Topic: A Helping Hand

Lydia Loran

Date: 2007-12-07 04:33 EST
December 6th, Mid-Afternoon


Lydia had told herself she wasn't going out today, but sewing and sewing and sewing wasn't really taking her mind of things like she had planned, or wanted. She had told herself she wanted to see Glenn anyways, so what better time than.. now? He had stopped by to check on her when she was down, and she hadn't a chance to extend her appreciation for it. Not getting an answer when she knocked on his door at the inn, she opted to check out his farm to see if he was there. Arms were crossed tightly as she walked down the road she knew lead to it, her gaze wandering the flat land and forest off in the horizon. It wasn't an area entirely new to her, as she had been by before, to drop off the baby chicks she found at the inn so long ago to a farmer. The memory brought a faint smile to her face, though a shiver caused it to face. Skin was a touch red, looking like she had been out in the cold for entirely too long, when really she hadn't. She was just particularly sensitive to it. Pace picked up as she studied farms and barns more intently. She had heard his was the smallest there, and that's what she was looking for.

Glenn's barn sat a little off the main road,where a smaller, narrower road lead up to it. The barn was a red shade, although it was still a bit faded in spots. To the left of the barn was what remained of an old farm house: some blackened timber, and a concrete foundation. There was an outhouse partially visible behind the debris, and a small shed as well. Abandoned farm equipment sat out in the yard: an old tractor with flat wheels, a combine that had clearly seen better days, and some rolled up, rusted barbed wire fencing that hadn't been put out yet. Simple wire fencing surrounding Glenn's modest establishment, and the fields that lay just a little ways behind the building were fallow and full of snow. Puffs of smoke, coming from what looked like the side of the barn, let Lydia know that, more likely than not, somebody was currently home.

The small red barn had caught her eye, being small only in comparison to the others. Could that have been it? Perhaps she should have searched a bit longer, but the worst that could happen was a little embarrassment if it was indeed, the wrong place. Her walk down the small road was slow, casual so she could take in the surroundings. It was so.. peaceful. Part of her was envious for it. Truthfully, she wasn't all that fond of living in the city, specifically in the rougher parts of it. She enjoyed nature, the wide open space, the feeling of freedom simply from taking a look around. Gods, she couldn't help but imagine the place in spring and summer, when flowers would bloom, the grass would turn green, and trees would grow lush and green once more. Pale blues closed momentarily as she pictured it all in her head. Sighing beneath her breath, eyes opened quickly as she approached the barn.

Glenn didn't use power tools (and truth be told, there wasn't really any electricity out here, nor running water), so although the sound of him sanding could be faintly heard through the closed door to the barn, his singing was more audible than that.

"In the city you must make yourself light.
In the city you don't have to decide.
Sometimes check yourself make sure you're alive.*"

Brows lifted as she heard Glenn singing. Steps were made more quiet as she approached the barn, taking her lower lip between teeth as she pressed a pointed ear to the door to hear better. After a moment she chuckled to herself and stepped back- she almost hated to disturb him. Hand lifted, she knocked tentatively upon the door.

Voice was muffled behind the wood. "Who is it?"

She raised her voice to try and carry it through the closed door. "Someone short and scary with green hair?"

There was a bemused, if somewhat muddied, tone to Glenn's response. "Are you a pirate or something?"

"I prefer the term 'corsair', thank you very much!" She did her best to sound indignant, but amusement leaked through her tone.

He paused for a bit, before responding again, trying to be loud and clear. "The door's actually unlocked. I don't usually get too many visitors out here." Well, he'd only been out here since the 20th, so he hadn't had much opportunity for them.

Habitual nod given, she turned the door's knob and pushed it in, slow steps carrying her inside the barn. Her attire was plain; a simple jacket over blouse and long skirt consisting of grays and dark greens. Lydia herself was looking, well, just a little worn. Celadon locks were worn down and around her face, hiding just the very faint remnants of scratches on her face, though even if her hair was up it'd unlikely be seen unless someone was very close to her. Loose clothing did well in hiding the fact she had lost a little weight, though it might have been visible on her face- the circles under her eyes certainly were, indicating that she wasn't sleeping like she should be, if at all really. Her gaze drifted, idly examining the place, but her eyes were quick to fall on Glenn. A smile was soon offered.

