Dec 15, 2015
“I still haven’t figured out how to feel about everything that’s happened.”
seen from United States
seen from South Africa
seen from Germany
seen from China
seen from China
seen from Algeria
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Poland
seen from Belarus
seen from Malaysia
seen from Algeria
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Algeria
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Chile
seen from South Africa
seen from Algeria
“I still haven’t figured out how to feel about everything that’s happened.”
Why is a raven like a writing desk? - Alice & Jefferson
Sliding down the wall, Jefferson landed abruptly among the scattered shards and torn fabric. He did not care that they dug deep into his hands. He hardly cared for pain. What was pain rather than a unnecessary reminder one was doing what one ought not to? Physical, at the very least, was of no concern to him. Especially when one deserved it.
The curse was broken. Magic restored. It flowed through him once more, a sensation he had near forgotten. It laid dormant, ready and willing to be lead. His hat, and he was certain it was his, held the same essence of magic. Like veins with blood, each stretch of fabric held together the hat’s magic. And yet.. it did not bend to him. This magic, so familiar yet vastly different, would not work his way. He knew how magic worked. Had learnt from an early age and advanced his level of mastery beyond what a man of his status should be capable of. He had crafted this hat. Infused it with magic of his own. So how was it that the magic of this world hindered him?
Make it work.
The words taunted him, cruel and sneering. Cold. The shards around him felt like swords, all wanting for his blood. At the ready, they waited for their queen to take command.
Make it work.
“Make it work.” Jefferson stared intently ahead, eyes unwavering as his gaze never left his hat. “Make it work.” He did not notice the wetness of tears, or how his eyes stung. Grace would be awake. She’d know. And yet, Jefferson had nothing. He could not take her home. He could not make it in time for tea.
Make it work.
“Work, blast you!” Snatching the hat, he turned it over and over, searching for any frayed fabric. Something. Anything. He could feel it, the magic, grazing against his subconsciousness. Yet he hadn’t the knowledge to wield it. Focused, Jefferson continued his mantra, trying desperately to unlock its power. What was he missing? Why was it different? Why?
Jefferson could not help but glower at the immobile clock, never before quite as infuriated with its stubbornness as he was now. He’s made the right decision, he knew that much, in siding with the Savior whether she was aware of such or not. However, in doing so he’d gotten another drawn into his mess, and he was quite frustrated that he’d managed so. He wanted it to start, for the curse to break and for him to finally have control of his hat. But, most of all, he wanted to see Regina fall. Jefferson was quite drawn to sweets, and revenge had a rather pleasant taste.
A watched kettle. He huffed, frustrated that everything he had been working for was now in the hands of a unaware woman and her love life. Perhaps it was unfair, but his last conversation with Regina had left him rather shaken and infuriated. He wanted it to be over. He wanted his magic back. He wanted Grace back. And instead, he was too busy being drawn into a currently one-sided feud, both sides looking at him expectantly for information.
“I hate this forsaken town,” he hissed, not much caring if another heard him or not.
Never Part of Any Crowd
She was sitting in Granny’s, simply wanting to enjoy time away from the ship. Not that she wasn’t enjoying it- it was nice enough... she just wanted to stretch her legs so to speak. It was quiet so she didn’t feel like she was taking up a needed table to sit there and read after she finished her meal. She planned on tipping well- for taking up the seat. She was far too engrossed in her book, biting her lip to keep from smiling at a good part, she didn’t hear the bell ringing signalling someone else entering the little diner.
Best Laid Plans (Mary Margaret & Neal)
aka-snowwhite
Neal arrived at the Blanchard loft hours before the dinner. He hadn't even done his grocery shopping or chosen a fresh outfit; he was dressed in the same outfit as this morning. Before coming to the loft, he did stop by the candy store and picked out a box of assorted candies for Mary Margaret as making a good impression was top on his list.
Knocking on the door, he took a step back and waited. His free hand went to his pocket. Inside was a diamond ring from Mrs. Darling. For some reason, of which was still unclear to Neal, she'd given him the heirloom for his bride-to-be (whoever that would end up being). She probably did not expect him to hold on to the item for such a long time, but it had been put in a drawer and forgotten until right before him and August left on the trip. For some reason, which was only becoming clear now, Neal brought it with him.
Nerves sent butterflies into his stomach as he stood there. Would Ms. Blanchard be home? What if she worked? Or what if she was cleaning house or napping? Maybe he should come back later. It wasn't like he was going anywhere - at least for a little while.
Dawn let out an exasperated sigh before folding putting away the newspaper she’d been looking at. She took a sip from her orange juice, and went back to looking at Granny’s’ breakfast menu. “Blueberry or chocolate chip?” she whispered to herself, trying to decide which type of waffle she’d try this morning.
Dawn looked around at her surroundings and sighed. She had no idea where she was. How she had managed to get lost in such a small town, she had no idea. One thing she knew for sure, however, was that she was nowhere near Granny’s Diner. She considered going back to the hospital, but the thought of eating another hospital meal made her cringe. Dawn decided her best option was to ask someone for directions. She bit her lower lip before walking up to a stranger. “Hello,” she started, her lips curving into a small smile. “I don’t mean to bother you, but I was wondering if you could tell me how to get to Granny’s Diner?”
“Welcome to CuriosiTea... Would you like a seat? Or are you just browsing the take home selection?” She offered a pleasant smile to the person who just stepped foot into her shop. CuriosiTea smelled of tea and baked goods. All made my the young woman herself. And the few workers she had there.