Mabel only had infrequent memories of the clinic; her family had kept to themselves while they were still living. Independent. Numb. Mystifying. Regardless, she’d waltzed into it only several times in her short life before Ascending, and so only barely noted when it had reopened.
The inclination to help wasn’t truly there; not now, not after being swept away in her latest stint. No altruistic bone in her body, this was merely to get upon the good side of anyone in a heavily trafficked area; thinking, perhaps, if Evelyn were to be injured, she might be brought here. She might be told her sister was alive. She might’ve been seen.
A one-track mind, perhaps, but her twin had been all she had for a long time.
So she too was like a ghost, maneuvering through sanctuaries like a piece of willowy thread; though she’d bathed recently, so the seaweed and salt no longer clung to her as visceral, visual reminders of her death, of her damnation. When glancing in, she could only note the other Ascended – recognized merely from the Festival, when they’d all been called, and so, segmented she wouldn’t know about her sibling’s whereabouts either.
The youth hid the semblance of a frown away, and only eerily glided in, glancing around for things that needed to be done. A farm girl was worth at least some proportion – and so she aimed for the pillows, the sheets. [say]“I can change these,”[/say] by way of offering, and then proceeded to do just that.
--
Mabel goes for changing the pillows and sheets!
The inclination to help wasn’t truly there; not now, not after being swept away in her latest stint. No altruistic bone in her body, this was merely to get upon the good side of anyone in a heavily trafficked area; thinking, perhaps, if Evelyn were to be injured, she might be brought here. She might be told her sister was alive. She might’ve been seen.
A one-track mind, perhaps, but her twin had been all she had for a long time.
So she too was like a ghost, maneuvering through sanctuaries like a piece of willowy thread; though she’d bathed recently, so the seaweed and salt no longer clung to her as visceral, visual reminders of her death, of her damnation. When glancing in, she could only note the other Ascended – recognized merely from the Festival, when they’d all been called, and so, segmented she wouldn’t know about her sibling’s whereabouts either.
The youth hid the semblance of a frown away, and only eerily glided in, glancing around for things that needed to be done. A farm girl was worth at least some proportion – and so she aimed for the pillows, the sheets. [say]“I can change these,”[/say] by way of offering, and then proceeded to do just that.
--
Mabel goes for changing the pillows and sheets!
