Completed A Flower for Your Thoughts? (Philomena)

[Leila]

Leila was disappointed to see that the deathly woman had not found her way to the Shrine. Leila quickly emptied her pockets onto a table, all the plant bits falling into a single pile. Shaco sniffed at the pile of herbs, his head now being scratched and petted. "Let's go find her, maybe she's still up the hill." The pair stepped back outside, Leila sighing, as her eyes moved up the hill. She wasn't there. They went up the hill to where Shaco had first assaulted the woman with excitement and curiosity. Leila studied the grasses, seeing them bent from where the woman had lain. She continued to scan the grass, her gaze landing on a circular indent in the ground. And then another a few steps away. The woman's illness, her injured hand... a cane! The woman had a cane! Leila followed the trail, with Shaco moseying alongside her. The path was very erratic, hinting at the woman's state of mind, zigzagging in the general direction of the road. Leila hurried her pace, and saw the woman hobbling along, muttering obscenities to no one in particular. She caught up to her, and rather than trying to convince the woman to come with her, Leila grabbed her by her clothes. She tugged lightly, and began pulling her back around, trying to steer her back toward the shrine. Shaco sniffed at the woman's injured hand, and licked it once, then shirked away from it. "I'll help you get back home, and make you some tea." Of course it was a lie, but it was for her own good.

[Philomena]

Minnie, eyes dimmed by sickness, ears hollow with distraction, leapt when her coat was grabbed by someone behind her, and shrieked - perhaps a bit louder than one normally ought to shriek in surprise. The noise is terrible, a ripping sound, tattering the broken throat. She pulls away - correction, she tries to pull away. She is far too weak. But she manages to throw herself off balance, crumpling toward the ground on her weak legs. She looks at the girl with a haunting terror in her brow, and gasps, not even noticing her injured hand being licked - the nerves in it are long dead now, anyway, unless it is jarred.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, do not touch, do not touch... do not otuch... please, please, please, please... do not touch... I don't want to make anyone sick, I don't want to make anyone sick."

[Leila]

Leila was surprised that the woman still had enough faculties to realize what was happening to her. What was even more surprising was that soul ripping sound that emanated from her body, a sound that would be more appropriate from a monstrous creature or evil nightmare demon, and not a frail, dying woman. She then proceeded to throw herself on the ground, and beg to not be touched. Leila nudged Shaco from her hand, "Stop that." Leila looked down at the woman, trying to figure out how to handle this situation. There was absolutely no way she was going to allow this addled woman to wander about on her own, not only would she probably end up endangering herself, but others as well. She decided to take the route her father would in the rare cases when he stood up to her mother. "Look, if you don't get back up and come with me to the Shrine, I will drag you there myself, plague or no. Do you want to cooperate, or spread your illness further? You will come, have a good cup of tea, maybe some decent conversation, then I will take you back to where ever it is you need to go, which should be the Infirmary. But you're a grown woman, you can choose to do as you please. But I'll be damned if I let you wander around like a drunkard and have something bad happen to you. I don't want that on my conscience." Leila crossed her arms and harrumphed, waiting on the woman's reply, hopefully a coherent, non-addled one.

[Philomena]

The woman draws into herself at this sudden assault and, yes, clarifies herself a bit, but not perhaps in the way Leila would have hoped. Her brow smooths, and her eyes close, and her lips relax. She breathes a deep breath, and opens the eyes, and they are, for the moment, placid, cold, almost scornful.

"Playing the hero does nae suit you, young miss. You dunny know a thing of it, do ye? You think a cuppa tea'll help something, do ye? You look just a bit deeper'n, mussy, and think on it."

Her voice is thick and burred with a brogue, but the anger in it is cold, still, iron.

"You're right, I'm a demmed sight, an' I 'aven't s'long left, 'strue. But your tea, is nae for my ailment, its for yours - that little bit of pity in ye, that needs to feel its done its bit. Sorry luck, mussy. Sometimes there ain't no bit for doing. I dunny need tea. I need to get home. I'm 'alf blind I am, so I may weave a bit, but I've walked this roads longer than you sucked at your mother's teat, mussy, I'll find it."

