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pineslog2017-04-07 09:51 pm
theycalledmeacurse) wrote in pineslog2017-04-07 09:51 pm
So fill up your lungs and just run... [open + closed]
Who: Marie (Rogue) + You!
Where: WP Academy, Main Street locations, her neighborhood, etc.
When: The month of April
What: Getting used to the town, meeting people, maybe a tiny bit of snooping
Warnings: Will update as needed
Note: I'll match your style, brackets or prose. Here's her Pines Info.
[Open + Closed]
Wandering @ Her Neighborhood
Friday, April 7 - Open, especially to neighbors
Was it weird to walk through your own neighborhood staring at other people's houses?
It was a thought that did cross Marie's mind more than once as she slowly strolled along the sidewalks, past house after house. Some were empty and silent, bearing no names on the mailboxes as her own did, while others had life teeming within them. Families getting ready for dinner, children playing in the backyard. The odd thing was, even those empty houses were filled with furniture, as if waiting for their families to come back and claim them. No matter how many flower beds she climbed through to get close enough to windows to peer inside, each one was the same. Furnished, decorated, lifeless.
Hopefully no one called the police on her for snooping.
Running & Donuts @ Around Town
Saturday, April 8 - Open
The sun was only just coming up as Marie left the house, moving as quietly as she could in the hopes of not waking up her roommates. The air was crisp and she shivered slightly in her green running pants and long-sleeved shirt. She stretched for a minutes on the front lawn before setting off on her run.
Well, it was more walking with a hint of running every now and then. Even a slow jog left her gasping for breath, like she hadn't done anything more than lay around for years rather than the few days she'd been trying to recover from the accident. Like most things in her life, it didn't make one bit of sense, but what was she going to do about it other than struggle through the grueling process of getting back into shape?
After a few turns around the surrounding neighborhoods, she'd head down Main Street and stop in at Hurts's Donuts to pick up breakfast for the house.
Shopping @ French's General Store
Sunday, April 9 - Open
Sunday was the day for grocery shopping. It was what she'd grown up with and it was what she followed now in the hopes of finding something like comfort in the old ritual that left her battling other Sunday shoppers for elbow space in the aisles. She was covered in a large grey knit sweater and jeans, gloves and a scarf, and her striped hair down for added measure. There were going to be absolutely no accidents, she'd promised herself, and she was determined on that point.
Still, it was awfully tempting to zap Mrs. Lanahan when she went for the last bottle of chocolate sauce.
Faculty Bonding @ School
Monday, April 10 - Closed to Fellow Teachers
The first day back had been... overwhelming, to put it mildly. She'd taught three classes that day, all different levels of French, and while she remembered the language perfectly, she'd struggled through the syllabi and lesson plans that she'd supposedly planned out at the start of the semester. Those she didn't remember at all, and she'd stumbled over more than one thing in each class. Add in her awkwardness with students who remembered her when she didn't quite remember them, remeeting her colleagues who she only vaguely recalled, and the general physical drain of being in front of people for hours and, well, she was pretty damn tired.
It was the early afternoon when her last class finished and she retreated to the faculty lounge, where there was a half-empty pot of questionable coffee that she eyed for a good thirty seconds before pouring herself a small mug. Desperate times called for terrible coffee. She flopped herself down in a chair at one of the tables before setting her mug aside and laying her head down on the table. She would lay there for a while, drink the foul coffee, and eventually haul out her lesson plans for the next few days to properly review.
Office Hours @ Java Joe's
Tuesday, April 11 - Open, especially to students
Office hours. The idea made her think of all the visits she'd made to crammed little offices back in college, chatting with her professors about theories, going over assignments, and eventually asking for recommendations when she'd applied for jobs. It had been intimidating at times, and that was why she'd decided to hold her own office hours in a place where her students might feel comfortable - a coffee shop.
