foxgloev

[foxgloev]

These motions were, supposedly and perhaps, on any other day or given any other circumstance, experimentally, meant to represent and present comfort. The ladling of soup, a demonstration of calm and well - ordered nerves; the immediacy of their speech, a sign of confidence and know - how. There was no room in this house for panic tonight and any attempt to graduate the general nervousness to a panic would be cut off cold. Everyone above them could pace and wring their wrinkled hands anxiously, barely avoiding spitting on each other as they exchanged harsh, hoarse whispers. . . but that was it, the limit. Meanwhile, the heart, soul, and mind of this noble house stayed steady, if not somewhat solemn; Jade had every intention of following and keeping to her lead.

HEAVY IS THE HEAD THAT WEARS THE CROWN,

but the crown wasn't hers yet and besides, it wasn't Olga's head she was worried about now. If there was ever a certainty to augment this carefully coaxed comfort, it was that Olga could take care of her own mind just fine. Tonight, however, the house felt cold. All those company men milling about upstairs, trying to keep quiet, trying to hide their intentions and impatience, warped the familiar bones of this house; the corridors no longer felt right, twisting and turning, narrowing and widening, until Jade herself felt like she was a ghost, out of place and out of time. This was how she'd known she'd find Olga all the way down here, tucked away. Sitting down next to her, Jade tucked her friend in further, another warm body between her and the terror above and outside this quiet place.

" I saw both of them. Said hi to both. " She offered no elaboration. " One of the nurses told me a doctor, different, better, than the ones here now, is on the way. Anyone I would know? "

The rain had not stopped. It seemed even louder here in the cellar kitchen, where the vibrations of the downpour, and the creaks and moans of the large old manor all gathered with nowhere else to run. Under other circumstances, the constant drumming of the rain against the windows would've been soothing; insulating, to the say the least. But there was no calm tonight. Only quiet. A disrespectful, suspicious sort of hush. The general lack of bustle and the refusal of anyone in this home to speak at a normal volume made it all so much worse. It feels like a fucking funeral home.

It was easy to hear Jade coming down in the silence; even the master thief could not hide in this nothingness. Olga was only glad that when her friend finally rounded the corner, she did not have flowers in hand. What she had, instead, was a overnight bag. Olga set down her spoon softly, allowing it to lean against the lip of the soup bowl as Jade walked up to the island, setting the bag on one of the stools.

WHAT'S THE WORD? / @foxgloev

" My mother's stable, but has yet to regain consciousness. My father's... touch and go. " She licked her lips and pressed the cloth napkin to her mouth. According to the physicians, there was hope. According to the board members, doom was assured. " Have you been in to see them? " Eyes tracked the tall woman as she made her way around, features softened in the single yellow stove light, and helped herself to some food. " Have you heard anything? "

[foxgloev]

“People don’t understand the word ruthless. They think it means ‘mean.’ It’s not about being mean. It’s about seeing the bright, clear line that leads from A to B. The line that goes from motive to means. Beginning to end. It’s about seeing that bright, clear line and not caring about anything but the beautiful fact that you can see the solution. Not caring about anything else but the perfection of it.”

- Marco, Book #30: The Reunion, pg. 71 (by K.A. Applegate)

[foxgloev]

[foxgloev]

The air in the greenhouse was almost muggy. Jade made a mental note to check on the moisture and temperature controls herself when she had a moment free. Outside this small green sanctuary, trees and blooms were preparing for dormancy. They were not quite on the cusp of winter just yet, but when each day seemed to pass in less than the known twenty - four hours, it was hard not to look too far ahead and swear the taste of fresh frost was already in the air. The wedding was just around the corner now. It was no time to play coy any longer.

With her arms crossed over her chest, Jade followed Vi about with her gaze, giving the other woman a pointed look as she tried to evade the question. It's taken her some immense effort to keep herself from feeling pity for the young heiress; she knew how Vivianne would despise it and, by extension, her. She, instead, turned her pity towards the tulips, watching as Vivianne poured and poured into the damp soil. It wasn't hard to imagine that outpouring as something other than water.

...SO, WHY ARE YOU PLAYING THE DEVIL'S ADVOCATE? / @rosetem, CONT.

The ghost of a smile appeared on Jade's lips. She fought against a full, smarmy smile; Lucille had suggested to her, recently and none too subtly, that she might try for a little sensitivity moving forward. Liam Quinn was a lot of things, but a devil, he was not. If she was an advocate for anything or anyone, it was their team and the sense of belonging it offered. " It's because we don't get along that you should believe me when I tell you that he does care about you. He wants to help, he just doesn't know how. " Jade reached out and gently laid her hand on Vivianne's wrist, prompting her to stop drowning the poor tulips. The pot was only a few seconds away from overflowing.

" Don't give up on yourself. And don't give up on him either. He would follow you to the ends of the earth, Vi, but only if he knew you wanted him to. Does that---- Am I making sense? "

[foxgloev]

Carlos Ruiz Zafón, The Shadow of the Wind

[foxgloev]