There's Got To Be A Morning After (Sept 9)
Jul 11, 2018 11:35:34 GMT -6
Post by Snick on Jul 11, 2018 11:35:34 GMT -6
The world hadn't ended.
That was the way of things -- The world didn't care about your tragedies or traumas, time wouldn't stop turning long enough for you to cope, it just kept on moving, and if you didn't move on along with it, it left you behind, wallowing in whatever it was you were wallowing in, and went on about itself.
The cafeteria had been cleaned sometime in the early morning, and not by any of the pranksters who had been busted the night before, much to Mr. Glassman's dismay. Mr. Llewellyn had gone over the scene with a fine-toothed comb and had found no real evidence to identify Siobhan's kidnappers, but that didn't mean he was done looking, not by a longshot.
It was all back to normal in time for breakfast to be served, and the smell of hearty food began to creep out of the cafeteria to entice students into its welcoming arms.
But those who found themselves heading to the cafeteria would find themselves confronted by a rather ominous sight -- The Throckwattle House had appeared on the island again, and this time, it didn't seem to be in a rush to fade away or disappear. It was staying right where it was.
Walker noted this as he made his way down to the cafeteria, and served himself up a generous breakfast that could feed at least five firsties. He always came to breakfast early, right after his morning run, and he brought a hefty appetite with him. He was curious to see how the day would turn out after such a fraught night.
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The short amount of sleep Elizabeta managed that night was deep and surprisingly restful. Once awake she did her morning routine quickly and dressed in casual but quality clothing. Elizabeta didn't expect she would be heading into town as she had originally planned before the kidnapping of a student so she didn't dress for a day on the town. Instead she dressed in more what she would wear if she expected to spend time outdoors, possibly even riding.
She made her her wand was easy to access and also included the pocket knife she liked to have when on the Dragon Reserve. It was something she rarely wore at school but given recent events she didn't want to be just armed with a wand. The pocket knife had a few useful features which could become handy, not that she expected any body to try to kidnap her.
As she crossed the grounds towards the cafeteria she saw the Throckwattle House was still very much solid. It was odd for it to linger so long yet she was still convinced the Lighthouse might have a way to control its presence and was keeping it around to punish those who kidnapped one of its Keepers. Elizabeta very much wanted to learn more about these magical buildings and not just because she had to make good with her Legacy Adviser for a foolish error on her part, but because her innate curiosity was peaked.
Right now her attention was focused more on one thing, getting to the cafeteria to eat a hearty breakfast. Entering the cafeteria she inhaled the welcome scent of food and quickly moved into line with a few other early risers. She spotted Walker already heading for a table, his tray laden with food. She ordered her much smaller portion of food and decided to sit with him.
"Good Morning Walker." She greeted him and indicated the seat across from him. "Mind if I join you?"
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Walker motioned to the seat across from him, nodding as he worked on the first of two bowls of oatmeal that he had brought with him. "Sure thing." He said, looking up to study her. "How did you sleep last night?" He asked, wondering if perhaps she did have some interesting dreams about having him kiss her in just the way she wanted him to. If she did, it would certainly add to the non-existant mystique that surrounded him, but then, everyone seemed to think that all Native Americans were mystical, noble and wise and all the other sorts of BS that they saw in Dances With Wolves.
Maybe they were, back in the day, but now? A century and a quarter on reservations had wiped out a lot of the traditions that they held to, especially the magical ones. Most of the old ways were dead, and the ones they still kept alive were nothing really secret. At least, not to anyone who cared enough to look into them.
Some people had looked into them during the sixties, but only from an entheogenic point of view. Taking peyote, salvia and magic mushrooms to try to achieve some sort of spiritual oneness, but Walker's people weren't peyote cultists, and rarely used the stuff. Hell, it was a bunch of psychoactive day-trippers who turned the Throckwattle house into the living nightmare that it was now.