Twice a week, she took over a table at the side of the room and settled in for two hours. During that time students could stop by to ask questions, go over assignments, or just talk. She remembered the first few times had been mostly sitting by herself and drinking her weight in caffeine, but after a couple weeks the students had started coming. Even the ones who weren't in her classes anymore would stop by sometimes to catch up on life.
So as awkward as she still felt in front of the classes of teenagers she only half-remembered, Marie had wanted to carry on this practice, and she'd heard from a handful of students already that they would be by that evening.
Fortunate Accidents @ School
Friday, April 14 - Closed to Bucky Barnes
Had Friday always taken this long to come around, or had this week just been exceedingly long? Each day had dragged more than the last as Marie had struggled to adjust to her new-old life, getting back into the groove of things that she still only half-remembered. By the end of her last class, she was so completely out of sorts that she managed to spill her lunchtime coffee all over her white sweater.
Shit.
For half a second, she debated her options. If she waited until she got home, the sweater would probably be a lost cause, but if she worked on it now-- Decision made, she hurried down the hall, dodging the few straggling students who hadn't yet made it to the cafeteria. The art room was closer and had some decent-sized sinks for cleanup, so she slipped inside and made a beeline for one that wasn't stained with paint, tugging off the sweater as she went and stuffing gloves into her pockets. The camisole she'd worn underneath did a good job of keeping her decent, but with her arms and shoulders bared, she was just tempting fate to send a student rushing into the room. Waiting for the universe to cause another 'accident'.
She didn't even think about the tattoo on her arm that was bared, or the still-healing scars that were partially visible on her back. Her focus was on rinsing out the material as quickly as she could without running into anyone.
You Choose @ Main Street
Any day, you make the call
Not seeing what you want? Choose your own adventure! Rogue will wander through Main Street at least twice a day, aimlessly or with purpose depending on the location.
Where: WP Academy, Main Street locations, her neighborhood, etc.
When: The month of April
What: Getting used to the town, meeting people, maybe a tiny bit of snooping
Warnings: Will update as needed
Note: I'll match your style, brackets or prose. Here's her Pines Info.
[Open + Closed]
Wandering @ Her Neighborhood
Friday, April 7 - Open, especially to neighbors
Was it weird to walk through your own neighborhood staring at other people's houses?
It was a thought that did cross Marie's mind more than once as she slowly strolled along the sidewalks, past house after house. Some were empty and silent, bearing no names on the mailboxes as her own did, while others had life teeming within them. Families getting ready for dinner, children playing in the backyard. The odd thing was, even those empty houses were filled with furniture, as if waiting for their families to come back and claim them. No matter how many flower beds she climbed through to get close enough to windows to peer inside, each one was the same. Furnished, decorated, lifeless.
Hopefully no one called the police on her for snooping.
Running & Donuts @ Around Town
Saturday, April 8 - Open
The sun was only just coming up as Marie left the house, moving as quietly as she could in the hopes of not waking up her roommates. The air was crisp and she shivered slightly in her green running pants and long-sleeved shirt. She stretched for a minutes on the front lawn before setting off on her run.
Well, it was more walking with a hint of running every now and then. Even a slow jog left her gasping for breath, like she hadn't done anything more than lay around for years rather than the few days she'd been trying to recover from the accident. Like most things in her life, it didn't make one bit of sense, but what was she going to do about it other than struggle through the grueling process of getting back into shape?
After a few turns around the surrounding neighborhoods, she'd head down Main Street and stop in at Hurts's Donuts to pick up breakfast for the house.
Shopping @ French's General Store
Sunday, April 9 - Open
Sunday was the day for grocery shopping. It was what she'd grown up with and it was what she followed now in the hopes of finding something like comfort in the old ritual that left her battling other Sunday shoppers for elbow space in the aisles. She was covered in a large grey knit sweater and jeans, gloves and a scarf, and her striped hair down for added measure. There were going to be absolutely no accidents, she'd promised herself, and she was determined on that point.
