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| Escaping Wick; PJ/Ada | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Apr 1 2014, 02:20:10 AM (268 Views) | |
| PJ Beckett | Apr 1 2014, 02:20:10 AM Post #1 |
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*Laney; s:c | w:d
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2 April 2041 PJ knew why Colin insisted that she not go anywhere unless her hair was stick straight. Dinwiddie hair was unmistakable. It was unmistakable, dangerous, and generally the first thing that people noticed about her. So she had straightened it, and almost decided that she didn’t want to leave the house at all. Straight, it was a more even, mousey color. While it hung just to the bottom of her shoulder blades curly, she could sit on it straight. First she announced that she looked like a member of some religious order than forbade hair-cutting. Then, she decided, she probably looked more like a hippy. Her clothes were different, too. She was trying to not look like a school teacher, which meant that nearly everything she owned was unacceptable. Even her casual clothes, like her “use your words” sweatshirt and her Dr. Seuss tees were too dangerous. Somehow, teaching had fused with her identity, seeped into every aspect of her life, and remained there even when she had stopped. What did other people her age wear when they ran errands? She had no idea. She threw on a pair of jeans and a blouse that she kept meaning to return to Marie, hoping for the best. She put a pair of brown colored contacts in her eyes, the shade of blue like lightening was the second thing that most people noticed, and kissed the kids goodbye. She told them and Colin, almost too many times, that she loved them. You never knew when you wouldn’t make it back from grocery shopping. PJ pushed her hair, which was probably only more bothersome because she wasn’t used to it, behind her ear and knocked on a melon. She smiled at the produce girl, recognizing her immediately. Of course, Ada wasn’t trying to hide in plain sight. “I don’t know why I do this. I guess because mum did. She doesn’t know why she does it, either, though. I don’t have any idea what I’m listening for.” |
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| Adelaide McCallen | Apr 1 2014, 06:59:08 AM Post #2 |
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Kelci; s:p | w:d
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The badge pinned crookedly to her maroon uniform shirt used to read "Adelaide." Of course, that was before she'd taken a thumbtack to it in the breakroom and scratched out the offending letters. With a lavender marker, she turned the 'e' to an 'a' and added a holographic Batman sticker for good measure. She could have used her wand to make the adjustments, but that wouldn't have made the same statement. Management hated it, and it gave her a sick pleasure to defy them in this small way; this was the sixth new nametag she'd been issued since she started there after graduating from Hogwarts. Now, when the produce manager, Martin, narrowed his eyes at her, she just stared back until he looked away, then started unpacking a tower of orange crates. Sainsbury's. Bloody hell. The only positive aspect of this job (a job she was entirely unqualified for, as simple as it was) was that it was completely mindless. While she sorted through box after box of oranges, pulling out the fruit that was rotten, or too green, or misshapen, she ran through the steps for the new burn salve she and David had been working on the night before. Her mind was almost constantly on work these days- real work, obviously, not stacking aubergines or unloading boxes of onions. She was chewing on her lip, contemplating a way to keep the salve shelf stable for a longer time, when a somewhat familiar voice broke through her inner monologue. Ada looked up and smiled politely, but without recognition. "I think it's supposed to sound hollow, but between you and me, I don't think I'd ever even touched a whole melon before I started working here... so I could be completely wrong." |
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| PJ Beckett | Apr 2 2014, 02:21:27 AM Post #3 |
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*Laney; s:c | w:d
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“I wouldn’t expect you to be a fruit expert,” PJ told her with a laugh. She assumed that most people had very little knowledge of their products. She had been a superstar of sorts at Zonko’s, but that was different. She missed talking to people. She still talked to people, some, but it was all so serious . Her life was revolution talk and baby talk with the boys. She missed casual banter with a friend at a store. Of course, Ada still hadn’t caught on that she was a friend, and PJ didn’t feel like announcing her identity. That sort of went against the rest of her efforts. She decided to be nosy, because she was curious now, and maybe Ada would catch on. “Seriously, though, you never did the shopping? Or the cooking? Did you ever go home, or did you stay there?” PJ had never given it too much thought. She just assumed that everyone went home at some point. She certainly didn’t sleep at school. Ada had been around an awful lot, though, just to be visiting. Did she actually grow up there? That was absurd, but it would explain never seeing a whole melon. |
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| Adelaide McCallen | Apr 2 2014, 02:59:51 AM Post #4 |
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Kelci; s:p | w:d
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Ada had already gone back to the oranges, but she looked up with a frown at the question. The reason she didn't have to disguise herself was because no one knew who she was; she wasn't anywhere near important enough to be recognized. But she got the sense that this woman did recognize her, which was a problem because Ada certainly didn't recognize her. She took half a step backwards, so much more apprehensive now than she ever was before the real violence started in London. Even in the moment, she knew it was completely ridiculous to be suspicious, but she didn't feel the need to justify her neuroses to herself anymore. But then, after Ada spent a beat staring at the other woman, she suddenly put the familiar voice to the obviously disguised but nevertheless recognizable face. It was a good cover, she wouldn't have even looked twice if not for PJ's strange question; the things that made her most PJ were concealed. Ada relaxed visibly once she'd out two and two together and laughed at her unbelievable stupidity. "That was home," she answered, flashing PJ a friendly smile. "We had private quarters near my dad's office." It felt strange to be talking about Hogwarts at all. It had been so long since she'd even heard from her parents that it felt like that was all a completely different life. "I'm not much of a homemaker, having been practically raised by... Uh..." She thought for a moment; she had code words worked out for most magic related topics, but how often did house elves really come up in casual public conversation? "Er, the people who run the kitchens there. What they can do, it's a whole different thing, can't be learned. Luckily, Charlie is slightly more apt in the housewife department." Of course he was still pretty rubbish, but he at least made sure she hadn't had to live off biscuits and bananas for the past several years. |
