In the Shadow of the Mountain

[Cammeh]

Lydia stretched out on the floor, half-curled as if asleep. She remembered that voice, that kind of song. It always made her nervous at first, because it calmed her down like the sedatives did, but it didn't paralyze her. It simply allowed her to rest.

By the time the song was over, she was breathing evenly again, and stayed on the floor where she was, now relaxing. She watched Rich with interest.

"I remember you. You were there. You always used to sing... it always made me nervous..." she said simply, her thoughts neither here nor there.

Closing her eyes and sighing again, Lydia forced herself up to a sitting position. "So it wasn't just a dream. It was all real..." She paused to let that sink in, the memories coming back much slower now, more comfortably instead of in a paralyzing rush. It still seemed like a dream, like she hadn't really been there, but had at the same time. "Why didn't I remember any of it before? I mean, not really. Just in weird dreams that always scared me..."

She looked around, taking in all the faces. They seemed vaguely familiar now, like Rich's. They were older than what she thought they should be, but still familiar.

Running her hands through her hair, she got up on her knees, then to her feet. She looked at the cup in Annabel's hand and decided she'd like some tea. She still felt a bit out of it.

 

[Iliana]

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A few quick draws of her breath later and Hajori was starting to feel better. The heat was still there and very imminent, and it seemed as if no one had cared about her shriek...but that only helped her calm down. She was used to the treatment in her years, not caring one way or another if those cared about her state. They would not have understood the heat, regardless. Hajori herself couldn't fully understand what was going on with her as well, but it could not be helped by any other source. The heat had been her shadow for so many long and strenuous years. Random days in her shop with the AC blasting against the strings of her red hair, in the middle of winter during a snowy walk on the sidewalk, even in a public pool or her bath tub. It was not a new feat for her in the slightest, the only irritation being she just...didn't understand why.

Finally able to calm herself, Hajori turned away from the group and over to a blank wall. The wall had made things easier for her, giving her the ability to relax more, hunch her shoulders down a notch, and exhale evenly. The fire inside and/or around her subsided in minuscule waves as she soon felt the breeze that was previously ventilating the room. The others had also seemed to calm down as well, their sighs and exhales traveling to her ears. It was almost like they were all a bundle of monks, saying silent prayers to ears that would never receive it.

Knock Knock.

That snapped her out of her reverie, turning to watch Ander tend to the door. Someone else joining couldn't possibly be of any more help than the others were. Why did it matter who they had at their disposal. they were all just a bunch of teens and young adults. What could they do to help anything? What could they do to avoid the same fate that Harry did? Surely the person at the door would yield as good an answer as the others around her had: absolutely nothing. Jori made sure to keep her back turned away from any more guests. She did better on the roof of her shop than she did with these people. Of all the situations to get into...​

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