Still, it was awfully tempting to zap Mrs. Lanahan when she went for the last bottle of chocolate sauce.
Faculty Bonding @ School
Monday, April 10 - Closed to Fellow Teachers
The first day back had been... overwhelming, to put it mildly. She'd taught three classes that day, all different levels of French, and while she remembered the language perfectly, she'd struggled through the syllabi and lesson plans that she'd supposedly planned out at the start of the semester. Those she didn't remember at all, and she'd stumbled over more than one thing in each class. Add in her awkwardness with students who remembered her when she didn't quite remember them, remeeting her colleagues who she only vaguely recalled, and the general physical drain of being in front of people for hours and, well, she was pretty damn tired.
It was the early afternoon when her last class finished and she retreated to the faculty lounge, where there was a half-empty pot of questionable coffee that she eyed for a good thirty seconds before pouring herself a small mug. Desperate times called for terrible coffee. She flopped herself down in a chair at one of the tables before setting her mug aside and laying her head down on the table. She would lay there for a while, drink the foul coffee, and eventually haul out her lesson plans for the next few days to properly review.
Office Hours @ Java Joe's
Tuesday, April 11 - Open, especially to students
Office hours. The idea made her think of all the visits she'd made to crammed little offices back in college, chatting with her professors about theories, going over assignments, and eventually asking for recommendations when she'd applied for jobs. It had been intimidating at times, and that was why she'd decided to hold her own office hours in a place where her students might feel comfortable - a coffee shop.
Twice a week, she took over a table at the side of the room and settled in for two hours. During that time students could stop by to ask questions, go over assignments, or just talk. She remembered the first few times had been mostly sitting by herself and drinking her weight in caffeine, but after a couple weeks the students had started coming. Even the ones who weren't in her classes anymore would stop by sometimes to catch up on life.
So as awkward as she still felt in front of the classes of teenagers she only half-remembered, Marie had wanted to carry on this practice, and she'd heard from a handful of students already that they would be by that evening.
Fortunate Accidents @ School
Friday, April 14 - Closed to Bucky Barnes
Had Friday always taken this long to come around, or had this week just been exceedingly long? Each day had dragged more than the last as Marie had struggled to adjust to her new-old life, getting back into the groove of things that she still only half-remembered. By the end of her last class, she was so completely out of sorts that she managed to spill her lunchtime coffee all over her white sweater.
Shit.
For half a second, she debated her options. If she waited until she got home, the sweater would probably be a lost cause, but if she worked on it now-- Decision made, she hurried down the hall, dodging the few straggling students who hadn't yet made it to the cafeteria. The art room was closer and had some decent-sized sinks for cleanup, so she slipped inside and made a beeline for one that wasn't stained with paint, tugging off the sweater as she went and stuffing gloves into her pockets. The camisole she'd worn underneath did a good job of keeping her decent, but with her arms and shoulders bared, she was just tempting fate to send a student rushing into the room. Waiting for the universe to cause another 'accident'.
She didn't even think about the tattoo on her arm that was bared, or the still-healing scars that were partially visible on her back. Her focus was on rinsing out the material as quickly as she could without running into anyone.
You Choose @ Main Street
Any day, you make the call
Not seeing what you want? Choose your own adventure! Rogue will wander through Main Street at least twice a day, aimlessly or with purpose depending on the location.
Wandering @ Her Neighborhood
As he attempted to arrange gold pansies - gold was important for some reason - in a planter, Alec looked up to notice a woman peeking into the windows of the empty house next to his. Setting down the shovel, he stood, brushing his hands off on his jeans before heading toward her. Crossing his arms over his chest, one eyebrow lifted as he considered the reasons why she might be snooping on the neighbors. "Let me guess, this isn't what it seems?"
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Going completely still at the sound of the way too close voice, there was the fleeting instinct to run that even a second later seemed utterly ridiculous. Where was she going to go? And how could she expect anyone to not remember her very noticeable striped hair?
