goodweather | IC INBOX ( SAIL )

Hi. Can I talk to you?

[ Early on in the month, a new folder of photos appears on the recipient's phone. Inside is a selection of photos from various points in Darcy's childhood. Key photos are as follows;

-baptism and confirmation

-a handful of pictures from her first fencing lessons at 8, and subsequent first competition at 12. Features a medal presentation with three other girls about her age.

-Darcy on an idyllic looking farm somewhere mountainous, looking bored and uncomfortable in gumboots

-Darcy at a Christmas market, utterly delighted and chewing on some cured meat.

-a slightly blurry picture of her asleep on someone's shoulder as a toddler, drooling a bit.

-a single picture of her at a princess themed birthday party. Darcy wears the haunted expression of a war veteran and a bright orange flouncy dress.

-several embarrassing photos of her doing dumb kid shit that she is willing to murder over.

Any additional or specific photos I leave up to your discretion, go nuts have fun physically kill her with embarrassment. ]

[ There's a knock at his door at some point a bit before the wedding. ]

Phil? [ Darcy calls, ] You in? I need help with- it's just dumb or whatever but- yeah- if you're not busy.

I thought you might want to know that the thing turning our memories into playgrounds has made contact with Vance, who in turn told Fio that it promised "to eat her last."

Telling you now so that if Darcy mentions it, you won't be completely caught off guard. I'm not sure if there's anything to do more than prepare people for the possibility of another "ghost event."

It's the little sounds, so sharp to an owl's hearing. The faintest scrape of metal-on-metal, tiny adjustments that come with metal-on-cloth, pressed against dead flesh. The subtle squeeze of plush and cloth - stuffed animals, maybe, being held too tight? The faintest sounds of a voiceless throat trying to express a misery it will never be whole enough to speak aloud.

The creak of Phil's cabin door, when weight is adjusted against it. Someone is sitting in front of it, leaning against the steel.

Sometime in the evening, a text shows up on Phil's phone.

Master Connors, I've found something I would like to bring to you. May I?

The evening of dinner arrives, and Phil makes his way up to Hawk's apartment. It takes two knocks before the door opens, and there's a very rumpled looking Hawkeye with half his hair pressed flat against his face, awful stubble, a blanket around his shoulders, and a deep malaise about him.

...

"Dinner," he seems to remember quickly, pointing at Phil with both hands before half closing the door.

"Just a minute!" he calls back, and there's a sound of shuffling about before the sound of half a giraffe toppling.

Text, somewhere around 10/14-15-ish?

Not from Darcy

no subject

[text] briefly, while texting with fio + ava

September 2nd, Before Sunrise | Action

In the last few days of January

no subject