poly_chromatic | » 6; audio

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bones - angela montenegro

» 6; audio

Just because the lights are on doesn't mean anybody's actually home, or in this case, the shop's actually open. Sorry to break your little precious hearts, but there'll be no Visitors' Day specials today at Passione. Yes, I understand other shops are doing it, but not this one, mainly because we're closed at this hour of the night.

[And currently there are a lack of employees and such other things a business requires.]

Feel free to stop by and tell this lone worker hello if you care to, maybe bring me a coffee and a donut, maybe a late night dinner too. Just saying. It'll be your good deed for the day.

[ooc: Action/Audio welcome since she's at the shop. Everything is fair game except anything past S4 of Bones. Anything else she can easily forgot by *~*magic*~*.]

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[Wow, just look at this smug asshole walking into your shop in the dead of night.]

Did someone say dinner?

[Arms appropriately laden with food and beverages, Cinna sneaks in the back and up the stairs. He's not sure he should be doing this, but he is.

He just has no idea how she'll react when he knocks on the office door.]

[Oh geez. He'll find her sitting on the floor in front of a cardboard box full of fabric, yet she manages to find a smile for him because come on, it's Finnick.]

But who said blond egotistical bastard?

It's bronze. But two out of three isn't bad, so I'll still give it to you.

[He walks over and extends a hand to help her to her feet, as nonchalant as ever, like it's not a big freakin' deal that he's back for a visit right now.]

Now c'mere.

[Angela's startled, for lack of a better word, to hear a knock on the inner office door. The shop's locked and she didn't expect Ginny to stop by tonight. In fact, quiet as it's kept, Angela's starting not to expect anybody on days like these because she's learned that if she gets her hopes up that's when the people she wants to see the most don't show and all she's left is wanting them more. No wanting, no disappointment, nobody's left unhappy. Totally not her usual routine, but it's what works here.

Dropping her pencil and sketch pad on the desk, Angela slowly moves to the door, pulling it open inch by inch, not quite sure what she's going to get on the other side.]

Cinna...

[His name is like a breath of a prayer, like she doesn't want to believe he's here again, to believe that the tables are turned this time.]

[She knows the difference, but Angela never misses an opportunity to stick it to Finnick. That offered hand is accepted and he gets pulled in for a tight hug.]

You idiot. I missed you.

[Silently, she's checking his body temp to see if he's cold. Like all the other dead people here. One never knows with the bits and bobs and feelings she got about Panem.]

[The hug doesn't catch him by surprise, since that was frankly what he was planning to do once she was on her feet, anyway. Funny how you get to missing little things like that, tactile contact, when you've been dead for a long time.

Since he is, of course, dead.]

Of course you missed me. I'm a missable guy.

[But naturally, he doesn't hug most of the ladies who miss him the way he's holding Angela right now.]

You want to tell me what you're doing here so late?

[He holds the bags and drink containers up as a peace offering.]

You mentioned being hungry. I hope I've remembered your favorites.

[So now he just stands there, not knowing what to do. Composed on the outside, terrified on the inside. Hardly any time's passed for him, it was literally yesterday since he saw her last, but for her. He can now remember months. Lonely, lonely months when he was alone between these visits and now... now it's her. And his heart aches for it.]

[It's that split second of realization that breaks her on the inside and makes her hold him just a little bit tighter.]

What happened?

[It's a question she doesn't want to ask but it's an answer she needs to know.]

That's what I'm asking you. I know you're not holed up in here just to wait around for me to show up and take you out on the town.

Finnick... [Don't make her state the obvious.] You're cold.

[He glances down, giving himself a once-over.]

Actually, I'm pretty comfortable. It's nice weather outside. Summer.

[It's been exactly thirty days for her. A whole month of an emotional rollercoaster where Angela's just coming out of the shakiest car and finding her footing on solid ground again. How he looks so calm, she'll never know because her own eyes are open wide and a range of feelings cross her face. Good feelings. She's happy to see him, even for this feeling moment, but in between that are lashings of worry about will he be gone tomorrow, will this be the last time she'll ever see him?

