fandomhigh | Library; Wednesday [ 11/28 ]

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Library; Wednesday [ 11/28 ]

Adah was slowly coming into remembering more things, although, really, she remembered them by movement, so it wasn't so much as remembering as it was trusting herself to allow her body to move and then to remember from how it moved. Today, it moved to the library and it moved to, before opening it, taking the book waiting and putting them back on the shelves. Of course, she didn't know what the book were, for the most part, and it was just rehashing familiar movements as she slowly developed sense out of them, so the books weren't put in the right spots, but Adah wasn't concerned. Her concern was more for the fact that she had books, she knew what they were for, but, still, couldn't make sense of the words.

Well. If she was remembering right, she would be stuck here all day, so what better time than now to try and figure it all out?

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She felt how tired everything made Adah, of course. River met Adah's eyes, and slowly took a seat on the desk, stretching out her legs. If she could do that - wash away the excess, the distractions - she would be content. Perhaps the sugar the apple contained would be useful. She held up the fruit, her other hand holding the knive.

Adah's gaze shifted, slowly, dully, still blinking away words, from River to the apple to the knife, lingering on the knife with a tilted head as she worked through relating its shape to its use. Serrated edge, a balance to be worked from one end, like a lever, to pierce through a skin, be it the flesh of an apple (easier) or a flesh of a human (would take work). She dragged her eyes toward River, expectantly, because she knew her motor functions still wouldn't be good enough to handle a knife well. Then again, they never were.

River could handle a knife, however. Slowly she began to peel the apple, creating the usual long spiralling strip of peel. She cut the strip in two, then sliced the apple in halves, placing two half things in front of Adah.

Then quietly she pulled a few sheets of paper out of her bag and placed them upside down on the desk. They were drawings, but they were not meant for now, but for when Adah had the time an energy for them, if she wanted. The first one was similar to the one she had drawn this weekend: A long meandering river. The second bore a strong resemblance to the one she had drawn a while ago, of Adah in a yellow dress, this time without words. The third was another one of an apple cut in half - perhaps she was repeating herself? - and the fourth one of a vole skeleton with a collection of acorns. The fifth showed a black stuffed thing with blue eyes: The black plague. River had been reluctant to include that one, considering recent events. She had also had her doubts about the sixth one: It showed a wiggling eel. It was only fair enough, River thought, although she wasn't sure it was a good thing that the wiggling eel had a shape similar to the meandering river.

Adah's attention completely disregarded River's quiet movements and the drawings; she had been watching, carefully, because learning came with watching, on the movement of River's hands as she held the knife, peeled the apple, of the growing spiral of inconsistent red flesh that sprung from the workings of the blade. Her wide eyes fixated on it; now there was an image that seemed to stick. More so than just the apple. An apple did nothing for her, but the curl of the peel, the ability to follow it as it twisted, climbing up, up, until it disappeared in down another path, a long throat withing a long neck. The thought made her lift her own chin slightly, elongating her own neck as her eyes moved. River moved. To her bag, and as she extracted things from it, Adah followed an assumed path of the spiraled skin down her throat and her breath, quietly, caught a bit. The excitement came from more than just finally getting an image that stuck, that seemed to finally reveal some of what the breakdown had erased.

River felt Adah's eyes, saw what she saw, and smiled. She had perhaps put too much effort into more permanent images, when in fact the image of the present was the most powerful tool. Shifting slowly, she pushed herself down on her back on the desk and raised a hand holding her half of the apple peel. She opened her mouth, stretched out her tongue a little, and let the peel spiral down her throat.

Edited 2007-11-28 19:17 (UTC)

Adah looked down at the other girl on the desk with everything quirked: eyebrow, head, the corner of her mouth on the left side. Confirmation of an image, a thought, an association in flesh and blood and intents that couldn't be further from their last encounter. There was confidence in this, where there had been none the other day. Adah watched the apple peel disappear with another little spike cutting deep inside of her and then, questions of potential memories or overactive imagination pulling her, she looked toward River's eyes. She might not be able to read words (or minds, she felt the need to remind herself for some reason), but she could read expressions.

Her eyes met Adah's and there was laughter in them. Not overactive imagination, certainly not, but even if it was that wasn't the kind of fantasies River would object to. She reached for her half of the apple and for the knife, and cut a thin slice. Holding it up over her open mouth like before, River stuck her tongue out and let it explore the shape before devouring it.

Couldn't read words, but she could read that, and the pieces of familiarity started to find where they fit, in terms that weren't at all appropriate for their placement, River sprawled with her back on the desk like that, thoughts of exactly how familiar Adah was with River.

Lots off pieces. Too many. Her brain lurched at the opportunity for progress, especially toward something good, filled in the holes too fast, and Adah had to draw back, close her eyes to hope that the swell passed. She imagined that the images revealed by these pieces put into place really wasn't helping, either. Warning lights flashing in her head. Too much again; everything was too much! It made her want to throw a book across the room in frustration.

Too much and too fast again. River's smile faded and she curled up on her side, quietly watching Adah, almost holding her breath, and waiting for the moment of overload to pass. She hoped she wouldn't have to leave this time, because even if no progress was made, being with Adah felt good.

Edited 2007-11-28 20:10 (UTC)

Although Adah's eyes remained closed, they lightened a little, not closed as much as she heard movement on River's behalf, tried to match what it sounded like to her mind, and let out a low breath, focusing on the rustling of clothes, the folding of limbs. Focus on one thing to force the rest out, a hectic high school kegger and those weren't warning lights, they were the pigs coming break it up. Focus on one thing, and her breath, threatening to derail, calmed. And she allowed a small smile. River was always moving...she coudl remember that, too, but, mostly, she just thought of how utterly appropriate it all was. It made things easier for her, if she didn't get too much, to have things connect like that, for a girl that never stopped moving to be named after a body of water that also never stopped.

It was...good progress. Hopefully a frame for the rest of Adah's day, but she worried, remembering the other day, that it wouldn't be enough again, and that movement was the same sort of movement from the other day. Disappointment...

Adah shouldn't be disappointed, River thought, but she had no way of expressing that without making things worse, so she lay still on the desk, not moving apart from curling her toes and letting her gaze wander along Adah's arms, up her neck and follow the curve of her chin. She didn't think Adah would mind.

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