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"I slept quite well." Elizabeta replied, placing her tray on the table and taking a seat across from Walker. "I had expected to spend the rest of the light too distracted by the events which occurred last night but my sleep was deep and peaceful. Not very long but more restful than I expected."
"How was your sleep?" She asked in return, then cut into the grapefruit half she choose to start her breakfast with. On her plate was also a small bowl of porridge and some whole grain toast, no butter. A serving of peanut butter and whole fruit jam was waiting to be added to the toast.
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Esther showed up for breakfast. She had wanted to just eat at BTP, like she usually did on the weekends, but she thought she should show up at the cafeteria for support, and because she hoped the lighthouse keepers would be around. But she saw no sign of them. Siobhan was probably keeping a low profile. Not that she blamed her. Poor girl. She wanted to see her and give her a great big hug.
She looked for someone to sit with. No, she did not want to sit with 'Beta and Walker. She grabbed a breakfast of yogurt, granola, and a banana--things that would go easily on her stomach, which was bothering her after last night's excitement, and took a carton of milk, then found herself a table near the window. She wanted to see if any of the keepers were coming.
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"I see." Whether he was disappointed or not, Walker didn't show any feelings on the matter. "I slept fairly well." He told her, since he rarely got insomnia, even when troubled. Part of the joys of being raised on a farm, he usually slept well. He still suffered from things like nightmares and the like, but part of what his people kept from the old ways were techniques for facing nightmares.
He glanced in Esther's direction as the girl entered, his eyes lingering for a moment, and then he turned back towards his breakfast, digging his fork into one of the sausages on his plate. "What did you want to do today? Go riding, maybe?" He asked before biting into the sausage. Riding sounded good to him. Peaceful. "Oh..." he said, once he'd finished off that mouthful. "That reminds me, are you able to see Thestrals?"
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"I am glad you slept well." Elizabeta replied then took a bite of grapefruit. She noticed Esther walk in and get breakfast then took her a seat all by herself. As far as Elizabeta could tell, Esther avoided even acknowledging she was there. Shrugging she focused on the far more important company Elizabeta was with.
"Going riding will be perfect, I was thinking of suggesting the very thing." Elizabeta enjoyed riding, whether it was horses, winged horses, hippogryffs or even griffins. "As for seeing Thestrals, I can't see them. I haven't had the misfortune to see somebody die."
Seeing death was something Elizabeta doubted would bother her. She fed rodents to her snake, mostly prekilled to avoid risk to Eclipse as sometimes she didn't always get herself coiled around her food properly. Her snake pet constantly complained about having to strike and coil around something that was already dead but Elizabeta long ago convinced Elizabeta it was better this way.
"If you want to ride Thestrals, that will be fine with me. I am not worried at all about riding something I cannot see. Besides, it will give an excellent view of the grounds and surrounding areas. Or even go to town if the faculty haven't banned such a trip due to last night's events."
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Patrick waited until Iris was up, then showered, got dressed and headed off to breakfast, hoping to have additional news. Unfortunately, not many people had arrived yet. He grabbed what he thought would be a parent approved, balanced breakfast--eggs, bacon, fruit, milk, and toast, then growing disgusted with himself for being such a pleaser, rebelliously threw a jumbo cinnamon roll on his tray before he looked for someone to sit with. Esther Black was alone for a change, so he made his way to her table. Too bad she was nearly three years older than him, or he'd try to be more than friends.
"You look like you could use some company," he said, sitting across from her. "Any more news? Other than she's okay?"
"I dunno," she answered . . . "I was hoping Makepeace would be here."
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"My family raises thestrals, so I'm used to riding them." He said quietly, starting in on the second bowl of oatmeal. "I wouldn't have been able to see them, either, 'cept that my great grandfather was in..." His brows knitted as he tried to remember the word. It wasn't one he used a lot. "Hospice? He died. It..." He shook his head slightly, frowned. It didn't bother him that Pop-Pop died, and it was an honor to be there for his passing moments, or so he was told, but it bothered him that the man died surrounded by white walls and people who didn't really care about him just hovering over him waiting for him to kick off and clear up the bed he was occupying.
