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Post by Aubre Ellen McKenna on Aug 2, 2013 15:20:22 GMT -5
The girl knew the company her aunt worked for closed at five; she had found that out where this business was by the letters that sometimes earned replies full of lies. Not wanting to be left outside, on a day where the sun and storm clouds battled for control, Aubre had left her apartment about six o'clock. From early that morning, far earlier than most people, she had spent her time staring up at a ceiling; this helped her avoid the moving boxes that leered at her in corners like storybook monsters. The walk had freed her from the smell of cardboard, snap of packing tape, and the constant questions behind her motivations. To be honest, with her back acting up and having taught until late the night before,, the walk tired her out; it was still a relief to have something else to do (other than worry about being forever unemployed).
The house was no different from what she remembered. Her feet had taken her nervously past on a few occasions; some of those had left the recluse with the temptation to knock on that door. She usually strode past the house and its beloved occupants--mostly for idiotic guilt and her own stupidity. Green eyes stared at the numbers beside the door, curled up like metal snakes, as she built up her courage. Her legs shivered. Just because this person was her aunt, and sent her letters, did not mean that she was wanted; Aubre had not felt truly desired in a long time. Her arms tightened in their sleeves of ratty and tattered cotton.
A masculine shout of rotest greeted her nervous action; she had forgotten her mostly silent companions: "Hey! Stop that! Mouse! You're crushing my ribs! It's your aunt, not a damn fire-breathing dragon. She has a big-ass house.." The hands had indeed began to squeeze the Helioptile in a far too tight manner. Tiny black paws shoved at her arms as she stuttered an apology (about six times). He jumped down to the well-paved sidewalk as his trainer spoke up: "A-actually, until we were nine and ten, we called her 'the dragon'---it p-probably isn't helping my nerves. It's a bit t-too large..." The little lizard was imagining a very tall woman with ham-hands, a voice like thunder, and eyes like steel; Aubre had spent most of the day trying to talk herself out of this meeting. Sometimes though, when she let her guard down, it became clear she was fond of this strange woman. A raindrop fell upon the crown of his head as he shook violently. "Let's get out of this damn rain!" When Aubre realized what the tiny reptile was doing, racing towards the door, she froze. Her heart pounded in her chest. The old shoes on her feet, now more pink than red, started forward with a strangled shout. Raindrops now coated her hoody as she sky began to sob. Feet pushed against the cement as the Helioptile reached for the buzzer beside the door.
Aubre hoped that the damn thing was broken.
The doorbell sounded like a gong (though it was only her anxiety that made it obvious); they reminded her of the type that might summon some vicious monster. The lizard, sitting upon the steps with a smile, lazily gestured for his trainer to join him; at least the dumbass girl would be shielded from the freezing rain.
A shake of her head.
Another shake.
Three refusals seemed to be the charm.
The other Pokemon beside her, a Persian in need of a small diet, hissed as a big raindrop splattered his nose. The spell was broken and Aubre stumbled up the stairs. Forest green eyes stared at the hedges for a moment; she was sorely tempted to just jump inside those until both storms (that of Lenore's reunion and the sky) had vanished. The branches looked like thorns and gnarled old hands; she would likely end up strangling or stabbing herself. Her hands trembled as she clasped them together. Aubre stared up at the door as it seemed to double and even triple in size. Nervously, twice, her throat swallowed.
Her foot slid back on the concrete and off the mat; it looked far too new and unused to be 'welcoming'. Two pairs of eyes, one exasperated and one concerned, turned towards her at the sudden movement. Aubre saw an accusation in their eyes. They were calling her a coward.
"I d-don't know what to say!" A hushed whisper to the two Pokemon sitting beside her. A juvenile part of her wanted to kick the naughty lizard for forcing her to do this. She had needed a plan. "I w-was going to plan it out and write something down first--otherwise I'll just end up sounding like an idiot. Aubre doubted that she would ever remember any prewritten speech--it was just an excuse to avoid it.
