[MSG:] so do u wanna teach me to drive or??
[TXT:] Do I “want” to? I’ve never thought about it!
[TXT:] Do you want me to teach you to drive?
[TXT:] I can do that.
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Today's Document
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Love Begins
YOU ARE THE REASON
d e v o n

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@vxera-blog
[MSG:] so do u wanna teach me to drive or??
[TXT:] Do I “want” to? I’ve never thought about it!
[TXT:] Do you want me to teach you to drive?
[TXT:] I can do that.
It wasn’t that James hated Christmas: he had never been that annoying kid who told everyone what they’d been wondering in the back of their minds: Santa isn’t real. In fact he liked the decorations and the cheesy commercials and Christmas specials airing on TV…. He just didn’t like them before it even hit December yet. Was it too much to ask that the calendar changed months before Mariah Carey’s signature high notes were stuck in his head for 25 days straight? The holiday cheer seemed to be infectious for everyone except James who had sulked off to the art room the only place in the place in the entire school that didn’t seem to be overflowing with Christmas cheer yet (it was only a matter of time, though, the decorations were waiting in a box in the corner of the room), once again proving itself as the one of the only places James felt really comfortable in.
His solitude was interrupted with the creaking of the door and the sound of ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’ finding him once again, “You mind closing the door?” James glanced at the person in the doorway, “I don’t know how much more Christmas music I can take.”
Vera had no opinion on Christmas. It was a day that commemorated the birth of Jesus Christ. His birth held little to no plausibility in her eyes, which meant that if he never existed, then what was there to commemorate? That is to say, actually existed, and not just in wild tales. Vera had effectively renamed it the Book of Lies because it preached impossibilities as truths, even for a world inhabited by mutants. The Bible. The last book she’d ever recommend to anyone. Unless, of course, they were in the mood for some satirical reading. Then again, Vera was apparently the only person in her immediate circle of friends who had found the Bible ridiculous enough to ensue hilarity. Were it not so universally known as ‘a collection of sacred texts’, she really would have assumed it to be a parody of some sorts. She almost wished it was.
At lunch, when Alice, Grace, Marielle, and even Livia, had begun talking about decorating their own classrooms, Vera had made it very clear that she wasn’t going to join in on the festivities. Not because she was a “sourpuss”, as she’d been called, but because she just didn’t understand it. Alas, somehow she’d been roped into retrieving the box of decorations from one of the art rooms, having been persuaded through a series of “pleases” from the other women. Mostly Grace. Vera took her time getting to the art block, mostly because she knew that once she’d retrieved the box of colourful assortments then she’d have to make her way back to her friends. The art teacher that the room belonged to had already started his vacation, so she’d expected the room to be empty when she finally got there.
Once she’d opened the door and slipped in, a voice made her start. Vera’s eyes sharply scanned the area for a face. They fell upon James, and she blinked, once, like a cat that was still trying to come to terms with the fact that someone else was there -- and talking to her. Eventually Vera did as was requested, placing a small hand to the door to close it. James’ obvious disgruntlement, albeit mild, was relatable enough, and she decided it warranted a smile. So she did. A small one. “Are you hiding from all of the festivities too?” She daintily ringed her hands together, stepping further into the room. “I can relate. Mariah Carey has played a total of thirty four times since this morning, you know. I don’t understand it. Suddenly it’s everywhere, as if everyone has been indoctrinated by Mariah Carey overnight.” Vera hesitated. “Except for you and I, apparently.”
(Nathan) [MSG]: If I were to hypothetically let your son watch crime shows.... hypothetically.... would you be mad?
[TXT:] Weston can see and interact with dead people…
[TXT:] I would only be mad if you let him experience CSI: Miami.
[TXT:] That was an awful show.
[MSG:] vera it's hashtag. not hashbrown
[TXT:] That doesn’t make any sense.
[TXT:] Neither did “hashbrown” but that isn’t the point.
[TXT:] “Hashtag” This Is Stupid.
[MSG:] do you think weston would like a puppy??
[TXT:] He would. He has already said, on multiple occasions, that he would like a dog.
[TXT:] But he’s very allergic.
[TXT:] If you’ve bought him a dog, take it back.
