ic inbox (PH)

[goodweather]

MESSAGE ‎‏‏‎ ☀ ‎‏‏‎ DELIVERY ‎‏‏‎ ❄ ‎‏‏‎ ACTION

address: 499 Winter's Avenue (northwest hollow, farmland)

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[goodweather]

(( ooc: because i forgot to make a new inbox post in time: sometime in july, phil pays hawkeye a visit. ))

action, a couple weeks ago?

[littlefairytale]

It's late. Or very early, depending on your point of view. Only faint moonlight illuminates the room in cool tones, cutting the shape of it in silhouettes and reflecting strangely off the silver-lit eye of the girl sat at the dining table.

Ruby's sleep has been better, since they moved into the farmhouse. It's familiar in a way that nowhere else in the last few years has been, reminds her of being at home in Patch before everything went wrong. She still has bad nights, sometimes; mostly it's nightmares that make it difficult to fall back to sleep, but not tonight. Tonight, she just couldn't fall asleep at all.

And so she sits at the table, with a glass of milk (once upon a time it would have been tea, but she can't— she still can't do tea) and a snack, staring out into the farmland beyond the windows. Her hair is down, her eyepatch is on her bedside table, and she's wearing a nightgown that almost makes her look like a haunted doll.

It's subtle, but every noise in the house makes her freeze for a moment until she decides it's just the creak of a floorboard or the wind through the wood and she settles down.

givingstide.

[abhorrently]

The morning after the holiday, there is a small package at the farmhouse - the light dusting of frost on it might tell that it did not come through the mail. But it's marked for Phil.

Inside is a set of cufflinks, their distinguishing feature being the polished sea glass that they show off. Yet, it's different - clear melded with light green and blue, and a thin streak of brown, colors merged in a way that is both deliberate and pure chance. They aren't identical, but they complement each other.

And a note, folded in the back.

Happy Givingstide.
-F

the everyday turned solitary / so we came to february

[not_the_last]

The day Phil returns from being dead, he will get a message on his sending stone.

It's Cassandra, in a tone that would sound entirely calm and untroubled, to anyone who didn't know her well.

"Master Connors? I heard that," an infinitesimal pause, "you might be back today."