"We can ride pretty much anything, I'm just best with thestrals." He said, redirecting the discussion from his brush with death.
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Elizabeta wished one didn't have to see another human being die just to be able to view a Thestral but that was the nature of the creature. Most creatures couldn't be seen at all by Muggles. The idea of flying a beast she couldn't see didn't bother her however.
"It must have been hard for you to witness your grandfather's death, it sounds like you were quite young when it happened." She reached over and touched his hand briefly as a sign of comfort before moving it back to her side of the table.
"We can ride together on a thestral, it will be nice to see the island from the air." The idea of sharing a steed with Walker appealed to her. Once again Elizabeta reminded herself to be careful with this one. The physical attraction was just that, physical and it will not go anywhere. However she needed to keep his interest so she can learn more about his experiences with the Lighthouse. Far better source than the new Lighthouse keepers who probably know next to nothing about it at this point.
"When will you like to go for our ride?" Elizabeta asked.
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"It was only hard because of the way he died." Walker said distractedly. "Lingering." It would have been easier for Walker and his family to accept the man's death if it had been quicker. Not a slow death by cancer. "I was four." And, as long as he lived, the memories of that ghoulish place would haunt him. The way it smelled, the loss of dignity for honored elders, the sadness and the loneliness. "Don't understand why we can put down animals if they're suffering and call it humane, but we can't do the same for people."
"We can go after we finish breakfast." He suggested, attacking a piece of toast. Talking about the hospice had turned his stomach a little, but not enough to stop him from finishing his breakfast.
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A slow lingering death is often how older people end up dying but Walker did bring up an interesting point. Animals who are too sick or too injured to recover were simply humanely put down. But to do so with human life was considered murder. Even if the person dying of an incurable disease like cancer or various magical diseases requests a quick death, it was a huge moral issue and often against the law.
"Human life is considered far more sacred than that of any animal." Elizabeta comments after finishing her grapefruit. "Or at least that is the general consensus I expect. Personally I think not all human life is more sacred than some animals and if a human is suffering then it should be their choice if they want to end peacefully or not."
"Right after we are done breakfast works for me." She agrees, glad to have the subject changed from a less morbid topic. Not that death particularly bothered her but she suspected it wasn't one appealing to Walker at all. Perhaps we will see Professor McKay down at the stable and we can learn whether we can got to town today. Thestrals being invisible it will be easy to leave it outside of town and walk into Salem without alarming the Muggles."
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"I'm too worried to eat much, I'm afraid. I'm not good company this morning. I was hoping to hear more. Makepeace said she was okay. That she was sent right to your brother's arms." Esther looked out the window again, checking again for Makepeace.
She looked at Patrick and decided as long as they were here together at breakfast, she might as well give him some unsolicited advice. "You and your brother should try harder. He's a goofball, but the lighthouse trusts him. You need to turn off the player act more often. You come on a little strong. I saw you with Iris last night though . . . you're a good big brother."
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"Then we have a funny way of honoring that which is sacred." Walker said. He didn't know what his forefathers would have done if one of their respected elders were dying slowly and painfully, but then, their ways were mostly dead anyhow.
"I sent McKay an owl before my morning run. He approved my request to take a couple of the animals for a ride." Which was a time saver, really. "He says, as long as we don't try anything funny, we're good to go." Funny such as trying to sneak off for sex or something.
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It wasn't long before the man Esther was looking for wandered in, checking out what was behind the counter for breakfast and settling on an english muffin and some hash browns. He also paused at the breakfast counter to open up his portfolio, flip up a panel inside and pull out his coffee cup, which he set on the tray. Pressing a button on the handle, he glanced around the room and spotted Esther trying to catch his eye, and walked on over.
By the time he got there, the cup had filled with steaming-hot coffee. "Good morning, Esther, Patrick." There were dark circles under his eyes, but he was as neatly groomed as always, if a little worse for wear thanks to the events of the night before.
