the one who survives;; (original) (raw)
22 December 2007 @ 10:23 am
[were anyone to go in and check on Raine in the morning, they would find the room neat and tidy. While some things may be missing, it might not be noticeable right away, as the room is normally neat and Raine could very well be somewhere else in the building. Though if one were to take a better look around (or in closets), they would notice little things being missing; some notes, small personal items, perhaps a change of clothing or two. If they've bothered to go through her stuff this much, they probably might have overlooked the piece of paper that's folded neatly on the endtable. But in the case that they find it and read it, this is what's there:]
[Unfortunately, there is a very large possibility that a certain person may get their hands on the letter first, so it may very well not be found!]
Current Mood: 
indescribable
27 September 2006 @ 10:01 pm
The sky hadn't been quite so overcast in the morning, when they had originally set out to go to Iselia and attend to their daily activies there, tending the ill and aiding the villagers, though it was more for the sake of routine these days.
Everything was for routine, in the end.
The clouds had begun to gather in the middle of the day, but there was no time to pay attention to the weather then, of course; there were still rounds to make, people to idly chat with, until those conversations became part of the routine was well; greetings, polite exchanges, goodbyes. Go through the motions. Did she even care, really. There were times when Raine felt so distant that she couldn't put a name to their face, even though she had seen them and spoke to them so many times before.
...And now they were almost back to the ranch, no different than usual. Except it was different, because it wasn't simply cloudy, it wasn't simply drizzling out, which had been so much easier to deal with... no, it was pouring, and they were utterly drenched, and cold -- it would have been comical had it not been so absurd, really; normally she wouldn't care; it wasn't as if this hadn't happened before, because surely it had, it was not as if thunderstorms were uncommon here.
She winced at the sound of the thunder, of course it was loud, even if it was the water that bothered her more.
Current Mood: blah
16 August 2006 @ 02:24 pm
Current Mood: 
determined
*sitting up in bed, idly picking at a salad that Seles brought up earlier and occasionally shifting through some papers*
...
This is ridiculous.
Current Mood: 
cold
...
*sets the paperwork neatly aside and starts petting the kitten, absently*
Current Mood: 
distressed
*goes to sit out in the lounge with her notes and Boltzman's book*
I suppose working over here couldn't hurt... everyone seems to spend their time outside as of late anyway.
Current Mood: numb
Raine normally did not put off doing something that needed to be done. Then again, if she were anywhere near normal, she wouldn't have to do this in the first place. She had put this off for a few days now; Seles would likely pester her about it soon, if she didn't get to it before the girl asked. Seles was especially shrewd these days; hardly missed anything. She knew that the girl was right; she had to confront this -- this whatever it was -- how long had it even been since she last took a stand for something?
Her hand was still shaking as she held the pen over the paper, not quite pressing it down yet. This was not something she wanted to do; it was something she needed to do and doing it meant accepting, for once, that what everyone was saying was true--but if there was someone else within her, would they even answer? Or would they mock her, make her think that everyone else was wrong; perhaps she was imagining it--still, this was an attempt at taking a step, a stand at something, even if it were for naught. She was tired of having no control over her life -- at least this was something she could deal with momentarily. If she ever did it.
"...this is utterly ridiculous..." She muttered to herself, dropping the pen down onto the page. She was exhausted from the lack of sleep, but the reasons for that were the least of her concerns at the moment; she needed to focus on this now. Her headache didn't help matters; as she debated, the pain grew worse and perhaps only strengthened her resolve to act, do something now, but she couldn't; one of her hands was pressed against her forehead, the other slowly curled around the pen... curled of it's own accord.
She was lying on her bed, her expression blank, the book she had been writing in tightly shut, her hands clenched around it to prevent it from opening--or to prevent her fingers from twisting, which they probably would have been if otherwise. The pen was on the floor near the door where she had finally flung it in some emotion that she couldn't place, was that just a few moments ago, or...? She couldn't tell. She had too many thoughts in her head and didn't have the first clue about organizing them. Which was difficult enough with the near-blinding headache.
Current Mood: 
drained
*sitting near the windowseat, with some papers scattered about and a cup of coffee nearby*
*looks very tired, rubbing her temples* ...
Current Mood: exhausted
...
*sitting down on her bed, face in her hands as she massages at her temples*
Current Mood: scared
14 February 2006 @ 01:06 am
*has been sneezing and coughing a bit since the last Flanoir visit*
*trying to work but not concentrating very well, sitting on the floor with a bunch of papers scattered around, her knees to her chest* ...
Current Mood: melancholy