justwantsafety: (peeking)
Effects: Happiness and contentment. ♥ ...and then it devolves into a whole lot of confusion and doubt.


A darkened room. A view of the ceiling. Light blue paint, and spots of pale yellow, the kind that should glow in the dark, visible near the tiny slivers of the early morning sun barely peeking in over the curtains' tops, a strong yellow that turns the blue into green. The spots are stars, if anyone recognizes the patterns -- the Big Dipper, Draco, Cassiopeia, the Little Dipper with a light bulb where Polaris should be, the fixture taken out and replaced with a smaller dome just for that reason. Around the dreamer, soft sheets. Warmth. Someone else's warmth, and soft skin, a body's welcome weight on the dreamer's arm.

Don't worry, it's G-rated, just cut for length. :) )


Harley pulled the Dreamberry out from under the pillow again, now finally awake. He pushed himself up to sitting, freeing himself of his sheets, his expression somewhere between confused beyond belief and stressed out.

"Abel? Rise?" He looked over to his bedroom door, unaware that the Dreamberry had broadcast anything, not thinking about it yet as he wiped his eyes and made a halfhearted effort to brush his wild orange hair back with a hand before getting up to peek out into the hall. Confirming what house he was in, at least, he went back to the bed to sit down again, not paying any attention to how he rubbed at the faintly-glowing mark on the back of his left hand.

In a whisper to himself, obviously not expecting anyone else to hear him, "What the hell was that?"

((For those curious: the ringtone would be the Rainbow Connection. I could not resist. ♥))
justwantsafety: (._.)
((Effects: Curiosity, hunger, some mild sense of accomplishment, and a sort of warmth and fondness turning to sadness at the end, missing the big guy.
Note: First-person as usual. And the food smells will likely make someone hungry! Also, if it's in the narrative, you're free to assume your char gets that info as they watch.))


Harley was in the kitchen again. Bacon and eggs were in pans on the stovetop, one of each. He knocked an egg on the side of the pan and stuck his fingers into the crack, pulling it apart and letting the egg itself drop down onto the frying pan, where it began to turn white on the bottom, where it touched. He dropped the pieces of shell into the trash can nearby, and picked up the spatula to turn over the bacon, those browning strips of marbled meat, the smell of which was getting to him, making his stomach growl a little louder and the mark on the back of his left hand glow faintly.

Someone had been there, teaching him to do this, once. )

Harley watched as the last piece in the pan landed halfway outside it, and lifted it up to put it back inside.

"See, you're getting it already."

Noireau, now well grown, watched him calmly from where she lay, in the living room, one of her toys between her paws. Rise was still upstairs this early in the morning, probably sleeping in. The kitchen was empty, save for him. Abel's presence hadn't graced the kitchen for months now, but some part of the back of Harley's mind still half expected him to step in, to peek over at what Harley was doing, to give him that subtle smile of approval which only seemed to touch his eyes.

Harley sighed and set down the spatula, bringing his hands up to wipe the leaking -- the tears, as he always had to correct himself still -- away.

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justwantsafety: (Default)
Harley, Leader of the Vanguards

April 2015

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