That was the way of things -- The world didn't care about your tragedies or traumas, time wouldn't stop turning long enough for you to cope, it just kept on moving, and if you didn't move on along with it, it left you behind, wallowing in whatever it was you were wallowing in, and went on about itself.
The cafeteria had been cleaned sometime in the early morning, and not by any of the pranksters who had been busted the night before, much to Mr. Glassman's dismay. Mr. Llewellyn had gone over the scene with a fine-toothed comb and had found no real evidence to identify Siobhan's kidnappers, but that didn't mean he was done looking, not by a longshot.
It was all back to normal in time for breakfast to be served, and the smell of hearty food began to creep out of the cafeteria to entice students into its welcoming arms.
But those who found themselves heading to the cafeteria would find themselves confronted by a rather ominous sight -- The Throckwattle House had appeared on the island again, and this time, it didn't seem to be in a rush to fade away or disappear. It was staying right where it was.
Walker noted this as he made his way down to the cafeteria, and served himself up a generous breakfast that could feed at least five firsties. He always came to breakfast early, right after his morning run, and he brought a hefty appetite with him. He was curious to see how the day would turn out after such a fraught night.
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The short amount of sleep Elizabeta managed that night was deep and surprisingly restful. Once awake she did her morning routine quickly and dressed in casual but quality clothing. Elizabeta didn't expect she would be heading into town as she had originally planned before the kidnapping of a student so she didn't dress for a day on the town. Instead she dressed in more what she would wear if she expected to spend time outdoors, possibly even riding.
She made her her wand was easy to access and also included the pocket knife she liked to have when on the Dragon Reserve. It was something she rarely wore at school but given recent events she didn't want to be just armed with a wand. The pocket knife had a few useful features which could become handy, not that she expected any body to try to kidnap her.
As she crossed the grounds towards the cafeteria she saw the Throckwattle House was still very much solid. It was odd for it to linger so long yet she was still convinced the Lighthouse might have a way to control its presence and was keeping it around to punish those who kidnapped one of its Keepers. Elizabeta very much wanted to learn more about these magical buildings and not just because she had to make good with her Legacy Adviser for a foolish error on her part, but because her innate curiosity was peaked.
Right now her attention was focused more on one thing, getting to the cafeteria to eat a hearty breakfast. Entering the cafeteria she inhaled the welcome scent of food and quickly moved into line with a few other early risers. She spotted Walker already heading for a table, his tray laden with food. She ordered her much smaller portion of food and decided to sit with him.
"Good Morning Walker." She greeted him and indicated the seat across from him. "Mind if I join you?"
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Walker motioned to the seat across from him, nodding as he worked on the first of two bowls of oatmeal that he had brought with him. "Sure thing." He said, looking up to study her. "How did you sleep last night?" He asked, wondering if perhaps she did have some interesting dreams about having him kiss her in just the way she wanted him to. If she did, it would certainly add to the non-existant mystique that surrounded him, but then, everyone seemed to think that all Native Americans were mystical, noble and wise and all the other sorts of BS that they saw in Dances With Wolves.
Maybe they were, back in the day, but now? A century and a quarter on reservations had wiped out a lot of the traditions that they held to, especially the magical ones. Most of the old ways were dead, and the ones they still kept alive were nothing really secret. At least, not to anyone who cared enough to look into them.
Some people had looked into them during the sixties, but only from an entheogenic point of view. Taking peyote, salvia and magic mushrooms to try to achieve some sort of spiritual oneness, but Walker's people weren't peyote cultists, and rarely used the stuff. Hell, it was a bunch of psychoactive day-trippers who turned the Throckwattle house into the living nightmare that it was now.
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"I slept quite well." Elizabeta replied, placing her tray on the table and taking a seat across from Walker. "I had expected to spend the rest of the light too distracted by the events which occurred last night but my sleep was deep and peaceful. Not very long but more restful than I expected."