The inside was...spacious. The roof on the first floor was a lot higher than one might expect, and in some places? It went straight up to the top of the barn with no second floor above it. Temporary supports and joists had been set up in various places around the barn, but in Lydia's immediate vicinity, the large "room" there was mostly empty, save for some small projects that were apparently finished, and a half-finished table missing two of its legs. Straight ahead of that room was the workshop, where Glenn was standing over a workbench, sanding something. Various tools, ranging from hammers to saws to rulers to clamps, hung from various places along the walls. There were a couple of windows, slightly larger than the ones near the entrance of the barn, behind the workbench and to its left. The floor was covered in a thin layer of sawdust and wood shavings, and smelled faintly of cedar. To Lydia's left, were a couple of mostly unfinished rooms. On the far left wall was a cast iron wood burning stove, lending its heat and a slightly smoky smell to the interior. Near that was a dilapidated old bed and mattress. Farther in the back, towards the corner, was a rickety looking dining room table and chairs. To the right of that was an icebox. The "rooms" were mostly unfinished, unformed, and unfurnished otherwise.

Lydia leaned backwards, back pressed against the door as she lifted a hand to gesture vaguely about. "It's really starting to look good here. It'll look wonderful when it's done I'm sure." She let her gaze wander some more, lingering here and there, appreciating the work that had been done. "It's beautiful outside too. I was just thinking how it would look in the spring and summer..." There was almost a dreamy quality to her voice at that. "You could probably start a few gardens, or even throw random seed packets from random flowers about and that'd probably look good too." She smiled, almost wryly, at the thought, before letting her gaze drift to some of Glenn's woodworking projects.

Project was set aside and he turned to face Lydia, looking somewhat sheepish. "If there's going to be gardening and farming and stuff like that, someone else is going to have to do it. I'm afraid I don't have a... 'green thumb'." Glenn lifted a hand up to his head, ruffling light brown locks, ensuring they were covering his ears. Inside, in this heat, he wasn't wearing too much: a black t-shirt, simple (and somewhat beat-up looking) canvas carpenter's pants (with hammers hanging off each loop on his hip), and those ever present work boots. Oddly enough, though, the hemp necklace with jade arrowheads didn't seem to be around his neck.

"I think flowers are more simple... water and sunlight, though there are some that require more care. Fruits or veggies though? That'd require a good deal more care and time." Straightening, she started to walk further inside, towards Glenn's workshop. She had to settle hands behind her back to keep herself from touching various projects set about. She took note of his appearance as she neared him, but didn't comment on it. "I'd just throw random seeds around and hope for the best. Let nature handle it."

"Yeah, toss them out and let Gaia take care of it." The thought brought a smile to his face, one that seemed more... open and emotional than normal. It took him a moment to realize that he hadn't put his necklace on. Was he really that comfortable here that he didn't need to? Or trusting of Lydia? Either way, he had a slightly panicked look on his face for a second before he suddenly rethought his paranoia, and relaxed a little bit. Although one of his hands did reach for where the necklace normally was...

Lips pursed faintly at his gesture before she glanced away towards one of the windows. Brows furrowed at the sight of a light flurry starting up outside. It had been clear until then... "I heard you came to check on me." She glanced back to him, beginnings of a smile on her face. "I appreciate it."

He waved his hand at the air, nearly knocking down his project. He quickly moved to grab it: a music box, in the very early stages of production (one of the sides was still missing, and the wood was unfinished). "Oops! Uh, not a problem, Lydia. I wouldn't be a very good friend if I didn't stop by." He looked at her, something softening in forest green eyes. "How are you doing now?"


(*Song lyrics copyright Matt Pond PA)

Lydia Loran

Date: 2007-12-07 04:51 EST
She eyed the music box briefly before looking back to him, pale blue meeting green. "Oh.. I'm alright." Because losing weight and sleep certainly equated to 'alright'. Lydia shrugged lightly before letting her gaze trail down some. "Others are a lot worse off than me. I'm lucky." There was something.. strangely stoic about her tone.

He set the music box farther back along the workbench. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he blinked. "Uh... alright. Did you want me to get you a chair or something? They're not great, but it's better than standing."

