[ This time, not even a fight with her older brother Oswald can be the excuse for her current state of restlessness. Then again, there is little necessity in making up an excuse for a personality trait as intrinsic to Lacie Baskerville’s state of being as the yearning for freedom.
When dawn arrives, Lacie does not wake up in her own bed. Instead, she emerges bare-footed from the foliage that surrounds the estate. Caught in an euphoric sluggishness, she guides herself in the direction of her tower, the cage chosen by the Baskervilles that would bring misfortune onto this world.
She pushes the door ajar to reveal the stairwell leading to her room. Gaze directed to the ceiling, her stomach fills with a faint sense of dread, but the feeling is both familiar and useless enough for Lacie to disregard entirely. A slight skip in her step, she ascends and stops just as she arrives at the very top stair. Just as she does, Lacie raises her hand to examine a fresh, horizontal cut across her palm.
This was going to be difficult to hide. She never quite cared about getting into trouble, especially in the sense of hurting others. However, there were always consequences, always in the form of inconveniencing herself, this wholly selfish girl. ]
[ He's never done much to stop Lacie from wandering out of the tower. She'll always return to them, that's what matters. Their little child of misfortune seeks any bit of freedom she can while she's still alive and he figures that's fair.
Levi had a feeling she wasn't in her room this morning and ventured over to the tower. Sure enough, her bed is empty. A breath of amusement leaves him as he walks into the room fully, looking for signs of plotting, or perhaps she just walked right out the door, who knows? He never really studied her leaving before, never really cared where she goes or what she does as long as she returns to him in one piece.
He decides to take a seat down near the window, watching the dawn arrive quietly and contently. He's not as strong as he used to be either. He's starting to feel his age, perhaps, and enjoys the peaceful moments just as much as the turbulent ones.
When he hears the door to her room opening, he turns, looking at Lacie from head to foot. He clicks his tongue lightly. ]
[ Catching sight of Levi’s shadow cast upon the floor as she stands by the entrance, her red eyes rise to regard him directly and unflinchingly. No longer as young as she once was, her temper no longer flaring at every single transgression, she still does remain a woman built from whims and fancies. A state of being that the white-haired man seems extraordinarily familiar with, if only to satiate his own vague amusements. Lacie will never profess to knowing what runs through his mind. Few appear to carry that capability within them. What she perceives is a man — her companion, one so close to her, yet so far from her — caught up in one of the roles of this mad world, similar to herself.
In a fluid, futile motion, she loosely balls up her injured hand around the blistering blossom in her palm. Maybe Lacie just doesn’t want to deal with this, but in actuality, it is because she doesn’t want to talk to him about it. She doesn’t want Levi to see her weaknesses, despite the fact that they are so glaringly obvious to begin with, especially to him. ]
Why? [ A light-hearted beginning as she looks away and begins to meander in the direction of her dresser. Suddenly, she stops in her tracks, as though she remembers something, like his countless ‘promises’ for more entertainment. Another may have been more satisfied — and she had long since accepted her particular role in this world — but her appetite for more remains insatiable. Lacie then smiles brightly towards Levi and the morning sun behind him. ] Do we have plans for today?
[ He notices her ball her hand up almost instantly, as if he's in tune to every little movement she makes that's out of the ordinary. He doesn't immediately say or do anything about it. It doesn't seem pressing at the moment. Instead he moves his gaze from her hand to her face, watching her silently as she moves across the room.
Even her movements betray her whimsical nature. Though Levi has always found that sort of charming about Lacie. She's like a rare, flighty little creature that he has the pleasure of keeping in this special little tower.
He stands up, slowly making his way toward her. He removes a handkerchief from one of his suitcoat pockets as he does this. When he's close enough, he reaches for her injured hand, and if she gives it to him he quietly dabs at it with the handkerchief to clean it up. ] Why? Because you were gone, of course. And I wondered where you went this time. If some little thing would tempt you to stay away this time. [ He smiles the way he always does, as if he has secrets he'll never tell the rest of the world and he rather likes that fact. ] I'm glad it didn't.
[ If she had let him tend to her hand, he would release it at this point, looking up at her, his smile grown a little bit lazy. ] I have promised you things. I haven't forgotten.
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no subject
When dawn arrives, Lacie does not wake up in her own bed. Instead, she emerges bare-footed from the foliage that surrounds the estate. Caught in an euphoric sluggishness, she guides herself in the direction of her tower, the cage chosen by the Baskervilles that would bring misfortune onto this world.
She pushes the door ajar to reveal the stairwell leading to her room. Gaze directed to the ceiling, her stomach fills with a faint sense of dread, but the feeling is both familiar and useless enough for Lacie to disregard entirely. A slight skip in her step, she ascends and stops just as she arrives at the very top stair. Just as she does, Lacie raises her hand to examine a fresh, horizontal cut across her palm.
This was going to be difficult to hide. She never quite cared about getting into trouble, especially in the sense of hurting others. However, there were always consequences, always in the form of inconveniencing herself, this wholly selfish girl. ]
no subject
Levi had a feeling she wasn't in her room this morning and ventured over to the tower. Sure enough, her bed is empty. A breath of amusement leaves him as he walks into the room fully, looking for signs of plotting, or perhaps she just walked right out the door, who knows? He never really studied her leaving before, never really cared where she goes or what she does as long as she returns to him in one piece.
He decides to take a seat down near the window, watching the dawn arrive quietly and contently. He's not as strong as he used to be either. He's starting to feel his age, perhaps, and enjoys the peaceful moments just as much as the turbulent ones.
When he hears the door to her room opening, he turns, looking at Lacie from head to foot. He clicks his tongue lightly. ]
I was wondering when you might return.
no subject
In a fluid, futile motion, she loosely balls up her injured hand around the blistering blossom in her palm. Maybe Lacie just doesn’t want to deal with this, but in actuality, it is because she doesn’t want to talk to him about it. She doesn’t want Levi to see her weaknesses, despite the fact that they are so glaringly obvious to begin with, especially to him. ]
Why? [ A light-hearted beginning as she looks away and begins to meander in the direction of her dresser. Suddenly, she stops in her tracks, as though she remembers something, like his countless ‘promises’ for more entertainment. Another may have been more satisfied — and she had long since accepted her particular role in this world — but her appetite for more remains insatiable. Lacie then smiles brightly towards Levi and the morning sun behind him. ] Do we have plans for today?
no subject
Even her movements betray her whimsical nature. Though Levi has always found that sort of charming about Lacie. She's like a rare, flighty little creature that he has the pleasure of keeping in this special little tower.
He stands up, slowly making his way toward her. He removes a handkerchief from one of his suitcoat pockets as he does this. When he's close enough, he reaches for her injured hand, and if she gives it to him he quietly dabs at it with the handkerchief to clean it up. ] Why? Because you were gone, of course. And I wondered where you went this time. If some little thing would tempt you to stay away this time. [ He smiles the way he always does, as if he has secrets he'll never tell the rest of the world and he rather likes that fact. ] I'm glad it didn't.
[ If she had let him tend to her hand, he would release it at this point, looking up at her, his smile grown a little bit lazy. ] I have promised you things. I haven't forgotten.