Her family might judge her. They might blame her for what had happened to her parents. Worst of all, if they comforted her, she might have felt the urge to just shatter. Aubre had spent all this time trying to be strong--she didn't want to lose it. The dragon did not care for these motivations and found them rather silly (if he had known); he just wanted hoped that this stern and oving woman would give Aubre what she needed.
"Calm down. Breathe, Squeakers. There we go!" He was trying to be encouraging. "I d-d-don't know what to say: "It's been almost two years--how's the dead r-relatives been treating you? I'm not dead!"?" The single deep breath returned to being shallow and nervous. Her palms were sweaty. Would Lenore even know who she was? The dragon chose that moment to be a smartass: "Hello. I'm from the Webster's company---would you like to buy some encyclopedias?" " ' Would you l-like to buy some encyclopedias?' Why would I--" The cat that had remained silent until that moment, licking detestable rain from his well-oiled coat, was the first to notice the door was open. He coughed and then spoke: ".....Umm, guys?..." Green eyes moved to him--he just pointed one large paw.
The nervousness reached its crescendo as time seemed to pause. The heart in her chest continued to pound as she cautiously lifted her gaze up. Her head shrunk down in between her shoulders as her hands clutched themselves before her. Aubre felt her back painfully go straight as she timidly ventured: "H-hello, Auntie. It's been a while..."
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Post by Lenore Tanaka-McKenna on Aug 5, 2013 16:40:52 GMT -5
The weather was not trying to make her day ideal, nor had her fellow employers. The day had dragged on, and the clouds that battled with the sun had only acted to make it more difficult for her to lift her mood. She was not overly cranky, she was simply... down. But such was the way of bad weather. Plus, being inside for the majority of the day did not help, but that was also a fact of life when someone worked a full time job, and had the position that she did. At least the tests had went over somewhat well, and she had gotten out of the office with little issue. She had even been so lucky as to avoid the rain that would surely start to fall later on in the day.
The day would prove to be full of surprises, however. Just how long had it been since she had seen her niece? The woman had thought about her multiple times, had taken pen to paper to try and contact her, but such things were not in her odds, apparently. The lack of answers had made her worried, but she had not wanted to intrude. At this point in time, Lenore was still oblivious to the girl that would show up on her step, and was currently curled up in the large house, she agreed that it was too large, at least for one person like her, with a Glameow curled up in her lap and a book in her hands. This was not the dragon woman that the pokemon was likely expecting to see. She was actually rather soft looking, although it was the coldish quality of her eyes that often got people, and the way that she held herself. There was a reason the kids had once called her that.
Clariese was resting upstairs, likely snoozing in one of the rooms, per usual, while Neveah fluttered around the house, cleaning up whatever mess the small family had made within the day. Nicoliv was curled up at the end of the couch, while the cat, Mischa, remained in its spot, trying to nudge the book that Lenore gripped out of the way so that she would pay more attention to her. Nicoliv's voice rose from his spot on the floor, although he did not look up, just listening to the rather loud purring of the feline, "Why don't you just pet her?" Mischa, of course, agreed. Lenore just threw the figure a look, "I'm readin-"
The sound of the doorbell made Lenore jump, since it was a rather nasty, loud one, and she had not been expecting it. Mischa leaped from her lap, little paws pattering across the floor as she dashed towards the door and cried back to Lenore, "I'll get it!" Just how the young Glameow expected to answer the door, when she could not reach the doorknob, and nor did they have a cat flap. The woman gave a sigh, before setting aside her book and swinging her feet around to stand. Just who would be coming up to her door? She very rarely got visitors. Perhaps someone looking for Voltaire? She would have to direct them towards the university, and give them his address. He usually only stayed here on the weekends. It made the overly large house more quiet than she liked, especially when none of her pokemon were overly loud, although Mischa made up for it by being overexcitable.
What she would find on the other side of the door would, however, shock her. The woman blinked in surprise as she pulled open the door, and her lips turned down in a slight frown. The girl and her pokemon were bickering, something to do with selling encyclopedias, but Lenore knew this girl. She had known her mother, she had been married to her uncle. It wasn't until Aubre look up and spoke, though, that Lenore actually snapped out of it, her eyes flickering down to glance at the pokemon who accompanied her, "...Aubre. I haven't seen you in forever." The frown on her face grew a little. She had not been expecting this.