After a deep breath, she turned to face the witness to her completely harmless crime and flashed the most charming smile she could manage. "Of course it isn't," she answered in a soft southern drawl.
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He really should call the police but Alec didn't think she was planning on breaking into any of the houses and if she did try it... "If you're casing the neighborhood, skip our property. The topiaries are carnivorous and you can't enter the house without an invitation."
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Carnivorous topiaries? Marie glanced at the house next door, taking note of the plants that had been trimmed and did seem a bit... menacing. But carnivorous? It was a weird thing to say, she knew that, but she didn't find the idea itself all that odd. Didn't all homes have defenses in the flora?
"Noted," she said with a nod, stepping carefully out of the soiled area in front of the window and back onto the grass. "Though for the record, I'm only interested in the empty houses. And I'm not casing them."
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all that I know, is, i don't know how to be something you miss
That was the first time he caught a glimpse of Marie. It was the first time he'd seen someone and hadn't spoken to them but remembered their name. Not much else came back to him, besides, Marie. He didn't think anything of it. He preferred to go on with his day. He wondered now, who might he run into next. Their world prior to this accident kept revealing more of itself. Now his wife had a best friend he altogether didn't love, for petty, pointless sophomoric reasons.
He wanted to know, what's next?
It was one thing for a best friend to come out of the woodwork, someone with a life of his own. Fitting his newest best friend also played the part of guardian.
Today was different.
Damon, usually a breaker of routines, had set a strict one in this town, mostly because there wasn't much to do. But, today he broke routine. He told himself he should grab a cup of coffee. It warmed vampires' veins. There would be no need to explain his colder skin. Though, with the brisk temperature finally breaking, he'd need an excuse. The cold gave him every excuse. Leather jacket over the t-shirt he'd last worn in front of Rayna Cruz herself, pants tighter than the fashion of the time but his usual boots, Damon made his way into the local coffee house looking the picture of out of place. He also looked damn good.
He glanced absentmindedly (or so he thought) to the clock on the wall, before looking to his left to a corner he'd know would be occupied.
Marie.
He ordered a coffee for himself, but found himself ordering her favorite, knowing off the top of his head what she'd like to drink. He paid for them both, actively not looking in her direction, knowing she anticipated him going over there, but refusing to move until he had her coffee in hand. He had never been this aware of anyone in this town and they hadn't even spoken yet. Feelings overtook him, ones he couldn't put to words. He knew then that the glimpse he got of her running had triggered a series of differences in his routine, of a white lie he'd told Katherine, when at the time he thought she didn't need to know, and the blatant lie he'd told his brother. He'd dropped off the car they were working on because the house was nearer to her office hours. Office hours she kept up twice a week.
Setting the coffee down in front of her then, he glanced behind himself before taking the seat across from her, sipping from his.
"Any adolescent drama today?" He knew the students came by for help with their assignments, and for support. She played the part of teacher and guidance counselor when need be. Damon's words dripped with double meaning, however, other truths coming into place now that they had come face to face.
Katherine, eat your heart out.
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That was so much easier said than done. Waking up in that hospital remembering only a handful of things about herself had been hard enough, but now that other memories were beginning to trickle in... They didn't make sense. Conflicting series of events warred for her attention, and everywhere she turned there seemed to be people who knew her when she didn't know them.
Like him. She hadn't seen him come into the coffee shop, didn't take note when he placed an order at the counter. It wasn't until he set a drink down in front of her and took a seat that she looked up from the textbook she'd been reviewing. His question was answered with a confused expression as she glanced at the cup that was clearly meant for her.
"I'm sorry, sugar, do we--" The words were slipping out even as the fog in her mind shifted, revealing a name that left her lips in a breath of recognition. "Damon."
Damon Salvatore. High school, coming back from New York. The pieces slid into place like a puzzle, still a little blurred at the edges but colored with emotions that she could have sworn she hadn't experienced in a very long time. Acceptance, affection, genuine care. The feeling of strong arms wrapped around her, the weight of those striking blue eyes watching her. How could she have forgotten all of that?
