle scent of fine polished wood upward. Inside the box lay a rectangular bundle, wrapped in a blue-and-silver patterned silk scarf.
Taking her time to enjoy the scent, reminiscent of a new guitar taken out of its case for the first time, Alison closed her eyes for a moment. Reopening them, she wasted no time in picking up the bundle carefully, ooohing at the silk scarf as she unwrapped it. "This is beautiful," she murmured as the soft material ran through her fingers.
"Isn't it? I found it at a garage sale--something of a hobby of mine, you can find the most amazing things if you take the time to look. And the rest of it is--" Jo grinned. "I thought, with a little boy of your own now, you might appreciate some warning of what to expect."
The silken end of the scarf slid open, revealing what it had been holding together and Alison grinned at the sight of the pictures, one eyebrow going up slowly - humming to herself without really being aware of it, the lullaby that Miles preferred these days. "Oh dear," she laughed, startled, plucking one picture from the pile and shaking her head. "I'm guessing there's a story behind each one, mmm?"
Jo laughed. "There is, literally--turn the pictures over. I'd go hoarse before I told them all. At least your Miles is past the running-around-naked stage." Her smile grew a little sad. "If he had the chance for it at all, I suppose."
If there was any, it wasn't by choice. Mercifully, Alison managed to keep the thought to herself - more than one that she'd bit down on since Miles had arrived in her life. "We're working on catching up on things," she answered softly, turning another picture around and shaking her head with a small smile, reflecting that Jamie would positively die if he ever found out about this. When, rather.
"I think he's getting used to the food situation, at least. Slowly." She looked up, more than aware that Miles had found a very particular devotion for Jo, who let him tag along and watch when she cooked, as well as taste anything she had made since arriving, even putting up without fuss with his habit of making sure that anyone in the room got the same amount of food each time as well.
"I'm glad I could help," Jo says simply. "He's a little sweetheart. And from what Jamie's told me--which I don't delude myself is the whole story by any means--it's one of the true marvels of this world, that bright spirit surviving this long."
Alison's grip on the photograph she was holding tightening, though she didn't crumple the paper ~ a two year old Jamie leaning on a pumpking with a proprietary look, the huge vegetable actually bigger than he was. "He-" she stopped, taking a deep breath, trying to ignore the tears prickling at her eyes. "I have no clue how... I'm just starting to get a picture of everything, the tip of the iceberg and..." she stopped, shaking her head. "Miracles come in all forms."
"They do." Jo reached over to take Alison's free hand, squeezing comfortingly. "And you're one of his. And ours--I can't thank you enough for all you've done for Jamie since he came here."
Alison smiled at her words, the expression wavering only a bit although not in a bad way - just from a surfeit of emotions. "Jamie is a wonderful kid," she answered simply, finding far steadier footing on that particular subject. "He's - rewarded my faith in him as well, many times over."
"We were so relieved when the Professor returned our call, and his messages home were so happy--we did the best we could for him at home, but Jamie needs people." She sighed. "It never gets easier--just different kinds of hard. And watching them spread their wings and fly away is the hardest of all, I think, no matter how much you want to see it."
Alison nodded quietly, eyes shadowed - unable to repress the worry, because as much as she wanted to believe Miles would get to do that one day... she knew easy wouldn't be a part of it. "Different kinds of hard," she repeated, tilting her head to the side slightly, eyes glazing over in thought.
Jo blinked at her. "Oh dear, did I say something wrong?"
"Mmm. No," Alison replied absently, murmuring a few words under her breath, eyes still distant - the ghost of a smile on her lips. "Something right." She set the box down and scrambled off the bed, making a beeline for the desk, grabbing the nearest bit of paper she could find (a stack of enveloppes from cards she'd received and set up on the desk) and a pen, then plopped down to the ground unceremoniously, starting to scribble line after line on the paper without another word, nodding to herself absently as she noted down lyrics, scratched out a word now and then and replaced it before hurrying further down.
Jo's eyebrows shot up as she smiled in sudden realization, and she took her time replacing the pictures in the box, then reversing the elaborate procedure to close it before settling back in her chair to wait. She squelched the impulse to get up and try to read over Alison's shoulder, telling herself that that would certainly be a disruption, even if her mere presence wasn't.
And Jo would be treated to a rare treat indeed as Alison worked, the rough outline of the lyrics being set to paper in a matter of minutes - and after a few scrabbling motions, a keyboard being dragged out of the bed hurriedly as Alison hummed a few notes to herself, the song eager to be set to music.
Jo Madrox turned from a perfunctoray post-Christmas inspection of her son's room--surprisingly neat considering its inhabitants, although she made a note to remind Jamie to do his laundry more often--and smiled when she saw Alison's door, cracked open.