Mischa, in the meantime, curled around Lenore's legs, "Oh! Aubre? Who's this? I don't think I've ever met her?" While, in the background, Nicoliv finally shifted from his spot on the floor, "Aubre? As in our Aubre?" Lenore wasn't the only one who was surprised.
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Post by Aubre Ellen McKenna on Aug 5, 2013 20:56:43 GMT -5
When someone rang the buzzer, seven levels below, it was always the Mudkip that ran to answer the door; not only did she lack thumbs, like Mischa, she also could not reach the door-knob. Aubre would have smiled at the determined little Glameow--the lavender feline was trying to be helpful. It would have made her feel more at ease (especially with the lack of reprimand) to see such a harmless and excitable little creature. When the door opened, revealing the starry-eyed baby, Aubre was reminded of Serena and her boundless energy.
Normally, with her anxiety cranked up to level twelve, the redhead would have heard the shouts from inside (the door was not soundproof); the arguing hid even the highest pitch yowls and heavy foot-falls from within. The opening of the door, noticed by the blue-eyed lizard, went unnoticed to the trainer. Her back, covered in three shirts (including the raggedy hoody), had been turned toward the now open entrance. The creak from the hinges, immediately after the Persian pointed out Lenore, sent a shiver down her spine. For some reason, as she turned toward the door, she was expecting a literal dragon. She had been a bit more petite the last time Aubre had seen Lenore; the elder woman had also not been in pajamas. Her chest still seized after that first glance--those eyes were still a bit intimidating. Her heart, nervous now for a different reason, still continued to pound against her chest.
Time stood still. Aubre tightened her fingers nervously as her gaze dropped to the concrete porch. Her shoulders butted forward as if that might shield her from what she was expecting: an irritated, angry, or bad reaction. The redhead had reached a pivotal moment and was equal parts solemn, anxious, and timidly excited. The Pokemon on the other hand had two very different reactions.
The Helioptile started giggling; his trainer had led him to expect a giant! This woman was just as tiny as his trainer! Lenore was a medget. She did not even look that scary--more like a cranky child. Green eyes narrowed at Alister as he tried to stifle his laughter. For days he had told horror stories about the 'dragon-woman'; the 'letdown' and false advertising was too funny for him to resist a few chuckles. His chest continued to shake as he swallowed down the worst of the noise. He couldn't look at that woman--with her frowning face--without bursting out into guffaws.
Arthur, unlike his companion, was much better behaved. He strolled forward to Aubre, now frozen like a deer in the headlights, and gently butted the girl with his head. His muzzle parted in a toothy smile as he stared at Mischa; while they always pulled at his nose, ears, tails and whiskers--like the naughty things they were--the gentle cat quite enjoyed children. "Good afternoon to you too, madam. It is a pleasure to meet you--we heard a lot. Most of it was quite good." That was the wrong thing to say as the lizard, not known for his impeccable manners, found a carrot within easy reach: "Yes. A lot about how she was an intimidating and stern woman, right squeakers? She's so tiny--hehe!" How did the lizard, barely a foot tall, get a right to call anyone small? While the cat made her step forward, and startle, it was the electric-type that freed her tongue. With a final calming breath, she spoke: "E-excuse him, Auntie. I d-don't think you're that intimidating--they were just stories from when we were younger." Did Lenore know what they used to call her? Would she be offended? Instead of answering those questions , and being less vague, Aubre allowed her smile to grow and then vanish completely.
The frown crushed her tiny little burst of happiness--had she did something wrong? Lenore had always been a woman who seemed to live on a schedule. First, before responding to the Pokemon, she put forth an apology: "I am s-sorry I didn't call; I s-should have done that, really should have did that--I can come back later if you're busy." A few rain drops blazed past the awning and onto her freckle-covered cheeks. Had she not just said she hadn't seen her in a while? Had she shocked Lenore--the iron-willed woman? "It's only been a y-year and a half or so. W-which is kind of long.." When a certain teenager was supposed to have been burnt to death, seriously injured, and was not known for her completely stable mental health--maybe a frown, after this long, was understandable.