She shook her head as if clearing some thoughts away. "Sure, I'd appreciate that." Mustering up a smile, she shrugged out of her jacket and draped it over her arms, holding it close. It was pretty warm in there, much better than the chill outside.

"Uh, I'm sorry there's not all that much decoration up in here yet. Did you want to sit in here?" Glenn said, gesturing to the workroom, "Or over there?" He pointed at the mostly empty room near the front door, where some of the projects were. "Or we could sit closer to the stove."

Lydia shook her head sharply. "Don't be sorry. I think it looks great." A reassuring smile was offered before she glanced around towards where he gestured and pointed to. "...the stove would be nice? It's a bit chilly out and sort of a long walk."

He gave a wave of his hand in the direction of the stove, which happened to be close to where the dining room table and chairs are. "Follow me."

Turning, she did as was told, following a few feet behind Glenn. Arriving near the stove, she drifted towards the table and chairs. One arm still clutched her jacket close, as the other lowered, hand lightly gripping the back of one of the chairs to pull it out, just a little. She wasn't the most socially adept individual so rather than wait for him to sit down or indicate where they should sit down, she settled the chair to face the stove and took a seat.

He pulled the other chair out and paused. Where to put his chair. He settled on seating facing her, but at a forty-five degree angle, so that he was somewhat between the stove and Lydia. And once he had sat? Well, he couldn't think of anything to say for a while until... "Are you hungry or thirsty or anything?"

Her gaze had settled on the embers within the stove, a faraway look to them. When Glenn spoke up they snapped his way suddenly, and a faint smile was offered. "No thanks, I'm fine." She draped her jacket over her lap, letting pale blues shift back to the stove. Chewing on her lower lip then, she looked almost.. thoughtful.

"Alright." He fidgeted in place a bit. What to say? What to do? Index finger started tapping at his forehead, before he finally spoke. "You, uh, don't have to loan me that money you were going to. I know you're going to need it for the shop." And he instantly cringed. "Oh, gods, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. There's more important stuff to think about than that." And he muttered a curse, in elvish, under his breath.

Even she couldn't help but allow her expression to fall a little at that. After a moment she shook her head, glancing over to Glenn. "It's alright..." The words came quietly, before resuming their normal tone. "The shop.. it's actually looking a lot better. Next week I'm having someone come in to paint some flowers around in the old flower shop.. try to brighten the place up." She paused, glancing back to the stove. "And I told you I'd loan you the money. I still plan on that. I have a bit in my savings. Most of the shop's repair money is coming from the profits themselves." The stoic tone returned, her expression particularly.. neutral.

He slouched in his chair, and stared at the cast iron stove instead of her. His next words were vague, cryptic, noncommittal. Interpretable (hopefully) in any number of ways. "It-it's not really fair, is it?"

Lydia turned her head, slowly, to face Glenn. "...what's not fair?" There was a hint of curiosity to the otherwise neutral tone. The same tone she had heard so often growing up. The same tone Glenn would recognize.

There was something...oddly recognizable in that flat tone of voice Lydia was using. Had been using, almost the entire time she'd been discussing the Stitch. Glenn tugged at the collar of his t-shirt briefly. Was he going to be the emotional one? "...Everything about that. What happened." Glenn suddenly straightened up, and got that...slightly far off look in his eye, as if he was pulling something deep from memory. Then, he recited the words. "'As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods, they kill us for their sport.'"

She considered his words for a few long moments before staring back into the stove's embers, unblinking. "I don't think the gods had anything to do with what happened..." It was quiet, a whisper. "And I... I don't care about The Stitch. I mean.. I do, but.. things are so easily replaceable, it's the people that-" Her voice cracked, cutting her speech off. Mouth was still open, as if she was searching, struggling for the words.

He glanced sideways at her, a somewhat sheepish look on his face. A look that was quickly replaced by one of pure sorrow, dark green hues almost fading all the way to black. "It...hurts to think of that. I've seen the memorial a couple of times. And each time, I have to blink back tears." His eyes seemed to be brimming with those same tears at that moment. "I hate how some people just don't pay attention to it. It was..." And his voice lowered, barely audible. "Kind of like back home."

