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Post by Genevieve Linton on Jun 24, 2011 8:19:30 GMT
December's first snowfall had left the Asylum and its environs blanketed in a frosty shroud of purest white, lending an incongruous but certainly not unwelcome air of purity to so dark and deranged a place. The fleeting gold glow of the winter sunrise illuminated the sylphlike figure of Genevieve Linton, wandering, completely oblivious to the cold, amidst the garden's leafless shrubs and trees, intermittently ceasing her traipsing to admire the occasional snowflake as it twirled its way to the frozen earth.
Seen through the cracked prism of a mind that sat behind her dreamy azure eyes, each of these crystalline conglomerates was a fairy dancer, descended from celestial climes unknown to fulfill their raison d'etre of performing for the amusement of Mother Earth - a purpose they were determined to accomplish despite its promise of inevitable doom... an honor worth dying for. "Who hammered, wrought you, from argentine vapor?" she wondered aloud, plucking one out of mid-air with her delicate, tapering fingers.
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Post by Wynter Willow on Jun 24, 2011 8:33:57 GMT
Wynter knew she shouldn't be out in the middle of winter in her state but the wind called to her from inside her masters chambers, so she snuck out as Willow and him were occupied in other "matters." It was very visible that she was pregnant in this shift for she could not find any bigger ones.
She stepped softly in the snow in her stocking feet, her hands held to her stomach as she looked around at the pure white world and laughed to herself at the absurd irony of her being so unpure in this very world. Here she was pregnant and not even attracted to men. A whore they call her in the cell blocks but at least she was alive and not being leeched everyday like them. She sat on a small crumbling snow-covered bench, watching the snow drift down from the sky around her. This season was her namesake after all, so it was her favorite.
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Post by Genevieve Linton on Jun 24, 2011 9:09:15 GMT
Genny's brow furrowed. Were her eyes being deceitful, or had the featureless white of her surroundings been shot with a flash of red? Phantom recollections flitted through her psyche, memories of scarlet petals and viridian leaves heavy with a scent so sweet, it seemed like a gift from the gods... an ambrosial aroma so dichotomous in its twin roles of messenger of love and harbinger of mourning.
Roses were Genny's favorite blooms, precious gifts that her father never failed to brighten their home with whenever he had the opportunity. Wreaths of them had adorned his casket before the grim-faced pallbearers released him into the soil's embrace, and thereafter, the exquisite inflorescences no longer made their presence felt - the only roses Genny had seen since her father's passing grew in the untamed, Edenesque gardens of her dreams.
For a moment, Genny stood stock still, her cheeks wet with tears. Then she was on the move once again, an almost frantic element to her steps, desperately searching for dubiously-existent roses amidst the bleak winter landscape. Hurrying through the bushes and around a corner, she stopped short as she came face to face with a flower that was certainly not what she desired to find. The reds and greens that filled her vision belonged not to her elusive prize, but to the copper tresses and emerald eyes of the young woman she recognized as Doctor Bramsfield's companion.
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Post by Wynter Willow on Jun 24, 2011 9:22:03 GMT
Wynter heard the running foot steps of the girl before she spotted her. What was an inmate who attacked her master out in the gardens for? As far as she was concerned this inmate was dangerous and should be kept locked up in a cage like the beast she is.
"You look surprised dear girl," she spoke with a small amount of venom in her voice hoping it would fend off any notion this girl had of attacking her. Wynter was not in the condition to fend her off at the moment. "Off with you before I call your chaser," she stared at the girl intently, her green eyes to the girl blue, wondering what the girl would do next. She was helpless and at the inmate mercy if the girl so choosed her to be. She clutched at her swollen stomach wearily hoping to cover up any evidence that she may be pregnant from the girls eyes.
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Post by Genevieve Linton on Jun 24, 2011 23:45:22 GMT
Somewhere amongst the labyrinthine corridors of Genny's mind, the shadow stirred... before lapsing back into dormancy. Though Bramsfield's bedfellow, this young woman had been no direct threat to date, especially not now. Her need to sustain what was growing within her almost certainly guaranteed it. Nothing escaped the attention of Genny's dark defender, in tune with the pulse of the world through her eyes and ears.
"Life thriving amidst the cold... a rose budding in winter," said Genny softly, lips curving into a small smile. Her gaze took on a rarely-seen warmth as it washed over Wynter's form, glowing with the beauty of motherhood. "I was looking for flowers, but found a miracle instead."