The Glameow, like all of those other Pokemon, was the picture of health. Ignoring the dust left on her jeans, the nicest pair she had, Aubre dropped to her knees. Her hands reached out to gently pet the young Pokemon; the fur helped hide the trembling fingers and to calm her nerves. "Hello there, little one---what's your name? She was worried about being rejected. Aubre was terrified that this woman would do what the redhead did daily--blame her for the death of her parents. The masculine voice from within, one she recognized as Nicolev, drew her eyes up and brought out some optimism deep within. She sat back on her haunches and waved reluctantly as she turned to her aunt..
Their Aubre seemed like a good thing. The redhead could not resist the urge to let her heart swell with hope---that this meeting would go better than she had thought. No one seemed angry (even if Lenore--as usual--seemed stern).
"M-may we come in for a few minutes, Auntie, please?"
She was prepared to have that heart crushed.
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Post by Lenore Tanaka-McKenna on Aug 10, 2013 17:46:37 GMT -5
Mischa’s paws could just barely reach the doorknob, which they were batting at when Lenore approached the door, gently pushing the cat aside with her foot as she turned to handle. Mischa was young, although she was starting to show the haughty attitude that cats seemed to possess half of the time. Lenore found the feline tiring, where Voltaire had surely only been thinking on her behalf, having gotten her the cat as a way to chase away the fact that he assumed she was lonely after his leave for school. She had other Pokémon who would gladly have kept her company, however.
That sort of arguing could be heard through the doorway often. Mischa caused the most trouble, yet Lenore often butted heads with both Nevaeh and Nicoliv, although most of it was in good humor, and no grudges were held. The arguing could be heard before Lenore opened the door, but it was distorted in a way that she couldn’t distinguish who it was until she actually pulled open the door. Lenore had almost forgotten that she was wearing pajama’s. The Cottonee’s emblazoned across it likely didn’t help her any, not the almost too large shirt she wore. Lenore’s eyes had fixed on Aubre until this moment, but they now flicked over to look at the two Pokemon that had accompanied her. Aubre was staring at the ground, after all, and that didn’t help her make eye contact. Her expression would have been found to be more incredulous than anything, although that small frown remained fixed on her face.
Those brown eyes fixated on the Helioptile when he started to giggle. Eyebrows arched up, and her arms slowly crossed. She had not often been described as looking like a cranky child, although it was not far off, with her height, size, frown and the way her arms were crossed. At least her hands weren’t on her hips. Mischa’s eyes had also fixated on the Helioptile, apparently rather fascinated by the giggling that he was emitting. Just what did he find so funny? The cat continued to circle Lenore’s legs, just another thing that worked against her and her attempt to look ‘intimidating’. Did the Glameow have to purr that loud?
Arthur was much more interesting to the Glameow. Mischa’s eyes lit up as he stepped forward to butt his trainer in the leg, dancing forward a few steps herself, ”Hi there!” Lenore’s gaze moved to the cat, who’s polite words did relieve her face of some of the harsh features that had settled there, although when the Helioptile spoke again before she got the chance they reverted back to the way they had been before, ”Tiny? You’re one to speak. You barely come up to my knee.” If her eyebrows were any higher, than they likely would have been lost in her hair. She did, however, give a small chuckle at Aubre’s next words, ducking her head a little and tapping two fingers against her elbow, ”I suppose you told them about how I was the most strict woman in the family, or something of the sort, hmm? I wouldn’t be surprised.”
The frown was more just because of her own surprise at seeing her niece. After not receiving replies back, she had started to think that she would never see the young girl again, unless it was by some fate that she encountered her on the street, ”Yes, you should have… I’m not busy. Does this look busy?” She waved in general to her pajama clad body, ”A year and a half is a very long time, Aubre. I was starting to think you’d dropped of the face of the planet. It would have been nice to have a little contact. Just to set my mind at ease.” She hadn’t really meant to start reprimanding her. But it was the truth. Lenore had wondered for the longest time just what Brenna’s daughter was doing, and now here she was. A frown was more than understandable.
