Next to Godliness

My name is Evanna Mead. I an twenty years old, I reside at Hemlock Acres, and no, I'm not crazy. I'm not new to town, no..just very gifted at being ignored and unimpressive. This is a Hemlock Grove roleplay blog.

[eos-tre-deactivated20180801]

inspired by this post x

[drlectah]

"Everything’s got to end sometime. Otherwise nothing would ever get started."

[aaronpaauls-deactivated20141206]

[peterthegypsy]

Soup for the Soul || Eva and Peter

[peterthegypsy]

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You’re a real lady killer.

Thought Eva may have thought she’d offended him, Peter just played it off with a laugh and a bit of a cocky reply. "Yeah, how do you think those rumors got started, hm?" He gave his hair a dramatic flip as he smiled over to her, somewhat wordlessly letting her know it was okay. He just watched her eat for a while - good to see her with an appetite, at least; perhaps whatever she had wasn’t so terribly bad …

However, her home … had a very distinct coppery scent to it; most people wouldn’t pick it up - but the wolf? He could smell it - that oh-too-familiar, though faint, scent of blood. He tried to put it to the back of his mind. maybe it was just a womanly thing. One would certainly hope.

When she spoke about having a fever though, he pressed his lips together with a concerned look as he lifted his hand to her brow, then her neck, checking … "Hm," he grunted, then stood to move to the kitchen once more, dampening a cloth with cold water and folding it.

If you say so. I just feel so bad that you’re doing the things that I’m s’posed to be doing for you.

He paused on his way back to her, brow furrowing from confusion. "What?" What was that supposed to mean? Returning to her side, he’d carefully move her hair to one side, over the shoulder, before draping the cool, damp rag across the back of his neck.

You really don’t mind?

"Nah. It’s what friends do, right? Take care of each other?"

[themeadgirl-blog]

The cool dampness of the cloth forced her eyes shut, a wave of an icy feeling against the heat her skin was radiating. With no other way to put it, it was the best thing she'd felt all day. Letting out a sigh, Eva shrugged.

"I just mean that I'm supposed to be fetching you drinks and make you food." She told him, putting necessary emphasis on the word 'you'. She knew Peter was only trying to help her, but she was supposed to be a big girl, and feeling so helpless frustrated her. Eva would never not let him help, though. "Thank you. I should have said that as soon as you got over." And she very well should have. Better late than never.

Letting herself relax, Eva's shoulders slumped down, pressing her forehead into the cloth. The moment didn't last more than a few minutes before a familiar feeling burned through her lungs, stomach and throat. All too violently, the woman shoved the hand from her forehead with a frantic apology and stood quickly, turning to make way towards the bathroom only to find her knees hitting the floor, her own hands weakly catching the weight of her upper half. It was very likely that they'd bruise, but the metallic taste was in her mouth again that day, making bruised knees the least of her worries. The sudden pool of blood on the floor, and what was left dripping from her mouth wouldn't be as easy to hide from Peter as the bloody tissues in her bedroom trash bin. "I'm sorry," she said, wiping the droplets from her mouth. "I tried to hold off. I'm sorry."

[dailykarengillan]

[amyskhaleesi]

[peterthegypsy]

Soup for the Soul || Eva and Peter

[peterthegypsy]

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“I know. I’m really popular with the ladies,” he added, with a wink and a click of his tongue.

He snatched the sack of loose leaf tea leaves from the bag before handing it over to her and sneaking around to the kitchen. “Saint Peter, hm? Catholics usually call on him to help with fevers and longevity so … I guess it fits, I mean, if you’ve got a fever - do you have a fever?” he asked, peeking over his shoulder as he started to rummage through her cabinets in search of a mug. Finding on, he filled it with water and put it in the microwave.

Why?

Because Peter couldn’t be arsed to put on a kettle and wait for the water to boil, damnit. He was too lazy. Ain’t nobody got time for that! He opened the microwave at the :01 second mark - because he hated that confounded beeping sound they made when finished - and removed the steaming mug, sprinkling green tea leaves directly into the water, watching them sink and seep to turn the liquid light green in color as he wandered over to her and took the offered seat, setting her tea on the coffee table next to her bowl.

I wish I could be more of a host.

“Meh, you’re fine,” he waved it off, draping his arms over the back of the couch behind him. “You’re sick. Hostess duties are waived.”

[themeadgirl-blog]

Eva greedily opened up the container, picking up small spoonfuls of soup. It was a relief to be eating..well, to be eating anything in fact, and the warmth of the soup made her stomach rumble even more. As great as Peter's minestrone was, she couldn't over do it. Not eating all day had taken its toll on her, and eating too much all at once would more than likely only feel worse. 