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Post by Wynter Willow on Jun 25, 2011 1:03:15 GMT
"A...miracle?" Wynter asked still trying to hide her pregnant stomach. The girl seemed warmer towards her but she wasn't about to go running into her arms just yet. "What are you doing out here?" She slid to the furtherest end of the bench away from the girl just in case.
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Post by Genevieve Linton on Jun 25, 2011 1:33:12 GMT
"A miracle, yes," replied Genny. "It's amazing and wonderful, the gift of life - a gift that should be cherished from beginning to end." She moved to occupy the other end of the bench and stared off into the distance, a faraway look on her face. Her ghost of a smile faded and a note of wistfulness crept into her voice as she spoke on. "As for why I'm here... I thought I might try seeking peace out in the world rather than within myself, for a change."
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Post by Wynter Willow on Jun 25, 2011 2:25:56 GMT
"That's a hard thing to find here. This is the first peace I've gotten since I got here." Wynter said this with her bright green eyes turned up to the sky. "And I had to sneak out to get this peace," she said with a small giggle, though it wasn't funny. "I'll get out of here one day."
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Post by Genevieve Linton on Jun 25, 2011 3:14:18 GMT
"Sometimes, the effort it takes to find peace makes that solace all the sweeter," said Genny, her eyes upturned as well. The long months of confinement behind the Asylum's slate-gray walls had left her almost forgetting just how vast the sky was. She watched a small cloud float across the clear - up, up and away. "I don't know if I'll ever be free from here, but I really hope you will... and your baby, too. This is no place for a child." A brief pause, and she cast Wynter a sidelong glance. "What of him, though?"
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Post by Wynter Willow on Jun 25, 2011 3:30:50 GMT
"Him..." she whispered to herself, "I like him well enough." She sighed looking beyound the garden into the city of london. "My heart though..." tears began to run down her cheek "...is in the city barely living probably. All thanks to my loves dirty old man of a husband." She wiped the her tears away and shifted on the bench allowing her hands to fall away from her stomach.
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Post by Genevieve Linton on Jun 25, 2011 4:46:05 GMT
"So, with someone else is where your heart truly lies," said Genny, finally comprehending Wynter's willingness to leave the Asylum and, by extension, Bramsfield as well. Whether or not he would stand in the way of her dream was a matter of contention, but Genny did not wish to add to Wynter's grief by bringing up the issue. Producing a handkerchief from a pocket on her nightdress, she leaned over, holding it out to her. "T'is a true injustice when soulmates are parted and made to lead lives not of their own choosing," she went on, her tone one of pity.
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Post by Wynter Willow on Jun 25, 2011 4:58:16 GMT
Wynter took her handkerchif wiping her eyes. "I believe we have not been properly introduced. My name is Wynter, what's yours?" She looked over to the girl wondering whether this was even the same girl who broke her masters arm. She was so docile and friendly, so unlike the girl she had met weeks ago.
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Post by Genevieve Linton on Jun 25, 2011 6:09:14 GMT
"It's Genny," was the smiled reply. "Forgive my lack of decorum." No stranger to being torn from a loved one herself, she had meant every word she said about Wynter's heartbreak being a great violation. With that, a seed was sown in Genny's fertile mind - one that would germinate a scheme to help Wynter flee the Asylum, should the opportunity arise. Roses would beautify the barren wilderness of Wynter's heart once again... and perhaps her happiness would bring Genny some of her own.
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Post by Wynter Willow on Jun 26, 2011 6:00:03 GMT
"Oh, it's okay Genny. I was actually afraid that you may want to attack me because of what happened." She confessed this shivering just a little feeling the cold as she rubbed her arms. She should have grabbed her master lab coat before she came out here she thought to herself.
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Post by Genevieve Linton on Jun 26, 2011 7:11:33 GMT
"Give Ján some credit, Wynter," laughed Genny, standing up and spreading, winglike, the folds of her gown. "He's more discerning than that." Looking for all the world like a nymph from the snowy mountains, she skipped over to the other girl, draping the fabric over Wynter's shoulders. "Let's get you out of this cold; a chill won't do you or your child any good. Besides," a gleam of wickedness entered her eye for the briefest of moments, "it's high time I returned to my cell. That chaser probably isn't going to be very happy when he wakes up from that knock on the head and finds himself locked in it."
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