Taking that as an invitation--or at least not a disinvitation--she poked her head inside. "Alison?" she called, softly in case Miles was down for his nap. "Are you here, are you busy, are you decent?"
"I'm good," was the reply, a welcoming note held within. "Come on in," the volume of the voice indicating Miles wasn't sleeping at any rate along with the lack of cheerful boyish greeting indicating that he was likely off with one of the other kids, accepting to be detached from Alison a bit more frequently these days, it seemed.
"Wonderful." Jo breezed into the room and perched in an empty chair. "I just thought I'd stop by to chat, see how you were doing . . ." her smile became impish, "if you need any help with your Christmas present. Not that I'd burst Dan's bubble for anything, but he does get carried away with those boxes sometimes."
"It's gorgeous," was the emphatic reply, and Alison's gaze flickered towards her desk, where the box lay in plain sight, "and yeah, I haven't quite managed to open it yet." She grinned sheepishly, rising to her feet and walking over to the desk to retrieve the box. "Not that I haven't tried..." she chuckled as she sat back down, fingertips trailing on the carefully carved wood slowly.
The box was, as far as could be determined from casual examination, a solid block of polished, carved oak, lavishly decorated with musical instruments and symbols; the top was almost perfectly smooth, featuring a brass-inlaid musical staff with a raised treble clef in white pine. No hinges or seams were visible.
Jo took it with a fond caress. "He does do good work, my Dan. Now, to open it, you simply have to know how he thinks--it should actually be a bit easier, since we know he made it especially for you; he'll have personalized the opening sequence."
Alison grinned, leaning her elbows on her knees as she watched ~ she'd barely managed to resist the urge to shake the box in an attempt to guess at what was concealed inside earlier, having spent an enjoyable while trying to find a way to open with Miles' help. "I did guess that you had to poke at stuff," she chuckled at the words, one finger pointing briefly at the musical staff. "Didn't get the right sequence, though."
Arthur: "Well, it's personalized, most likely, but probably in a subtle sort of way. Hmm." Jo poked at the box thoughtfully. "Now, there's a thought . . . remind me, it's been years since my last piano lesson, is it five sharps in B major?"
Alison grinned, and nodded. "Yup, it is." She leaned in, watching curiously, totally pleased with the idea of a handcrafted and personalized gift in so many ways. Especially with the knowledge that there was something in the box. "I've been dying to see what's in there."
"Ah, well." Jo smiled secretively. "Dan made the boxes, but I filled them. You'll just have to wait and see--ah, there we are." Jo's questing fingers--five near the clef, one further down the staff--were rewarded with a soft click, and the strip of wood underneath her right index finger slid smoothly three inches to the right, revealing a small recess containing a brass key. "A in the key of B. But we're not done yet, it seems. Where do you go, I wonder?"
Alison laughed in delight at the "key" to the first part in opening the box, and leaned foward, giving Jo a wink. "Well, I can think of one way to find that," she grinned, and lifted up one hand, waggling her fingers. "Lights ans shadows can reveal so many interesting things."
Jo returned the wink and offered the box. "Have at it, then, my dear, and welcome. It'll probably be something in the carvings on the sides."
Alison took the box with a gleeful smile, and propped it on her knees before placing her hand about five inches from the flat panel of wood, at an angle - and carefully lighting up, directing the light so that the shadows of the carvings were highlihghted even more strongly than usual, looking for a shape that matched the brass key itself.
There weren't any visible keyholes, but the strong light revealed that two of the carvings--a guitar and a pair of drumsticks, one on each side--had a subtly different grain than the rest of the box, and the changed shadows revealed smooth spaces next to them.
"Do you see?" Jo asked, pointing. "Levers, I'd say--probably locked in place while the key's hidden. Try pushing."
Making certain the key was out of the small compartment just in case it closed again, Alison settled the box firmly on her knees before doing just that, following Jo's intructions carefully with a clear look of anticipation gleaming in her eyes. "Fun fun fun," she murmured under her voice, before pressing both carvings carefully at the same time.
The carvings pivoted smoothly, and with another soft click, the clef on the lid slid back on hidden springs, revealing a small brass keyhole. "There you are," Jo told it warmly. "And if I know Dan, that'll be a combination lock. Try your birthday."
Alison couldn't help it, and laughed out at that, head tilting back for a moment before she looked down at the box again, feeling like a little girl opening a treasure box. "I think I'll do just that," she grinned, before suiting actions to words, smiling widely the entire time.
The lock clicked, and the lid opened, wafting the subtle scent of fine polished wood upward. Inside the box lay a rectangular bundle, wrapped in a blue-and-silver patterned silk scarf.