"You're a real lady killer," she teased, poking her tongue out. Would she regret yet another joke? Probably. The recent death of multiple women had once been blamed on him, and Eva (being Eva) always managed to put her foot in her mouth. Well, can't really take that back now. Change subject, change subject, change- "Actually I..do kind of have a fever. I mean I haven't checked my temperature, but I'm warm?" Was she coming down with the flu? The flu wouldn't make her cough up blood, would it?

No, of course it wouldn't. She was probably dying. Or, maybe, the vast number of medicines she'd taken in the past 24 hours had gotten into her system and was making her lose her goddamn mind. That's probably the case. "Alright, well," she started, grasping the little tea cup in her hands. "If you say so. I just feel so bad that you're doing the things that I'm s'posed to be doing for you." Bad friend qualities were showing up all over the place, and (unintentionally) forcing him to take care of her. "You really don't mind?"

[themeadgirl-blog]

ALRIGHT SO.

I am going to be super damn busy today. My friend is going back to Germany, so until 2 pm on the east coast, that's where I'll be. 

I'll definitely check in, maybe post another Journal entry? Not too sure yet, but in the afternoon, I'll be going bike shopping with my Aunt as well, so I'll be busy doing that too. 

See you guys soon! I still owe peterthegypsy!

[peterthegypsy]

Soup for the Soul || Eva and Peter

[peterthegypsy]

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When she opened the door, he blinked rapidly a few times at just how … sick she looked.

“Heeeeeeeeeeeeeyyyyyyyyyy,” he greeted, still smiling - though with a touch of sympathy. “You look like shit.” He widened his eyes a bit, apologetic. “I meant that in the nicest way possible, though. Promise.”

Just don’t go into the bedroom, I guess?

He clicked his tongue, shaking his head in disappointment. “Ah. Darn. There goes my plans of building a pillow fort.” He lifted the bag and soup as he stepped inside. “There’s some juice and green tea in there, too. I didn’t know if you needed some or not, but thought what the hell, you know? A little extra couldn’t hurt …” His voice trailed off as he looked around the apartment.

Something about her aura seemed off … different than it had been when last they spoke; and he knew it then … that it was happening. The best he could do was keep an eye on her, right? To ensure her safety … and the safety of others.

“Oh. Here.” He lifted the bag to her, snapping back to reality. “Best to eat it while it’s still hot.”

[themeadgirl-blog]

Eva scoffed, scrunching her eyebrows. "Wow," she laughed out, shaking  her hair. The red waves shook limply, and had lost a bit of the natural copper tone--she'd been way to tired to even shower, and that said something serious about her sudden illness. "You really, really know how to make a girl feel special, Peter." The girl followed after him, plopping down on the couch as soon as she could. Maybe she was just making her exhaustion worse by over-thinking about it.

As he lifted the bag, her dull eyes lit up a bit. She really just needed something in he system, and if it came back up, then it came back up. Juice, tea, and soup? "You..are a saint. Do you know that?" She gave a weak smile as she made grabby hands toward the bag, gratefully taking it from him. The container was warm, and mixed with the smell of the soup, she was feeling a little better already. Digging through the bag, she pulled out a little spoon.

"You didn't have to do this, but thank the gods that you did." Eva smiled once again, turning to him so he'd get the full effect of her appreciation. However, she couldn't help but notice how..weird he was acting, even if only a little. Was he uncomfortable with her sickness? No, she was just being crazy."I wish I could be more of a host." She admitted, patting the seat next to her.

[peterthegypsy]

Soup for the Soul || Eva and Peter

True to his word, regardless of her warnings about snot-soaked tissues and immobility, Peter still arrived on Eva’s doorstep with a Tupperware bowl of minestrone, some roasted Italian bread and a new box of tissues.

Knock-knock-knock …

[themeadgirl-blog]

The knocks sounded through the apartment, and the redhead was still in bed, blood spotted tissues thrown about the trash bin. She hadn't really expected him to come over, and surely not so soon. "Damn," she muttered, forcing an extremely sore body to get up. Slowly, Eva walked over to the front, popping her head out. There was no way to hide the surprise on her face, but Peter didn't seem like one to not do what he'd say. "Uh. Hey! I uh..didn't really get to empty the trash bin out..so.." Stepping aside, she held an arm out. "Just don't go into the bedroom, I guess?" 

Eva didn't need him getting worried about the blood; she, Norman, and her doctors were all worried enough. 

[themeadgirl-blog]

Entry two.

I threw up blood this morning. I knew I was getting sick, but this is..fucking ridiculous. I've spent all day between the Acres and the Institute with Norman, who seems just as worried as I am. I'm not sure why he's so worried. Maybe it's a "too much death is happening" thing.

I am..afraid. If this is me dying, then I don't want it. That's what my family does though, I guess. We die. 