"How was your sleep?" She asked in return, then cut into the grapefruit half she choose to start her breakfast with. On her plate was also a small bowl of porridge and some whole grain toast, no butter. A serving of peanut butter and whole fruit jam was waiting to be added to the toast.
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Esther showed up for breakfast. She had wanted to just eat at BTP, like she usually did on the weekends, but she thought she should show up at the cafeteria for support, and because she hoped the lighthouse keepers would be around. But she saw no sign of them. Siobhan was probably keeping a low profile. Not that she blamed her. Poor girl. She wanted to see her and give her a great big hug.
She looked for someone to sit with. No, she did not want to sit with 'Beta and Walker. She grabbed a breakfast of yogurt, granola, and a banana--things that would go easily on her stomach, which was bothering her after last night's excitement, and took a carton of milk, then found herself a table near the window. She wanted to see if any of the keepers were coming.
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"I see." Whether he was disappointed or not, Walker didn't show any feelings on the matter. "I slept fairly well." He told her, since he rarely got insomnia, even when troubled. Part of the joys of being raised on a farm, he usually slept well. He still suffered from things like nightmares and the like, but part of what his people kept from the old ways were techniques for facing nightmares.
He glanced in Esther's direction as the girl entered, his eyes lingering for a moment, and then he turned back towards his breakfast, digging his fork into one of the sausages on his plate. "What did you want to do today? Go riding, maybe?" He asked before biting into the sausage. Riding sounded good to him. Peaceful. "Oh..." he said, once he'd finished off that mouthful. "That reminds me, are you able to see Thestrals?"
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"I am glad you slept well." Elizabeta replied then took a bite of grapefruit. She noticed Esther walk in and get breakfast then took her a seat all by herself. As far as Elizabeta could tell, Esther avoided even acknowledging she was there. Shrugging she focused on the far more important company Elizabeta was with.
"Going riding will be perfect, I was thinking of suggesting the very thing." Elizabeta enjoyed riding, whether it was horses, winged horses, hippogryffs or even griffins. "As for seeing Thestrals, I can't see them. I haven't had the misfortune to see somebody die."
Seeing death was something Elizabeta doubted would bother her. She fed rodents to her snake, mostly prekilled to avoid risk to Eclipse as sometimes she didn't always get herself coiled around her food properly. Her snake pet constantly complained about having to strike and coil around something that was already dead but Elizabeta long ago convinced Elizabeta it was better this way.
"If you want to ride Thestrals, that will be fine with me. I am not worried at all about riding something I cannot see. Besides, it will give an excellent view of the grounds and surrounding areas. Or even go to town if the faculty haven't banned such a trip due to last night's events."
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Patrick waited until Iris was up, then showered, got dressed and headed off to breakfast, hoping to have additional news. Unfortunately, not many people had arrived yet. He grabbed what he thought would be a parent approved, balanced breakfast--eggs, bacon, fruit, milk, and toast, then growing disgusted with himself for being such a pleaser, rebelliously threw a jumbo cinnamon roll on his tray before he looked for someone to sit with. Esther Black was alone for a change, so he made his way to her table. Too bad she was nearly three years older than him, or he'd try to be more than friends.
"You look like you could use some company," he said, sitting across from her. "Any more news? Other than she's okay?"
"I dunno," she answered . . . "I was hoping Makepeace would be here."
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"My family raises thestrals, so I'm used to riding them." He said quietly, starting in on the second bowl of oatmeal. "I wouldn't have been able to see them, either, 'cept that my great grandfather was in..." His brows knitted as he tried to remember the word. It wasn't one he used a lot. "Hospice? He died. It..." He shook his head slightly, frowned. It didn't bother him that Pop-Pop died, and it was an honor to be there for his passing moments, or so he was told, but it bothered him that the man died surrounded by white walls and people who didn't really care about him just hovering over him waiting for him to kick off and clear up the bed he was occupying.
