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fandomhighdorms2009-05-30 06:19 pm
cutsthestrings.livejournal.com) wrote in fandomhighdorms2009-05-30 06:19 pm
Entry tags:
the roof - saturday night - 5/30
The roof seemed like the appropriate place to be. Her room was... well, there was the chance that Alex (her roommate, of course) might wander in. And it was filled with things, her things, things she didn't want to look at right now.
Instead, she fiddled with her phone, trying to get the text message that had been sitting there for two days open. She'd asked Dinah about it, but it just hadn't seemed right to ask her about it right now. Something was wrong and she didn't know what to do and blended up alligators aside, she was starting to feel stupid. Jokes she didn't get, sayings she didn't know, people letting go then holding tight, friends being awkward: she'd get this done or die trying.
*bing*
The number wasn't one she knew, but for some reason she could tell it was from a member of her family. After all, she hadn't told anyone her number yet and it wasn't as if anyone else would be able to manage something like that. The message itself.
Hope you got the card; you can use it without worrying. But watch what you do. Don't give them a reason to doubt you. They don't trust you. --D
The only member of her family that she could think of with that letter was her aunt Dallas, and considering the fact that her aunt had been one of the only ones fighting for them most of the time during Council deliberations, Fiona trusted her more than some of the others.
The card; it was good to know she could use it without consequences. She assumed that her aunt Dallas had some hand in running the Order of the Celestial Rose. It would make sense, considering some of her other titles.
They don't trust you.
She knew that, but it burned to see it written there in front of her, told to her outright by her aunt. She'd passed their stupid tests, killed one of their enemies, but no, she wasn't good enough. She'd never be good enough to really be one of them because of her mixed heritage.
Ashes. Everything tasted like ashes again and she didn't know what to do, who to talk to. If her aunt Dallas could find her to send her a message, she probably shouldn't call her father on this line, just the room phone. She shouldn't--
Fiona tugged at her hair and leaned against the edge of the roof, eyes closed.
This just wasn't her weekend.
[emo as a ro--I mean, open as a roof]
Instead, she fiddled with her phone, trying to get the text message that had been sitting there for two days open. She'd asked Dinah about it, but it just hadn't seemed right to ask her about it right now. Something was wrong and she didn't know what to do and blended up alligators aside, she was starting to feel stupid. Jokes she didn't get, sayings she didn't know, people letting go then holding tight, friends being awkward: she'd get this done or die trying.
*bing*
The number wasn't one she knew, but for some reason she could tell it was from a member of her family. After all, she hadn't told anyone her number yet and it wasn't as if anyone else would be able to manage something like that. The message itself.
Hope you got the card; you can use it without worrying. But watch what you do. Don't give them a reason to doubt you. They don't trust you. --D
The only member of her family that she could think of with that letter was her aunt Dallas, and considering the fact that her aunt had been one of the only ones fighting for them most of the time during Council deliberations, Fiona trusted her more than some of the others.
The card; it was good to know she could use it without consequences. She assumed that her aunt Dallas had some hand in running the Order of the Celestial Rose. It would make sense, considering some of her other titles.
They don't trust you.
She knew that, but it burned to see it written there in front of her, told to her outright by her aunt. She'd passed their stupid tests, killed one of their enemies, but no, she wasn't good enough. She'd never be good enough to really be one of them because of her mixed heritage.
Ashes. Everything tasted like ashes again and she didn't know what to do, who to talk to. If her aunt Dallas could find her to send her a message, she probably shouldn't call her father on this line, just the room phone. She shouldn't--
Fiona tugged at her hair and leaned against the edge of the roof, eyes closed.
This just wasn't her weekend.
[emo as a ro--I mean, open as a roof]
no subject
no subject
Pause.
"Is there anything I can do in return?"
no subject
"Can you hold my hand? Just for a few minutes?"
no subject
no subject
Feeling. Touching someone let her feel so much easier.
"Thanks."
no subject
"You're welcome."