If this is cancer, then I honest to gods have no idea what I'm gonna do. I've just started over, just begun to get into the meat of my therapy, become friends with Peter, bust out of my shell. And then I go and start hacking up blood? 

This isn't what I meant when I said I wanted changes. 

[themeadgirl-blog]

I've been getting sick.

I've been so weak lately, and exhausted. I want to be lively and active, but it's like I'm being weighed down by something. It's kind of painful.

[giffingwho]

[themeadgirl-blog]

I need someone to accompany me around town.

[peterthegypsy]

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[themeadgirl-blog]

“Porridge wog?” he said slowly then smirked amid a perplexed expression. “If i didn’t know that offensive, I think I’d use it just because it sounds hilarious.” It did. Words were funny things to Peter Rumancek; and the combination of some were just amusing and fun to say.

But just as well, they walked along, him being willingly dragged with her, watching her profile closely. It was something he’d told himself he’d do.

He wouldn’t tell her - because he didn’t think she’d need to know - about his meeting with ‘Mara’ … and what that French woman told him about what Eva really was. He didn’t trust the Order, not one bit. Maybe she was a harpy, maybe she wasn’t and that was just something they’d said to pit him against her - but one thing was certain: Peter was going to watch over her. Because there was something about her. And right now? 

She seemed pretty fucking human to him.

And he would treat her like that. 

Eva was a person - and the moment you started treating someone as anything less than human was the moment that everything went to shit.

As she dragged him along, he studied the building around him and … ah! They’d just passed it. “Ahemmmmmmmm,” he cleared his throat, giving a slight tug of his arm in retaliation to her dragging, and stepping backwards toward the general store. He motioned toward the door with his head, indicating - you know - the need for supplies.

“How about something simple? Hm? You’re not a vegetarian, are you?”

"Yeah yeah," she huffed, nudging his side as he tugged her into the proper direction. Well, at least he knew that she wasn't kidding when she said she wasn't all to familiar with the town anymore. It was actually kind of sad how little Eva had gotten out lately; one would think that being in the same town for years, it wouldn't be easy to forget where you were going. "It's so hilarious. At least your racial slur sounds kind of  neat, even if it the meaning behind it is derogatory." Then again, it wouldn't be a racial slur if it didn't make people feel like shit.  

Releasing his wrist, Eva patted down her shorts for her little cloth wallet, pulling it out with a triumphant 'aha!' What would she have done without an escort? Walk around aimlessly, give the townsfolk a little more to talk about most likely. "Am I a vegetarian?" She gave Peter a grin, shaking her head. "I don't have a clue what I'd  do if I were a vegetarian. I like steak way too damn much." 

Eva didn't mind trying new things now and then, like sushi, calamari, and the like. Whether she liked the things she tried was a completely different story. "Alright, so I'm not a vegetarian. What do you suggest? I'm handing the title over to you, boss man." 

[ridleydaisy]

[themeadgirl-blog]

Your parents never told you, did they?

Obviously not.

[themeadgirl-blog]

I need someone to accompany me around town.

[peterthegypsy]

Well, it would appear that she had opted for his wrist instead of his shirt, and so it was that he just went along with her, the sway in his step as they started on their way.

Alright, since I guess I’m gonna be the boss lady, I’m going to drag you to town.

“Whatever you say, boss lady,” he replied with a playfully flamboyant salute of his free hand before dropping it to his side.

You have to use a little magic to find out where the best food is. Y’know, gypsy magic.

His eyes narrowed and his face scrunched. “You do realize I’m half-Italian, right?” Use of the word ‘gypsy’ was just as derogatory as saying ‘nigger’ or ‘spic’ or ‘chink’ - it was possible she didn’t know that; in fact, he was willing to bet on the fact that she didn’t know it, but it was fairly racist to use it. Most other Roma would have been offended, but Peter let it slide … because he knew this girl was likely ignorant on the subject.

“And, in being half-Italian, I can honestly tell you that the BEST food doesn’t come mass-produced in a restaurant’s kitchen, but from the home. Soooo, I’ll tell you what.” He pointed mischievously at her with a waggle of his finger. “You buy the ingredients, and I’ll  make you something.”

[themeadgirl-blog]

Eva's lips turned in, forming a line. Of course she'd managed to offend him already. Being Scottish herself, she didn't know much about Italians, other than the stereotypes of having big families, and being very loud. "Oh..uhm..if it helps, I'm Scotttish? As silly as it sounds, being called a 'porridge wog' or a 'jockie' is about the same to us." 

In all honesty, it probably didn't help at all. The redhead pulled him along, gently, but dragging nonetheless. She didn't mean to change the subject so quickly, but it was needed. "Okay, well..God, I can't actually think of anything I'd like to try. That, and I don't know shit about Italian food." Chewing her cheek, she glanced back at him. "What did you have in mind?"