"We can ride pretty much anything, I'm just best with thestrals." He said, redirecting the discussion from his brush with death.
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Elizabeta wished one didn't have to see another human being die just to be able to view a Thestral but that was the nature of the creature. Most creatures couldn't be seen at all by Muggles. The idea of flying a beast she couldn't see didn't bother her however.
"It must have been hard for you to witness your grandfather's death, it sounds like you were quite young when it happened." She reached over and touched his hand briefly as a sign of comfort before moving it back to her side of the table.
"We can ride together on a thestral, it will be nice to see the island from the air." The idea of sharing a steed with Walker appealed to her. Once again Elizabeta reminded herself to be careful with this one. The physical attraction was just that, physical and it will not go anywhere. However she needed to keep his interest so she can learn more about his experiences with the Lighthouse. Far better source than the new Lighthouse keepers who probably know next to nothing about it at this point.
"When will you like to go for our ride?" Elizabeta asked.
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"It was only hard because of the way he died." Walker said distractedly. "Lingering." It would have been easier for Walker and his family to accept the man's death if it had been quicker. Not a slow death by cancer. "I was four." And, as long as he lived, the memories of that ghoulish place would haunt him. The way it smelled, the loss of dignity for honored elders, the sadness and the loneliness. "Don't understand why we can put down animals if they're suffering and call it humane, but we can't do the same for people."
"We can go after we finish breakfast." He suggested, attacking a piece of toast. Talking about the hospice had turned his stomach a little, but not enough to stop him from finishing his breakfast.
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A slow lingering death is often how older people end up dying but Walker did bring up an interesting point. Animals who are too sick or too injured to recover were simply humanely put down. But to do so with human life was considered murder. Even if the person dying of an incurable disease like cancer or various magical diseases requests a quick death, it was a huge moral issue and often against the law.
"Human life is considered far more sacred than that of any animal." Elizabeta comments after finishing her grapefruit. "Or at least that is the general consensus I expect. Personally I think not all human life is more sacred than some animals and if a human is suffering then it should be their choice if they want to end peacefully or not."
"Right after we are done breakfast works for me." She agrees, glad to have the subject changed from a less morbid topic. Not that death particularly bothered her but she suspected it wasn't one appealing to Walker at all. Perhaps we will see Professor McKay down at the stable and we can learn whether we can got to town today. Thestrals being invisible it will be easy to leave it outside of town and walk into Salem without alarming the Muggles."
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"I'm too worried to eat much, I'm afraid. I'm not good company this morning. I was hoping to hear more. Makepeace said she was okay. That she was sent right to your brother's arms." Esther looked out the window again, checking again for Makepeace.
She looked at Patrick and decided as long as they were here together at breakfast, she might as well give him some unsolicited advice. "You and your brother should try harder. He's a goofball, but the lighthouse trusts him. You need to turn off the player act more often. You come on a little strong. I saw you with Iris last night though . . . you're a good big brother."
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"Then we have a funny way of honoring that which is sacred." Walker said. He didn't know what his forefathers would have done if one of their respected elders were dying slowly and painfully, but then, their ways were mostly dead anyhow.
"I sent McKay an owl before my morning run. He approved my request to take a couple of the animals for a ride." Which was a time saver, really. "He says, as long as we don't try anything funny, we're good to go." Funny such as trying to sneak off for sex or something.
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It wasn't long before the man Esther was looking for wandered in, checking out what was behind the counter for breakfast and settling on an english muffin and some hash browns. He also paused at the breakfast counter to open up his portfolio, flip up a panel inside and pull out his coffee cup, which he set on the tray. Pressing a button on the handle, he glanced around the room and spotted Esther trying to catch his eye, and walked on over.
By the time he got there, the cup had filled with steaming-hot coffee. "Good morning, Esther, Patrick." There were dark circles under his eyes, but he was as neatly groomed as always, if a little worse for wear thanks to the events of the night before.