The wind blows over and her eyes soften a bit, and she almost reaches out to touch the girl's arm, but stops herself.

"My apologies, child, for frightening you, and settin' your dog athwarts."

[Leila]

Leila received the scolding with relative ease, thanks to the many years of living with her own mother. But maybe the woman had a point, Leila knew tea wouldn't magically cure the woman of her ailments, so perhaps it was her own kind heart breaking that needed healed. Leila pitied the woman, and felt terrible for doing so, for she wanted everyone in this city to be in a state where none would be pitied. But she still couldn't bring herself to just let the poor soul be. "I'm not frightened, just concerned, not about me, not about all the people around, but I'm concerned about you. You say there's nothing I can do for you, and you're probably right. I'm no doctor, I'm not Rak'keli or any of her chosen. What I am is a woman who cares and wants to help in any way possible, even if its making sure you make your way home unmolested, make you a fine cup of tea when you arrive, and lend an ear to whatever you feel like talking about. If you don't like it, fine, but I'm still going to follow you, regardless of how you feel. So continue your meandering path if you'd like, I'm returning to the shrine, and I'll say a quick prayer for you, and gather my supplies, and I'll catch up. And that's that." With that, Leila and Shaco turned back toward the shrine, making a quick pace. The two darted into the doorway, and stopped in front of the symbol of the goddess. Leila had never prayed for anyone before, but she decided that this would be her first time. She knelt on the wooden floor, looked up at the symbol, and closed her eyes, her hands resting on her thighs. "Rak'keli, I don't know if you can hear me, but I hope you do. I'm asking you to look over an ailed woman, near to me, as she walks home. She is not well, and could really use a helping hand. I know there are a lot of people hurting in the world, and you can't help them all. So if you can't help, I'll understand, and try and help in your stead. Thank you for everything you've done, are doing, and continue to do, I guess." Leila stood up, grabbed all the plants she'd gathered, and made her way back to the road, looking for the woman once again.

[Philomena]

Minnie frowns at the girls words, and pales just slightly, no longer the strong and angry woman, but rather a frightened child in the body of an old crone. As the girl begins running back to the shrine, she turns to totter weakly down the street. She pushes herself hard, as close to a run as her legs can manage. Her feet strike the stones of the street with a painful shudder up the fragile structures of her back. She groans very softly, trying to ignore the jarring pain of the movement. But she must escape, she must get away before this child, and her dog, return again. She must.

//There you are, Minnie Lefting, so petching brave, aren't we frightened of a girl who wants to make you tea? That's right. Run, Minnie Lefting run away to go rot in your gutter alone.//

//I'm not! I'm not frightened of her! Shut up, shut up!//

//You are--//

//I'm ashamed!//

Her mind is silent, for a moment, and she begins to mutter softly to herself, still tottering weakly along, unaware her internal dialogue has escaped her lips.

"Ashamed... ashamed. What can I show now? What am I? A dying old guttersnipe, a slut of th'street, ugly as sin, hiding in a rotting old flat, alone... alone... oh Lanie, Lanie... Lanie, I wish you had come home..."

[Leila]

Leila and Shaco looked down the street after they returned, spotting the tottering woman way down the way toward town. She moved quietly, slowly, keeping her distance at first, for the woman looked to be attempting to escape them, which made Leila's heart hurt a little. What had she done to scare the poor woman? She just wanted to help. She continued to walk behind her, careful to not kick any rocks, and tried to walk as quietly as the pads on Shaco's feet, though she wasn't sure she was succeeding. Zulrav's breath sent echoes of the woman's voice, of obscenities foul, descriptions that couldn't be accurate of the woman. But then Leila heard that name once more. Lanie. Maybe she could use that to get the woman to calm down some. She decided to make her presence more obvious now, no longer the silent steps, but more obvious ones, in hopes of not startling the woman. Leila slipped a mint leaf in her mouth, sucking on it nervously, enjoying the cooling tinge. It didn't take much effort until she was walking side by side with the woman, "I said a prayer to Rak'keli for you. So who knows, maybe she'll see to it that this cup of tea I hope to make for you will actually do you some good. I've heard she can do miraculous things for anyone." Leila was determined to follow alongside this woman until she reached her house, plague and addled stubbornness be damned.