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| PJ Beckett | Apr 2 2014, 03:56:13 AM Post #5 |
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*Laney; s:c | w:d
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PJ put the melon in the basket and flinched. She knew that she had startled Ada, and she felt really, really bad about it. When she relaxed, PJ relaxed, and pushed the urge to apologize to the back of her mind. She didn’t really know how to, not for that. Heaven knew she didn’t like slinking around Sainsbury’s. On her own, she would not have been any more important or recognizable than Ada. The only reason that she had for running around in disguise was that she had fallen in love with Colin Beckett. To use his own words of warning, an unbelievable amount of shit came with that. She could have married someone else and become quite ordinary. She lacked Ada’s distaste for authority. She had kept her own name tags perfectly intact. She could think of three times in her life that she had rebelled against something, and all three had been very serious. Well, one was iffy, but two were very serious. Most of the time, she followed even simple and silly rules. She wasn’t a joker or a trouble maker or a thrill seeker. She was a revolutionary because the stars had aligned that way, because she needed to be, not because she enjoyed it. “Sure he is. That’s why you two are so slender. Me, I’m startlingly domestic. Cooking, cleaning, knitting, floral…it’s almost freaky. So, if you’re ever hungry,” she had started to tell her to stop by for dinner, only she couldn’t. She couldn’t even tell Ada where she lived. That wasn’t going to ever work. “Well, I guess I could meet you with a basket of muffins. Best I can do right now.” Baskets of baked goods seemed to keep Napoleon happy at least. She picked up an orange. |
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| Adelaide McCallen | Apr 8 2014, 11:18:17 PM Post #6 |
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Kelci; s:p | w:d
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Ada laughed. "That's just good genes!" she insisted in defense of Charlie's domestic abilities. That was true. He could be making seven course dinners and it wouldn't make any difference. They were both just built that way. She noticed the brief half-second of hesitation- she was good at noticing things. Ada wondered how PJ didn't go absolutely mad having to live in hiding. The scary thing was that she could imagine any number of situations in which she would do exactly the same thing, albeit probably for less honorable reasons. Which was maybe why she was with Charlie, a decidedly less extreme revolutionary than PJ's husband. If he hadn't given her somewhere to live after Hogwarts, if he weren't around to temper her recklessness- well, things could have turned out very differently for her. She didn't know PJ all that well, but she did know Colin. And if she had to guess, she'd bet that their relationship had some familiar notes. Ada looked down for a beat and drummed her fingers on the edge of the cardboard display, but when she looked up again she was smiling. She tucked a loose strand of hair back behind her ear and nodded. "I've had one or two of those muffins, I'd have to be an idiot to turn down the offer," she joked lightly. She hesitated herself, not quite sure where the line was, but definitely not wanting to cross it, then asked, "How're you though? I mean, aside from probably being starved for mundane gossip- which I'm always happy to trade for baked goods, by the way." Edited by Adelaide McCallen, Apr 8 2014, 11:19:47 PM.
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| PJ Beckett | Apr 11 2014, 01:44:08 AM Post #7 |
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*Laney; s:c | w:d
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There were various forms of “How’re you?” PJ had gotten pretty good at distinguishing them. Some pretty terrible things had happened to her, but it still irritated her when people asked that and looked at her like they expected her to shatter if they tapped her shoulder. Somewhere along the line somebody had equated masculinity with strength. Femininity flooded out of PJ and into everything she did. The fact that she could knit baby blankets and entertain a room full of children and fight off assailants and survive kidnapping still in her right mind confused some people. She didn’t have to pretend to be someone else to be strong. She already was. Ada was not one of those people. Ada was being genuinely nice. PJ actually had very few lines, fewer for nice people, and when someone crossed one she told them rather matter-of-factly. She was too strong to break that easily, and any other response was breaking. Even anger was a form of breaking. If she didn’t want to answer, she simply didn’t. She wasn’t shy about it. “That pretty well sums it up. The kids are great and we’re, well, to be honest I think that we’re as good as we possibly can be without being wretched, emotionless, calculated human beings. I’m okay with that. I’d rather be dead than numb,” she offered with a shrug. PJ cared about people whether she knew them or not. As terrible as she felt sometimes, as exhausted as she became, she was sort of afraid of the day when it would quit hurting. If she quit caring, she would cease to exist. That was part of who she was. “And now that I’ve blurted my innermost thoughts out in the dutifully attended produce section,” PJ joked, “Are you guys alright?” She definitely needed more practice with casual conversations. |
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2:47 PM Jul 11