It doesn't make sense.
Clearing her throat and shifting slightly in her chair, Marie shook her head, reaching out with a gloved hand for the drink he'd bought for her. A mocha, her favorite. "Nothing really serious. Some of the students are testing me because I've been away for a while, but I'll get through it." Pausing before taking a sip of the coffee, she added in her soft southern drawl, just in case he didn't know. "I was in an accident. I don't remember it, but I don't remember a lot of things."
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"The kids'll let up. They're just happy to have you back." He takes another sip from his coffee, before his other hand comes to the cup. "They're not the only ones."
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And then he said that and she remembered a little more. About him. About herself? About the marriage he had with... The name escaped her.
"Suddenly I'm happy to be back," she revealed, mildly surprised that it was true. Tilting her head while she more closely examined that truly handsome face, she added with a hint of awe in her tone, "Even though I just remembered you, it feels like I've been missing you something fierce, sugar."
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(I work for the President of the United States--)
"Stop it." Said impatiently and to himself. He hasn't yet noticed someone else in the room.
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"Stop what?" she asked quickly, nervously, lifting her head and turning to address the man who'd just walked in. Sam. His name was Sam. She'd forgotten.
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He gestures at the air with his folder, as though the motion somehow illustrates... anything.
Recognition hits, and his sheepishness softens into a genuine smile. "Marie. How are you? I've been... Out. Not. Actually Chase's fault. For once."
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Returning that smile with one of her own, she replied in her soft southern drawl, "Actually, I've been out too, sugar. There was an accident. I'm pretty sure it wasn't Chase's fault." She certainly hoped so, anyway.
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Office Hours @ Java Joe's
She had a french conversation book positioned beneath her arm as she walked over towards the teacher. Clary remembered the office hours and the place though she had forgotten her teachers name. That wasn't so usual.
"Excuse me." She'd stepped up to Marie only after making sure it was the right person. "I'm sorry. I'm looking for help in French." Her mother was in France for an art show, it had made sense that Clary learn too. If she wanted to be a serious artist she would be taken all over the world.
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Straightening up the papers she'd let take over the table, she studied the young woman for a moment before hesitantly asking, "Are you in one of my classes? I'm so sorry, I was in an accident and things are still a little foggy."
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Marie's story was a familiar one and Clary began to wonder how many of those in the city were in an accident. It felt like to many people. Maybe this town was cursed. "Oh right. I'm Clary I'm in French 3. I was looking over assignments and I noticed this report on French history that obviously has to be written in French but I wanted to know if I could focus on their legends." It was a little more interesting since there were stories of beasts and other creatures all through French history.
It seemed like a cooler way to look at the assignment and Clary was desperate to make it more interesting for herself. More so with her aunt making sure she does all her homework.
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"I think that's a perfectly acceptable idea," she decided, offering Clary a smile, "provided you make connections with how those legends were seen through history. What tales people told and when, and what circumstances of that era might have promoted the popularity of those legends."
It would be a more interesting paper to both write and read, but it would also be a bit more difficult than the topics most of her classmates were conquering. If she wanted to tackle it, though, Marie had no doubt she'd manage it just fine.
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java joe's.
She doesn't drink coffee. Or tea. Or anything that isn't alcoholic or blood-related. At least, not regularly. Plus, one needs to venture into any number of places to get the low down on who's doing what.
Overall, the coffee house is quiet, and she does order a drink. That she might sip at, or toss into a trash can before she heads home. Turning back around to choose whether or not she'll sit for a few or exit the place, she spots a newly arrived face. With the most...