Taking her time to enjoy the scent, reminiscent of a new guitar taken out of its case for the first time, Alison closed her eyes for a moment. Reopening them, she wasted no time in picking up the bundle carefully, ooohing at the silk scarf as she unwrapped it. "This is beautiful," she murmured as the soft material ran through her fingers.
"Isn't it? I found it at a garage sale--something of a hobby of mine, you can find the most amazing things if you take the time to look. And the rest of it is--" Jo grinned. "I thought, with a little boy of your own now, you might appreciate some warning of what to expect."
The silken end of the scarf slid open, revealing what it had been holding together and Alison grinned at the sight of the pictures, one eyebrow going up slowly - humming to herself without really being aware of it, the lullaby that Miles preferred these days. "Oh dear," she laughed, startled, plucking one picture from the pile and shaking her head. "I'm guessing there's a story behind each one, mmm?"
Jo laughed. "There is, literally--turn the pictures over. I'd go hoarse before I told them all. At least your Miles is past the running-around-naked stage." Her smile grew a little sad. "If he had the chance for it at all, I suppose."
If there was any, it wasn't by choice. Mercifully, Alison managed to keep the thought to herself - more than one that she'd bit down on since Miles had arrived in her life. "We're working on catching up on things," she answered softly, turning another picture around and shaking her head with a small smile, reflecting that Jamie would positively die if he ever found out about this. When, rather.
"I think he's getting used to the food situation, at least. Slowly." She looked up, more than aware that Miles had found a very particular devotion for Jo, who let him tag along and watch when she cooked, as well as taste anything she had made since arriving, even putting up without fuss with his habit of making sure that anyone in the room got the same amount of food each time as well.
"I'm glad I could help," Jo says simply. "He's a little sweetheart. And from what Jamie's told me--which I don't delude myself is the whole story by any means--it's one of the true marvels of this world, that bright spirit surviving this long."
Alison's grip on the photograph she was holding tightening, though she didn't crumple the paper ~ a two year old Jamie leaning on a pumpking with a proprietary look, the huge vegetable actually bigger than he was. "He-" she stopped, taking a deep breath, trying to ignore the tears prickling at her eyes. "I have no clue how... I'm just starting to get a picture of everything, the tip of the iceberg and..." she stopped, shaking her head. "Miracles come in all forms."
"They do." Jo reached over to take Alison's free hand, squeezing comfortingly. "And you're one of his. And ours--I can't thank you enough for all you've done for Jamie since he came here."
Alison smiled at her words, the expression wavering only a bit although not in a bad way - just from a surfeit of emotions. "Jamie is a wonderful kid," she answered simply, finding far steadier footing on that particular subject. "He's - rewarded my faith in him as well, many times over."
"We were so relieved when the Professor returned our call, and his messages home were so happy--we did the best we could for him at home, but Jamie needs people." She sighed. "It never gets easier--just different kinds of hard. And watching them spread their wings and fly away is the hardest of all, I think, no matter how much you want to see it."
Alison nodded quietly, eyes shadowed - unable to repress the worry, because as much as she wanted to believe Miles would get to do that one day... she knew easy wouldn't be a part of it. "Different kinds of hard," she repeated, tilting her head to the side slightly, eyes glazing over in thought.
Jo blinked at her. "Oh dear, did I say something wrong?"
"Mmm. No," Alison replied absently, murmuring a few words under her breath, eyes still distant - the ghost of a smile on her lips. "Something right." She set the box down and scrambled off the bed, making a beeline for the desk, grabbing the nearest bit of paper she could find (a stack of enveloppes from cards she'd received and set up on the desk) and a pen, then plopped down to the ground unceremoniously, starting to scribble line after line on the paper without another word, nodding to herself absently as she noted down lyrics, scratched out a word now and then and replaced it before hurrying further down.
Jo's eyebrows shot up as she smiled in sudden realization, and she took her time replacing the pictures in the box, then reversing the elaborate procedure to close it before settling back in her chair to wait. She squelched the impulse to get up and try to read over Alison's shoulder, telling herself that that would certainly be a disruption, even if her mere presence wasn't.
And Jo would be treated to a rare treat indeed as Alison worked, the rough outline of the lyrics being set to paper in a matter of minutes - and after a few scrabbling motions, a keyboard being dragged out of the bed hurriedly as Alison hummed a few notes to herself, the song eager to be set to music.
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Date: 2004-01-03 09:44 pm (UTC)I really need to kick this obscure-reference habit. But that actually might be pretty cool--we've heard a lot about how hard it was down there/finding everybody dead, it would be fun to give Sarah more opportunity to reminisce about the good times.
Although I dunno, between that and Shinobi people might start to think she's getting soft. ;)
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Date: 2004-01-04 02:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-06 10:52 am (UTC)Why yes, I am a big geek whose greatest excitement to date has been meeting Larry Elmore, why do you ask?