[Philomena]

//Who is that?!//

Her mind jumped, and her body started slightly with it, hearing a strange voice in her ear. Whose was it? She searched hard, thinking, young, young, young. Female. Too high to be the Red Shoe, too warbling for Mara - but no, no, Mara was dead, and the Red Shoe, she had been years, and years, and years ago. She too was probably dead by now, a street performer with no apparent form of income. Likely turned prostitute. It suddenly filled Minnie with the desire to ask after her at Loveless, to see if they had old records. Whorehouses, she became convinced, in that instant of time, should hire archivists and keep very particular records. What a trove of information they would provide!

//Minnie Lefting, you forget there's a girl following you.//

She turned her head. Yes! The girl! The girl with the large dog, that terrifying dog that had tried to bite her, that smelled death on her. It was not a long walk to her house, and she realized she was there, and immediately felt a stab of remorse. What was there, now, to do? She had to show the girl in, there was no other choice. And the dog! What of the dog?

She walked to her stairwell, a set of narrow wooden steps that clung to the outside of a quiet tailor's shop. She tucked her stick, then, under her shoulder, and gripped the bannister hard, pulling herself slowly, painfully, up onto the first step.

[Leila]

Leila watched as the woman finally turned toward a stairwell next to a tailor's shop. Clearly this must be her home. Since she was so unsettled by Shaco, Leila commanded him to sit by the bottom of the stairwell, where he would wait for her. Her own home wasn't too far from here, and judging by the slow rate of the woman's climb, she had time. She quickly made her way back to her flat, Shaco obediently keeping his spot. She unlocked her door, skipped inside, and grabbed her pot, scrubbed clean from the night before, as well as her journal and art kit, and a couple of cups. If she could, she was going to try and record this woman's story in her journal, before her seemingly inevitable death. Maybe she could attempt at drawing her as well. It seemed as if this woman had no one left in the world, no to listen to her, no one to be there when she passed. She left her home, locking up, and made her way back to the Saville. Shaco was napping, opened a single eye to watch her approach. She bent down, rubbed his head, "Be a good guard dog." She then started the climb up the steps, hoping the woman was still a part of this world.

[Philomena]

Minnie clambered weakly up the steps, and stumbled into her flat. There was noone with her when she arrived, and yet... the dog still stood at the bottom. She frowned, confused, and stepped inside. Her flat was clean - more than this, it was nearly empty. The desk was clear, holding only a few pots of inks and meticulously lined up quills, and a single paper folded into an envelope, and sealed with the red-wax seal of the Sailor's Guild. The book-shelves were tidy, but almost clear, only a few parcels and books left on them. Her clothes still hung up, but her academic silks were gone, leaving only her tattered everyday clothes. The altar, finally, was clear. The doll that normally sat upon it, likely Minnie's most prized possession was not there. Instead, it lay on the rumpled bed, sitting across the pillow in a lopsided impassivity.

Minnie entered and set her satchel painfully down beside the bed before collapsing into it, heavily, catching her breath. She took the doll and pulled it in close to her breast, and rested for just a moment to get her voice back, then spoke softly, ever so softly.

"Nearly done, Mother Qalaya, nearly done... forgive me... forgive me, I needed one afternoon. Just in case. Just in case. I needed just this afternoon."

Her hand, the white one, stroked gently at the tattered yarn hair of the ugly prayer doll, and she spoke softly to it, cooing in the rough remnants of her voice.

"She was not there. She won't come, will she? You see, how I wanted her to. I do not know how to tell this last part of me without her. I dunny know what to do with the endings of me. I have done, though, what I can, with the other stories. I have done as well as I could. I have tried to keep them safe. Maybe that's all, Mother? Maybe I don't have a story. Maybe I just needed to take care of someone else's."

The door was open, to let the stale air of sickness out. The cold breeze of spring crawled across the backs of her thighs, where in rolling into bed, her skirt had revealed the bottoms of them.