Scarlett’s eyes had stayed fixed on the books that now lay across the aisle, and as such hadn’t realized that it was Vera that she’d crashed the trolley into. Pregnant Vera. When she heard the voice her head snapped up, eyes widening, and she side-stepped past the trolley to move a little closer to the woman. “Uh – detention. Are you okay? Sorry. I didn’t see it was you. Obviously. Not like I was intentionally trying to ram a cart full of books into people.” Her eyes flickered briefly to Vera’s small bump, and she folded her arms as she cleared her throat. The librarian had appeared at the other end of the aisle by then, frowning and with her mouth half open like she was going to shout, but she must have changed her mind upon spotting another teacher stood there. Scarlett was thankful for it; the last thing she needed was another lecture of the reptilian book overlord, who disappeared around the corner once again.
For a moment she looked down at the books on the floor and considered starting to pick them up, but decided to focus her attention back on Vera. “Why did you sound so surprised about me being in the library? It’s not that weird. What are you doing in the library?”
“Well, I feel okay, but that’s only an assumption. It’s not definite. I could be not okay but just... not know it yet.” Vera paused, brows pulling together as she looked around the area. “The library is ill equipped. I can’t accurately tell you my level of okay right now.” She again paused, but this time it was accompanied by the tiniest upturn of her lips. “And I forgot my thermometer at home.” Her tone lacked the lilt that would have construed her words for what they were: a joke. “That was a joke, by the way. I don’t carry around a thermometer. Though I might start, actually. It’s not a bad idea.” Another older woman appeared in the aisle they stood in, and Vera, very aware of her surroundings at all times, immediately caught her stare. The librarian merely gave a tight, polite smile, then a nod and a wave at Vera before disappearing again. Vera gave her no response facial wise, nor in a gesture, merely looked at her until she’d gone. “I don’t think that woman is very fond of you. Not that I can blame her when you do this to all of her books.” Her eyes slowly travelled to the girl’s face, then lower, to strewn books across the carpet. The messy display made her hands itch, so she clasped them together in hopes of quenching the desire to clean it up. When asked what she was doing in the library, she gave an immediate answer. “Hiding from Miss Anderson.” A simple answer. “What exactly did you do to get a detention?”
[MSG:] you're late!! what's taking so long?
[TXT:] Weston.
[TXT:] He has decided that today he is going to be difficult.
[TXT:] You also didn’t need to declare my lateness. I’m well aware! And as a result I think I might be experiencing a small panic attack. I’m not sure. I will time my heart rate.
Scarlett had been given extended detention for the last two days (something about how throwing encyclopedias at people in the library was dangerous – though in her defense, she said, they were being loud and annoying) and she could have sworn the librarian holding the detentions hated her. Probably had something to do with Scarlett throwing her precious first edition books around, but she didn’t think that gave the woman any right to have her stacking shelves whilst everyone else got to sit in mindless silence. She also could have sworn that the librarian filled the book cart with the heaviest books possible, just to put her through more pain and suffering. But it’d been made clear to Scarlett that if she skipped out on these detentions she’d be sent to isolation instead, and if anything that was even worse.
So she pushed the cart along the library aisles, grumbling to herself and shoving books into the place closest to where she thought they’d go. They should have gone in alphabetical order or something like that, but frankly she hadn’t been listening when the librarian had explained and she didn’t really care. Most of the time she stared at the large clock above the library doors, willing the hands to turn faster so she could leave. The library had always been her least favourite place in the school (perhaps only second to the pool) and having to spend time in there unwillingly definitely didn’t put her in a good mood.
About five minutes before she was supposed to be able to leave, the librarian came along and dumped another load of books on the cart, the same lot she’d just put away, and said she couldn’t leave until they were all in the correct place and not thrown around wherever she felt like putting them. Scarlett had the sudden urge to push her over and send all the shelves toppling like dominoes. But then she’d probably only have to clean it up, so she jerked the cart around as the librarian walked away, pushing it forward and glaring at the old woman over her shoulder. And she was so busy glaring at the reptilian bitch that she didn’t see anyone come around the corner of the bookshelf, and so she ran the cart right into them, effectively overturning it and sending the books flying everywhere with an incredibly loud crash.
“Oh for f– can you watch where you’re going?!”