Lydia breathed in, somewhat sharply, before exhaling slowly. She still wouldn't look away from the stove. "I couldn't go near the memorial for a while.. I just.. I.. I couldn't. I'd avoid it, walk the long way around it, or just.." She trailed off, finally looking away from the stove, to the ground, and then her hands in her lap. "I went the other day." She said it so very quietly. "To see.. to see if..."

His eyes seemed to follow hers toward the stove, before returning to gaze at her profile. Glenn's voice was a whisper, one that was almost drowned out by the crackle of the fire inside the stove. "See if...what?"

"I'm.. I'm not sure. Maybe a familiar... face or name..." She paused then, a flicker of a frown on her lips for a moment. "Mrs. MacDoogal came to The Stitch a lot. She's-" No. Not is. Not anymore. "-was... really happy. Always buying things.. gossiping.. always talking to me about her husband. They just.. they celebrated their thirty second anniversary recently. That's a long time isn't it?" She swallowed hard, tears forming in her eyes glistening. "I was pretty fond of her, always looked forward to her visits.. it's strange to think that she's not going to be there when we open back up." The tears fell then, betraying the otherwise stoic nature of her face. "Gods.. I haven't even told Erin yet.. or Ivy or Carley or..." Trailing off, she shook her head. "I guess it's easier to not think about these things, to not talk about them.. makes them less real somehow.. but it hits you and..." Her eyes shut, vivid memories coming back to her. Memories she didn't want. "It was really terrible Glenn..." She looked as if she could cry harder, sob, weep.. anything. But she was too tired for it. Too exhausted even now. "...there was this kid in all the rubble.. I couldn't do anything. I begged them to hold on... they were so scared... I could see it in his eyes. I begged... the healers were on their way but.. he just couldn't hold on.." She shivered from a chill not brought on by the cold.

Glenn sat there, listening, and the longer he listened, the more he could feel something loosening inside of him. A couple of those tears started to trace their way down his high, elven cheekbones, leaving wet trails on his face. And at the end of her story? His legs felt numb, but somehow, pressing his palms on the table to push up and support his weight, he managed to stand. His eyes wet and shining with sadness, he held his arms out to her, wordlessly asking her for a hug.

Hearing Glenn's movements, Lydia opened her eyes and glanced aside. Seeing his gesture, she was surprisingly quick to move to her feet, uncaring of the jacket that fell to the ground in the process. A couple steps closed the distance between them before she wrapped arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder as she exhaled a sharp sigh. Tears kept flowing, but she couldn't weep.

Lydia had been a rock for him earlier, when he had confessed what his true nature was. And he had wept into her shoulder then. This...felt like a perfect way to pay her back for her strength. To lend her some of his own, what little he had, when she was so clearly run-down, exhausted, beaten up by life. So Glenn let her wrap her arms around him, let her bury her face in his shoulder, let the tears wet his t-shirt. And he was crying as well, not the wracking sobs during his confession, or the panicked weeping when he thought Carley was dead, but just plain, simple crying. The tears slowly trickling out of his eyes, making everything in the room - the chairs, the table, the stove, Lydia - blurry, smeared, out of focus.

Lydia Loran

Date: 2007-12-07 05:01 EST
She held onto him for a few minutes, a bit tight, never saying a word, shivering every now and then. She had certainly done a good job of soaking his shirt too. Slowly, hesitantly, she started to pull away from Glenn, quickly lifting her hands up to wipe away the tears that stained her cheeks. Her eyes hurt, they felt so dry. Lydia hadn't really allowed herself to cry this much since the explosion, hadn't allowed herself to feel it this much, and hadn't even gone into this much detail about it with anyone. Her breathing was slow, controlled as she worked to compose herself, expression almost sheepish as she watched the ground between them.

He blinked, furiously, trying to clear his eyes of the last remnants of tears, trying to steady his vision. When he could see straight, and when Lydia pulled away from him, his gaze turned to the ground as well. Words were hesitant, as if he wasn't sure he believed him, or if he should even be saying them. Glenn? Trying to provide moral support? He started to shake his head, but quickly stopped, before speaking. "It's-it's going to be alright. We're all here for you. And if you ever need anything, no matter what time it is, day or night, feel free to stop by. Wake me up. It'll be alright."

