I'll miss this game. Thank you for everything!
Search Posts
Is the curse that every damn person in this city disappeared? The custodians will work just fine, if it's not like that. Maggie hurries towards school, stopping to hello to the first custodian on the way and gauging their response.
Better. I can try on somebody else who won't freak out as much. Maggie pours herself a small bowl of milk and cereals, her stomach somewhat closed by anxiety.
On her way to the school, she stops by the paper kiosk. "Can I have the Post, please?"
That doesn't really make sense. My eyes can see myself, as well as my clothes, but those same eyes can't see me in a mirror? Ok, I have to check whether Mom and Dad can see me, without startling them as a voice out of nowhere if I really am invisible... Maggie walks downstairs as silently as possible, holding her shoes in her hands, until she's sure to be in her mother's vision field. Then she waves at her.
Oh God, not again, freaking... magic! What did I do? Maggie freaks out, but does so silently. Alright, invisibility. If it's another curse, I have to go break it. Won't be hard to sneak out, but- how will it work with clothes?
Maggie creeps home silently and unnoticed. First thing in the morning, she'll have to shower properly and get all of the salt off, but at this time she'd just wake her parents up.
"Going home too, but I'm down for it tomorrow."
Maggie finishes drying herself and starts putting on her clothes. "I think I'll swing by my home, and dry my hair off at least. I suppose I should be thankful that your spell just made me nauseous."
I just felt like it and went off, glad you liked it!
"Oh it worked, it freaking worked."
"Oh God, I really hope that it worked." says Maggie, wrapping herself in the blanket before taking a large, hungry bite out of the granola bar.
"As much as I would like to say my piece / please hurry the **** up, it's freezing cold! / We can debate when I can eat again / and I'm not shivering in this ********* breeze!" says loudly Maggie, her teeth rattling.
"Fatou, your help's appreciated much / and we'll agree there's some strange stuff out there. / This is unpleasant, though, to say the least / I'd be SO glad if we could make it quick." says Maggie, salt in her mouth and burning her eyes.
"There's salt to spare in the general store / we keep it to clean up the snowy streets."
Maggie blinks. The memories of those days years ago, when they brushed off with the supernatoral returns, and with it a load of emotions. The fear she had, the powerlessness, and the relief that it was over. How she had lived happily with rock and astronomy, without worrying about witchcraft and curses.
After washing her face, Maggie returns to the table, looking dismal. "I'm sorry, David, I don't feel too well / If you desire it, you can have my food." She then heads to Holly and Fatou. "I can't keep down whatever I ingest / I'll have my mother come and pick me up / I'll do some more research if I have time / But now I need a doctor, I'm afraid. / Have a good afternoon today, my friends."
As nausea strikes again, Maggie makes a dash for the bathroom, collapsing on a seat and retching. God, if I can't even eat I'll have to go to the hospital.
Maggie bites into the chicken breast, keeping ready to sprint to the bathroom in case nausea strikes again.
Maggie heads to the cafeteria, sitting next to David Richards, after avoiding anything that may contain sugar. On her meager tray are broccoli and grilled chicken breast.
Hungry and nauseous? Lovely combination.
As her nausea starts subsiding, Maggie raises her head from the table. "A shrink would have been best for just a chat / A princess is but trouble and dismay. / The library might have that one book, Steve / I'll work on parallels with fairytales / I found this book of Russian ones to check." From her bag, Maggie produces a tome bearing the title: "Alexander Afanasyev - Russian Fairy Tales"
"There's something in your words that I don't get / But I'm quite too beat up to mind right now. / I'll have a look at the bibliography / And then we'll write some pages on Koschei. / I've found that old folk tale I told last day / I think it's worth a mention in our work."
Maggie raises her head, an inch, eyes drooping. "I've got what was discussed the other day / by Holly and me, through old and dusty tomes / the tale of one who Death never could touch / the wizard of the Rus, Koschei by name. / It is folklore, although it's but a tale / whether it will suffice, I do not know."
Right after she is mentioned, Maggie enters the classroom, definitely not all charm and smiles. Pale and sickly, she falls on her chair and slumps over the desk, moaning iambic pentameters. "O, I die, Horatio. / The potent poison quite o'ercrows my spirit. / Something, something, he has my dying voice. / So tell him, with th' occurrents, more and less, / Which have solicited. The rest is silence."
"I didn't eat anything weird, though, and my parents were alright. Maybe I caught some kind of bug yesterday evening? I went for a stroll."
"'iunno" groans Maggie. "I've got nausea and can't keep anything down, I even threw up a single candy."
Maggie goes even paler and sweaty, hurrying to the bathroom to puke acrid bile. I can't even keep sugar down? What the hell did I catch? After washing her face, she goes to Holly for a moment before darting out, holding her stomach and grimacing. "Could you please tell the teacher I'm going to the nurse? I'm royally beat up. Thanks, sweetie."
Pale and sore in her throat, Maggie slumps over her desk. "God, I feel bad. I must have caught some bug yesterday. You feeling alright, Hols?"
I'm ok with cutting. What a horrible night to have a curse.
Checking in, I'm ok with being on hold.
"Well then" says Maggie, shouldering her guitar and all of her chord sheets with one last, disarming smile "I believe you're going my way?"
"Oh, tell me about people being strange. Lemme see, E minor, A minor, B... I can do it, but you'll have to sing. My Morrison voice isn't quite on point yet."
"Donchaworry, Mum and Dad are quite chill. If you don't ask them about their diet, that is. Do you have a song you'd like me to play?"
"Uhm, a bit weird, to be honest. Rather... discreet people, would you say?"
Hot stranger and neighbor all in one? Maggie lights up brighter than a Christmas tree. "Oh, are you Mr. Dixson's son?" Dixsonson?
Sure it's fun!
C slides into F and F slides into G as Maggie foregoes the outro with a burning glance at Holly. Taking the guitar off and handing it to George for a moment, she also undoes her ponytail, freeing up auburn hair to frame her face. "Oh, by the way I'm Maggie, and your singing voice is outstanding. Are you new to the town?"
Maggie slides into the instrumental part, reaching out to the approaching Holly and whispering a "Dibs!" between her teeth.
"Don't blame me, blame easy chord progression" quips Maggie with a wink, opening the guitar case and fishing out a binder. "Van Halen, Van Halen... I can do Jump!" In a few seconds, she sits cross-legged and starts strumming.
"Thank you!"
Maggie smiles her brightest at George. "There's friends, I've got a guitar, and I've had a weird day. Just needed to unwind. How about you?"
Maggie turns around to face Harold, her voice cold. "If it isn't Harold Porter, the guy who can make a graveyard look pleasant in comparison. No, I was here to pray on the grave of your intelligence, tragically stillborn. Too bad the body didn't follow."
|