Vera was not a frequent visitor to the library, contrary, perhaps, to popular belief. It was no secret that she read a lot, in fact her shelves at home may actually have rivalled those belonging to Alistair Grismond. The only difference being the chosen genres; and the fact that hers were kept alphabetically arranged, amongst other things. They even had their own little, plastic pouches to fit into. To keep out the dust. Books were not prized possessions to Vera, though she kept them so immaculate it was easy to see why some would think it. If someone asked why she was in the library right then, she wouldn’t have had an accurate answer. She wasn’t browsing the library’s wares, though she scanned one aisle so intently that anyone would have thought she was trying to solve a puzzle. But her eyes merely skimmed across titles, taking in the colours of their covers rather than what they were actually named. The quiet, of late, had become more of a comfort to her than the white noise she normally favoured.
...That and Alice was currently trying to hunt her down so that she might force her to give up her work shoes. According to Alice, Vera’s footwear was an eyesore, and despite Vera’s immediate response that she liked her shoes and would not get rid of them, the other woman had been (and continued to be) persistent. She was rubbing gentle circles into the side of her small bump when she stepped into the next aisle, to promptly have a trolley connect with her heel. It hurt a little, but came as such a surprise that Vera barely reacted at all. Instead she stood and watched as the trolley tipped over, sending copious amounts of books toppling to the floor. Her eyes only lifted to the offender when they spoke up, and she blinked a few times, as if that was telling of her delight at seeing Scarlett. At the near use of profanity, Vera’s head tilted. “You would have been less likely to run into someone with your trolley if you’d steered its front away from the corner. People tend to keep to the sides of pathways and --” She hesitated. “What are you doing in a library?”
[Scarlett] [MSG:] i don't know where you went or why you left but i need you to come back
[DISCONNECTED]
[Scarlett] [MSG:] there's too much fresh air here. im suffocating.
[TXT:] There is... too much fresh air... and you’re suffocating...
[TXT:] Where are you right now? I’m coming to find you so that I can explain, in detail, why that message is a paradox.
[Scarlett] [MSG:] weston fell out of a tree and broke his arm so we're gonna need you at the infirmary asap
[TXT:] You let him climb a tree? Why would you let him do that?
[TXT:] I’m on my way. You won’t be getting carrot cake later.
[Scarlett] [MSG:] i understand why you did what you did but that doesn't mean i can just forgive it
[TXT:] I know. I don’t expect you to forgive me.
[TXT:] I’m relieved to hear that you understand, at least.
[TXT:] And I’d like to make it up to you. Really. Please consider letting me.
[MSG:] who tf is bobby and why does weston keep talking about him??
[TXT:] His spirit friend.
[TXT:] [A picture of a man is sent through].
[TXT:] I did some research on him and have made a folder. Do you want to read it?
[TXT:] He seems nice.
[MSG:] me and weston are going to italy for pizza and ice cream so if u come home and we're not there... thats why
[TXT:] Make sure you take one of my bottles of hand sanitiser with you.
[TXT:] And don’t let him eat too much ice cream. It irritates his stomach.
[Send one for my muses reaction to your muse] ▤ = falling asleep on them.
Vera had noticed the girl drifting in and out of consciousness for the past fifteen minutes, but said nothing on it, nor made any inclination of her awareness. Scarlett had tried staying awake, though her head had dipped a few times as if sleep might take her soon. They rarely got to spend time together, just the two of them, these days. This was the first quiet night they’d had in weeks, and Vera was thankful for it. Weston was tucked nicely into his crib upstairs, and there was no sense of impending doom on the horizon. Perhaps she could kid herself into thinking that, from here on out, everything was going to be fine; in the flickering light of the television, it seemed almost easy. Vera was just about to suggest that Scarlett go to bed too when the girl’s head suddenly fell against her shoulder. Vera listened to the girl take in a long breath, and waited for her to let it out again before she smiled. Scarlett trusted her again. With little hesitancy, Vera rest her cheek atop the girl’s head and hummed once, gently; happily. She wondered if this was what it would have been like, nineteen years down the line, with her own daughter, and concluded that yes, this was exactly what it would have been like.
♦: Our muses wrap presents together.