"Who dyes your hair?" Interesting appearance, but it's actually the papers that the other woman started to spread out that made Katherine decide to approach. She speaks immediately once she reaches the table, standing there near its edge. A quick glance down: oh, a teacher? Huh. Possibly boring. Her voice rings with a gruffer hold than most women, but she's not being unkind. Maybe she genuinely wants to know? She smiles, no super special memories creeping up (yet) of this person. Her brows lift high, head nodding slightly to the side. "You?"
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"Actually, it's not dyed," she replied in her southern drawl, her tone polite and friendly as she corrected the assumption. It was one a lot of people tended to make. "Someone tried to kill me when I was younger; I guess it's from the stress of that."
The explanation slipped out before she could really think about it, but once it was out there in the open, she had to wonder if that was what really happened. It felt like the truth, but it didn't fit with the memories she had of her childhood. Nothing she was remembering fit together though, so why should she be surprised that this didn't either?
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Her fingers tightened slightly around her cup as that answer came out, revealed and laid out so easily -- was it was the truth? Her natural reaction crept out too, eyes widening, because anyone would be shocked to hear that sort of an answer.
"Wow. Someone here? Or, maybe in a town over." A rule wasn't broken, just close to it, because that wasn't talking about the past: they both knew, as did anyone else watching in, that they can't leave. A nod to an empty chair across from the other woman. "May I? Would you mind?"
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Faculty
She knew there had been a fresh influx of accidents this month, so it didn't surprise her to see more teachers who presumably have been here all along. A large part of her hated being here, hated having to pretend to care about humans and their petty problems but the time wasn't ripe yet. She had to be patient.
"Long day?" Her tone was friendly. "I have tea if you prefer that."
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"Very long," she confirmed in her soft southern drawl. "And I'd love some tea, thank you. I'm not sure this stuff can legally be called coffee anymore."
A language teacher. It clicked suddenly, like a light had just been turned on in a dark room. They had that in common.
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"How are your classes? Feels like you've had a very long break." A pointed question but it's about as close to openly asking what shouldn't be asked while under surveillance.
Faculty
After a moment, Ana reached up to take her hair down and instead she touched the dry erase marker that she had stuck in her bun at some point. Sighing loudly, all Ana could think was: why had she done that? When had she done that?! Ugh, that didn't seem like something that she would have done at all! But there it was and she jerked it out with a force that was entirely unnecessary, making her hair a bit lopsided.
Heading towards the coffee machine, Ana looked over to the woman at the table with the coffee in front of her. "Is it as bad as it looks?" The question came as she lifted the pot and gave it a swirl, wondering if diner coffee ever got as thick and gross looking as the one here in the teacher's lounge.
saturday;
Anyway, it's still better with Natasha, but he's up long before her or the sun most days, including today when he doesn't have the excuse of a school day. He's already done circuits of the town in the waning dark, the pines always looming tall to his right, whatever direction he's headed compass-wise. As the sky lightens he tightens his path toward the center of town, sounds of life finally starting to intrude over the slap of his shoes on the sidewalks. He prefers it, can only take the company of his own thoughts for so long. It's here, closer to the houses that he spots her, the shock of white through her ponytail distinctive even in the muted blue of the dawn. He's always found it rather beautiful.
No, he hasn't.
Steve lets out a puff of air that has nothing to do with being winded. "Marie," he calls from behind her, as though he needs to do so at all to catch up to her pace. Mostly it's just to keep from surprising her. He slows significantly before he reaches her, at a near walk to keep pace — contrary to popular opinion, it is something he can do if he cares to. "Mind some company?"
fortunate accidents!
By the time he returns to Steve's classroom with a granola bar in hand, there's somebody else in the room, over by the sinks. One of the teachers-- he's seen her in passing-- and she seems to be washing something in the sink.
He moves over to her, maybe a little too silent in his steps, and catches glimpse of a tattoo on her wrist before his gaze is drawn to the scars on her back-- at least, the ones not covered by her camisole.
He doesn't even clear his throat or anything before he speaks up. ]
There's dish soap under the sink, if you need it.
[ Don't sneak up on people like that, Bucky. ]