But all of a sudden, Angela laughs completely out of nowhere.]

It's your office. You don't have to wait for permission to come in.

[Pulling back, Angela takes a few steps back and crosses her arms in front of her. She's trying not to cry. She's lost Cinna already, albeit by him just returning home, but here's another friend of her, long gone only to come back dead from God knows what and he's dancing around the question.

It's Finnick. It's what he does. Why is she so surprised?]

So we're just going to pretend that nothing is wrong here?

No, I seem to recall leaving some very explicit instructions about who's office this was to be after I was gone. I'm not here to step on toes.

[But he is going to come inside anyway, a slight smile at the edge of his lips at her laugh. Better than tears, which are what he feared. But to keep the tone light, he's going to busy himself setting out the food on the desk, being careful not to move things around too much or pry.]

[It isn't until he sees the look on her face that it really clicks, and then gradually his smile turns from amused to gentle, a certain warmth seeping into his features that isn't reflected in the chill of his limbs.]

Oh. You meant that kind of cold.

[He reaches up with one hand and cups her face, running his thumb over her cheek. It won't surprise him one bit if she knocks his hand away, but hey, it's Finnick, personal space has never been something he pays much heed.]

We can still pretend that nothing is wrong, if you want. Mostly because nothing is wrong.

I don't want to. Why won't you tell me what happened, Finnick?

[Tell her how you died. Tell her you at least died happy. Died doing what you loved.]

[Not a chance. She always did hate it when he lied to her.]

Because "hey, I'm back, and I have a surprise for you: I'm dead" makes for a really terrible conversation opener?

[He shakes his head a little.]

Nothing's wrong, bonita. I mean it. I'm really okay. Better than I've been in a long time.

Well, we kinda fudged those instructions so technically, it's still yours since we actually haven't gotten around to doing anything yet.

[Or more like she hasn't felt like doing anything until recently. Packing up his belongings, touching any of this designs always felt too soon, too disrespectful. If he looks closely at the desk, he will notice that everything is still as he had it, the only exceptions being an empty coffee cup and her sketch pad.

With his back turned to her, Angela loses herself for a moment and rushes toward Cinna, wrapping her arms around his waist, just to feel him against her one last time. If he pushes her away, she'll respect that. Different times, different worlds. Whatever they had is probably over now and there's just no need to hold on to what's not there anymore.]

You're dead. Usually that is a little less than better than anybody's been in a long time.

[This is supposed to be a happy occasion, but here Angela's trying to hold her tears back because she cries at everything and damn everything in this world and others.]

Edited 2012-06-30 06:01 (UTC)

Since when have I ever been what's usual?

[Angela, don't make him kiss you to fix those tears.]

Would you rather hear that I got married?

I'm sure you will eventually. I know you, if I didn't think-

[As always she takes him by surprise, but with the memories still flooding in, he reacts as he always does, placing his arms over hers and holding her in return before turning to pull her into his arms properly.]

It hasn't been long enough has it? It's all too fresh for you. I'm so sorry.

[Married and then died, which doesn't make this any better.]

How about we start with what I asked first that then we go onto the good news. Bad news first usually makes the good news better.

You left on the first. Today's the thirtieth.

[Before the City, Angela's never been one to count the days with any sort of precision, but she's been marking off each one on a calendar for as long as she's been here. With just a glance, she can tell you what even happened on which day.

Some dates, particularly days that put her through the ringer, she has committed to memory.]

It's not your fault. Are you happy?

[Back at home, she means.]

[He shrugs a little.]

Things got kind of intense and I lost my head.

[OH, FINNICK, YOU AND YOUR MORBID SENSE OF HUMOR.]

But I made a difference. Nothing wrong with that.

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» 6; audio

/snipes first

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you were waiting in the bushes, i know.

bodyslamming f5 on the flist all the way

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poor f5. what did it even do to deserve such a fate?

it took on the duty of being the refresh key, naturally

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