the logs

Who: lydia martin & allison argent
Where: their shared bedroom in the t.wolf gal household
When: some may night
What: lydia has been fighting with some strange memory flashes and cuddles with allison for comfort.
Warnings: probably gals being pals.
[Closed]

[ She can still hear the whispers in the forest, repeating like the echo of an old record in her head. But it isn't the loudest voice anymore. This time they aren't harsh and spread like a call through the wind. These float within her ears in a more casual manner, presenting itself more in the way of a memory than anything else. A memory — a peculiar thing, really, since Lydia had once been so confident of those. Hard to be a genius without something of a photographic recollection.

But everything lingers like a haze these days. Since the hospital. Since she stumbled down the road in the bitter cold, naked save for a faint layer of a hospital gown. It'd all been a strange turn of events that day, something that had tugged frantically at her mind when she'd walked out, tugging and tugging, until —

Until Allison had saved her.

Allison.

Lydia slips out of her bed, bare feet carefully stepping onto the floor in a quiet, careful manner before tiptoeing across the room. There's a slight creak when the weight of her body lowers onto the mattress of the other bed, but she quickly finds her comfort after tugging the sheets over her body and her fingers stretch over the shoulder of the sleeping girl. ]

Allison? [ It still sounds so strange from her lips, saying it out loud. Like she's calling out into the darkness to a ghost. She might as well be. ]

Who: Lydia Martin & Caroline Forbes
Where: Caroline's house
When: the the late hours of the 26th
What: Lydia sleepwalks her way to Caroline's house and leaves a distressing message.
Warnings: Screaming banshees.

[ She can no longer tell when she sleeps. Sometimes it comes and goes, but she finds herself constantly getting lost in what could either be dreams or reality. These nights, when she closes her eyes, she sees herself in the woods, leaves wet beneath her boots, drips of wet wet wet falling from the branches overhead onto the top of her damp hair. She hears the harshness of whispers, urgent in their calling. She tries to call out to them but her voice doesn't ring out, so instead she walks through the woods, searching and searching.

She feels herself drawn to the trees, as if they could possibly hold some clue as to what it all means. The whispers continue, too soft to make out the words, too loud for her ears to bear. But she continues to listen, her hand held out, fingers reaching out to touch the bark in front of her.

In her mind, her fingertips caress the rough edges of a tree. But instead, they form a fist and knock harshly on the outside of a door. ]

CATCH-ALL: 16TH & 17TH




( under cut! )

Who: Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff and Lydia Martin
Where: The Twoof household
When: March 9th
What: Visiting Lydia while she's convalescing.
Warnings: Probably none, will warn in subjects if necessary.
[Closed]

[ Natasha meets him downstairs for breakfast. It's not how he'd gotten used to seeing her in the mornings (and he thinks it's something he could've gotten used to fast regardless of mostly hazy recollections of a life together), but all things considered he'll take it. She catches him with a piece of toast in his mouth, leaning against the counter after coming in from his run, still mostly clothed in the winter appropriate gear he'd gone out in but his hair damp and askew from removing his baseball cap, ears tinged pink. True to form — or at least history — he's moved on from punching bags to hitting the pavement to clear his mind. But when she sits at the table he silently turns to get out a plate and drops the toast onto it before reaching for more plates, going to the fridge to pull out more bread, jam, eggs.

They make small talk that still feels important to Steve, so it's not really out of the blue when she mentions Lydia. He thinks he remembers her, too — red hair the same color as Natasha's, hunched over one of the long tables in Steve's classroom with a focused precision. Natasha doesn't say too much about her conversation with her the night before, but Steve can tell she's worried. It doesn't seem like the right time to bring up Caroline, so he doesn't and instead suggests she go visit today. Neither of them need to point out that Lydia's not really her cousin — they both know, but they're both also people who feel responsible anyway, even when maybe they shouldn't. Natasha doesn't ask him to come so much as tell him he doesn't have to; Steve knows an out when he sees one but doesn't need to give it more than a second's thought to know he won't take it.

They both shower and get dressed before meeting downstairs again. They bundle up (as well as either of them ever do) and head out the door, walking toward Main Street for Natasha to gather an impromptu care package before they head back the way they came, to the house Lydia's sharing with her friends. He lets Natasha approach the door first to ring the doorbell, crossing his own arms as he climbs the steps to stand behind her on the porch and wait for an answer. ]

INTRODUCTION LOG( under cut! )