when ppl act like POTS isn't debilitating or that it's exaggerated i kinda wish i could somehow safely elevate that person's resting heartrate to 90 and have it skyrocket to 120-160 whenever they stand up and see how they fare after a week. bc that's what i deal with 24/7/365. and there are plenty of people who have it way worse than me.
@oneeyedpsychic asked: 💭 please God something happy/and or with Gran
Send me a “💭“ and your Muse will experience one of my Muse’s Memories
The house was… much different that what you were used to back home. The screens slid, and were made of thin canvas. These floors were old and wooden, and creaked as you stepped on them. The place smelled a lot like the forest road, all earthy. That, and smoke–but that was coming from outside.
It was the first time you came to this part of the house. The smells made your head hurt a little bit… But you were restless enough to get out of bed. Apparently you missed an entire airplane ride because of your medicine… It was already night time, even! You slept the entire day.
Your Japanese was… bad. As in, you didn’t know any. And your ‘grandma’s’ English wasn’t like your parents… So when you offered a little ‘hello’ to the elderly woman on the porch, you were afraid you’d said something bad. She jumped pretty high for an old lady.
“S-sorry. I, um…”
You shrank back into the house a bit, but she put her hands in front of her.
“N-no. You…”
…
“…Scare me.”
…You’re not sure which of you is more afraid of who at this point.
“…I live by myself. A long time.”
“Oh.”
(”My bad…”)
For a while, the two of you just looked at each other. It seemed that, to you, your mom went out of her way not to look like this woman in front of you. She didn’t act anything like your mom, either–for one thing, your mom didn’t smoke.
(”That’s where the smell came from…”)
Hearing you, your grandmother looked at her pipe, then placed it on the table on a stand.
“…Bothers you?”
…Huh. You weren’t sure. Back into silence the two of you fell… and you crept onto the patio, pulling your pajama jacket a little closer to you. Seeing you put down your guard a bit helped her sit back in her chair.
“…Your head?”
“Huh?”
She pointed to her head, mirroring where a bunch of bandages were on your own. You… couldn’t remember why they were there. The past few months were a little fuzzy for you.
“Your head? It’s hurting?”
“A little. Not as bad as it was.”
“Good.”
“Um…”
…You weren’t used to being stared at. You think she caught onto that, and looked another way.
“…Sorry.”
“Why?”
“Uh?”
“Why are you sorry?”
“I was gonna ask a question, but it was dumb.”
To that, she shook her head; it was the only thing she’d done with absolute certainty since you met her.
“Please ask.”
At first, you pursed your lips… but she seemed patient enough to wait. Your dad would have walked away by now.
“…We’re in Japan?”
“Yes.”
“This is your house?”
“Ours, now. Yes.”
“Um…”
...
“…Do you, know when Mom and Dad are coming back from their trip?”
She shook her head.
“I’m very sorry. No, I do not know. When know, I will tell you.”
“Okay.”
“A long time.”
“Oh…”
There it was. She finally got up and walked away… You looked at the snow on the ground, poking it with a toe and watching it shrink back. Your eyes started to burn again… How long were you going to be stuck here?
“Anda?”
Oh–she came back. With a big blanket, too… She offered it out to you, and admittedly, you were happy to take it.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
…
“…It is difficult.”
By ‘it’, you thought she was referring to literally all of this. But after that, she offered a very tiny smile to you.
“I want to help you. If you… need things. Please tell me.”
“O… o-kay.”
“Your things… by mail. Your things will get here soon.”
You guess the reality of the situation setting in finally tipped your tears over your cheeks, and you pulled your blanket tighter around you. Your head started to throb…
“…I’m sorry.”
You didn’t want her thinking you were a baby for crying. God, you wanted her to think you were as mature as your dad said you were, and you were blowing it big time. But…
She came closer to you, raising a hand to your face that you flinched away from… For a moment, you couldn’t tell what she was thinking–that face wasn’t something you’d seen on your parents… She tried again, moving to wipe a tear off your cheek with her thumb.
“Anda… Please–”
“I’m–I’m sorry. I’ll stop. It’s dumb… I knnnow it’s stupid…”
“It’s not stupid. Everything is… new. Scary.”
You… gave a nod. A small one.
“It will be okay. You can cry.”
You wanted to ask if she was sure. You cried a lot–this lady didn’t know what she was getting into. But the sobs prevented you from saying anything coherent. You just stood on her porch, crying your eyes out in front of this poor woman. It was even more strange that she was letting you do that. Dad hated it when you–
“Inside? Come inside. It is warmer in there.”
Taking small steps with you, the old woman closed the door behind you both, and lead you into the air of the kitchen.
“…My name is Teika Isao.”
…
“Isao Teika. English.” She told you, checking the bandages on your head now that the light was better.
finally digested my dislike of s5 and decided I'm mostly focusing on New York instead (unless Kathryn wants to do something w the last man >:) then I will accept s5 as canon)