“--Wait, are you just going to cut the wrapping paper like that?” Vera actually looked horrified for a moment, staring at the scissors in Scarlett’s hands, the blade of which was just about to slice through the middle of a cartoon penguin in a Santa Claus hat. Vera held a ruler in one hand, frozen in place. “We have to measure each gift and then every bit of wrapping paper before we do any cutting.” Her lips twitched, as did her left eye, albeit the movement was very subtle. “And you’re going to sever that penguin if you move those scissors anymore than you already have.” Brows lifting, the woman gave the most serious of looks. “You’re not going to give Weston a wrapped present with a dismembered penguin printed on it. This is Christmas, not Halloween.” Vera paused for a very, very long time, without any inclination of dropping her strict facade. It was just before Scarlett was about to speak that Vera’s demeanour shifted, and she tilted her chin up, the corners of her lips twitching. “That was a joke.” A discreetly smug smile slipped itself across Vera’s face as she watched Scarlett relax, though it abruptly fell when the girl started to cut the paper again. “No that wasn’t a part of the joke! We really are going to measure all of this first -- stop!” In her small panic, she smacked the ruler across Scarlett’s knuckles, not too hard, but enough to make a sound. At which point Vera pulled it back and pinched the ruler’s other end with her other hand, looking sheepish.
scxrlettniles:
Scarlett only nodded, not saying any more about Vera’s late night gym trip. She suspected the reason the woman wanted to be alone in the gym was because of the scar she’d hurried to cover up even in Scarlett’s presence; Vera had never been the type of person to want to talk about her feelings, or even open up that much to anyone. The scar was a topic of conversation she didn’t want to go into, and covering it up stopped it from being in most people’s minds. Despite the fact the two of them hadn’t spoken all that much in the months following the tragic incident, the times they had were the times that Scarlett had tried to speak properly with Vera about what had happened. That was part of the reason most of their conversations were cut short, and had long periods of silence between them. She’d kept asking even though Vera wasn’t ready to speak about it, something she’d only recently realised. Eventually she nodded. “Yeah, I can bet you were going a little stir crazy in there. Does it feel better? Getting out for a little while?” The gym, she supposed, was better than nothing. As Vera spoke a frown grew on Scarlett’s face, and she swallowed as her hands fidgeted inside her pockets. Priscilla. Even the name made her uncomfortable now, and she could imagine the sensation was worse was worse for Vera. She took another step towards the woman but didn’t draw too close. “Like a ghost, right?” For a moment she chewed on her bottom lip, struggling to find the right thing to say. “She’s not… really a ghost. I asked Ash to check. Just to be safe.” Scarlett had heard some terrible things that ghosts could do – if Priscilla was hanging around in a more tangible afterlife, she wanted to be sure the woman couldn’t get her undead hands on Vera. “But I know what you mean. Like there’s some kind of imprint following you around, right?”
Vera stared and said nothing else for a moment, lips slowly thinning the longer she thought about Scarlett’s question. “No, it doesn’t.” She answered, honest. Her guard slipped a little, and she had to look away and take in a breath before continuing. “It’s difficult to switch off my thoughts. I haven’t been able to do it for months.” She cupped her hands together, looking down at them for a few long seconds. “I’m tired.” Her last words left her in a sigh, and her shoulders slumped a little (at least as much as her posture’s strictness would allow). Vera found it much easier to relax around Scarlett than she did with anyone else, but the feeling was one of the most foreign things she had ever experienced. Whenever she felt herself slipping, she would clam right back up again, almost like it pained her to be anything but. Not knowing what to do with her hands all of a sudden, she crossed her arms.
Scarlett’s next words made a short burst of air escape through her nose, like the subject was silly; like she was embarrassed. “Yes, exactly like that.” Vera looked up when she heard Scarlett move closer. She almost considered asking for a hug, of all things, but she squashed the feeling because it left her with this queasy knot in her belly. “It’s funny that I never used to believe in ghosts, all things considered. I can manipulate the human body and you can create portals. Ghosts should not have been my biggest scepticism.” She rambled the slightest amount, uncomfortable, and remained silent for another few seconds to just think. When a certain thought came to mind, she hesitated, and again looked at Scarlett. “Thank you.” Vera nodded once before continuing. “Not for saving me and my son, that’s not -- I already said thank you for that. I’m saying thank you for something else.” She licked her lips because she found they’d grown somewhat drier. “I think... I think you understand me the most.” Out of everyone in my life. “I know that I haven’t given you much reason to believe that lately, but it is true. That’s how I feel.”