Pale blues lifted towards green at Glenn's words, and for a moment? It looked as if she could cry, instead however.. she smiled. Warmly. "Thank you Glenn... I appreciate that." She waved her hand vaguely. "I feel like I should be strong in all of this but.. I'm just.. I'm not. I'm not a strong person." Shoulders rose and fell in a defeated gesture.

He nodded, and spoke slowly, deliberately, in response to her words. "You know me. You've seen me at my...worst. I'm not that strong either. I depend on you and Erin and Carley and everyone else to keep me up. Keep me from falling. I think maybe we all have to lean on each other, help each other up when we fall. That's what makes us h-" He paused, to regain his composure and use a more appropriate word. "That's what makes us people."

"Yeah..." She gave a nod, almost hesitant. "I think you're right. I don't think I've ever stood on my own. Not really... I guess some people would say that's weakness, but I think.. it's a lot harder to let others in, learn to depend on them, trust them..." Realizing she was rambling a little, she sighed and shook her head, then knelt down to collect her jacket from the floor when she finally spotted it. Standing back up, she brushed at it idly. "..thanks."

He waved a hand at the air. "Not a problem. I think I've been learning the same thing the last couple of months. I just-I just hope things start to get better for you."

"They have already, I think." She pondered a moment before giving an affirmative nod. "And they should tomorrow especially, you're coming to Erin's yeah?" Smiling, she wore a rather hopeful expression.

He laughed, running his fingers through the top of his light brown locks, a slightly embarrassed look on his face. "Yeah. I'm not too familiar with, uh, Christ-mas, but Carley said it's pretty close to what we celebrate back in Blackbridge- the winter solstice, I mean. But I'll be there tomorrow to help with whatever needs to be done."

"Don't worry." She grinned up at him, though not too far up since Glenn wasn't all that taller than herself. "This is only my second Christmas- we didn't have holidays in Veian. It's not a bad holiday at all, and I think you'll really love the decorations." Lydia slipped on her jacket, a subtle cue it was nearly time for her to depart. "And there's presents, but.. I can never think of what to get people." Another hopeful look, her brows lift. "Think you can tell me what to get you ahead of time?"

He started tapping his forehead, thinking about what it was that he wanted. Then, he grinned back at her, as he pushed the chairs in and took that subtle cue she gave him and started slowly heading for the door. "Only if you tell me what you'd like first."

She actually didn't have to think too long on that, and gave a sheepish grin as she followed along beside him, steps slow as well. "How hard is it to make a music box?"

Face resumed that blank expression. "Depends on how nice you want it to be." Then, he grinned, and actually answered the question. "Not too long. On top of the other stuff I've been doing, about a week or so. And I'm already working on another music box now...What song would you like?"

Lydia snorted at the first response, but pondered momentarily. "If it's trouble, I don't want to worry you with it, but if not... I'd love one. And as far as the song goes... surprise me?" She wasn't well acquainted with music, honestly.

"Fair enough," Glenn said, as they stopped by the front door of the barn. "I'll see what I can dig up." He pointed to a box, sitting along in a corner. "Gods know I have enough parts to last me a while." A pause, and he seemed slightly surprised at the words that came out of his mouth, although he smile softly anyway. "The door's always open, if you need anything."

Pale blues shifted aside towards the box, then back to Glenn. "...I appreciate that." A pause, and her look was somewhat thoughtful. "You know the same goes vice versa, yeah? If you ever need me, I'm there for you." The look she gave him then was almost evaluative, before she smiled, warmly and genuinely, looking less worn down than she had been as of late. "Carley's really lucky." Lydia knew, yes- and she couldn't help the remark. She reached out to tug the door open then.

Lips curled up slightly into another grin, at her offer. "Thanks." Although, when Lydia scrutinized him, and told him that about Carley? His jaw seemed to drop a little bit. Glenn's mouth hung open, like he was about to say something, but instead of speaking, he just blushed. A lot. And almost looked like he wanted to cover his face with the palm of his hand. Instead, he just sort of leaned against the wall next to the doorway as Lydia exited, trying to look nonchalant. "Be careful going back, Lydia."


(Edited and adapted from live play)