Yes, Mischa was, like all of her team, just a little spoiled. Mischa even more so, actually, despite Lenore’s slight irritation with the feline most of the time. The cat absolutely jumped at the chance to be petted. After all, Lenore had been neglecting her so horrible before that, ”Mischa! And you’re… Aubre? Lenore mentions you sometimes!” The woman would not turn Aubre away, nor did she blame her for what had happened to her parents, but Aubre did not know that, yet. The frown finally started to lift as Aubre interacted with the Glameow. It was hard to stay irritated when Mischa was around. Nicoliv, meanwhile, appeared behind Lenore, looking rather sleepy, but otherwise interested. A golden eye fixated on the girl, ”Well. Would ya’ look at that. It is Aubre. I’m a little shocked.” His voice was pleasant, as usual.
No one was angry. Lenore, yes, was a little disappointed that Aubre had not turned up slower, but nothing in her expression spoke anger. Just… as mentioned, it was stern. Lenore glanced back over her shoulder, before at her niece, taking a step back. Who was she to keep them standing in the rain? ”Of course, Aubre. We have a lot to discuss, after all.”
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Post by Aubre Ellen McKenna on Aug 13, 2013 0:27:06 GMT -5
The attitude of cats was something Aubre had found endearing; she especially now preferred it to the mindless soldiering found in dogs. The woman could understand the struggles of having a feline control your life (even if hers could take care of himself). The cat, while somehow remaining endearing, had some bad habits: scratching the couch, giving back-handed and sometimes too honest comments, hiding behind furniture when his trainer was in danger, and the ability to be Sphinx-like in his advice. The girl loved his company—just as Lenore likely loved Mischa. It was for a reason that Arthur, instead of someone like Sophia, had been picked for this particular one. Why had she picked Alister? To be honest, all things aside, Aubre did not remember inviting him. There was no point protesting though—the lizard would have came anyway. He was like a cat in a lot of regards.
The arguing was present in a lot of McKenna homes from what Aubre remembered; her and her own Pokemon, while the redhead usually backed down, were known for friendly competitions and good-hearted debates. The thickness of the door, visible even to downcast pine-colored eyes, made her shiver; it seemed oddly large for just a normal door. The sight of those pants, with the Cottonee (who the redhead saw as angry or sad), only served to slightly alleviate her fear. The fact that Lenore was likely not the type to enjoy being seen that way—far from her Sunday Best—was just asking for trouble. Hesitation to make eye contact, expecting the worst (such as her eyes to give away amusement at the pajamas), was a bit more prolonged than usual. It took forever for them to lift—just to see that little frown.
The lizard was too busy trying to stop louder laughter to notice the eyebrows or anything else. He just kept pointing at the child’s pajamas as if that explained everything; he had no doubt that, in order to find them in that size, Lenore might have actually been surrounded by six year olds. To be frank that image did not help him in his crusade to destroy all signs of humor. The lizard did not even look up at the ‘Tyrannical Aunt’ as he laughed. His body was likely quite entertaining for the cat as he hopped, shook, and spun in an attempt to stop himself---as we all know, as people two towns over could hear his guffawing, the actions all proved futile (though slightly amusing). The words from the woman drew a growl from him as he straightened to his full height—ruff going up: “For a human! I’m not a human so it isn’t the same. You’re just no giant—“ Aubre was likely shaking in her boots, he could smell her anxiety. While he was not always an angel, and would never claim to be, he never intended to hurt her . He kind of grumbled an apology to the offended midget (more like muttered one): ‘it wasn’t what was on the packaging is all, ma’am. Sorry. It might be the pants; you got spunk though.” He grinned at his trainer as the aunt moved to talk to her. He could practically feel the tension as Aubre took a shaky breath and moved to face the ‘beast’. One black-tipped paw reached out to pat her skinny leg as the cat nodded a greeting to both the kitten and the lovely older woman. This was not their place to speak any longer.
When it was not anger or annoyance that greeted her, as she had been expecting, Aubre felt herself breathe again. Her lips, chewed to bits, spread upward in a tiny and guilty smile. For the most part, when she spoke, her words were honest: “T-to be honest you were the strictest—just because the o-other two were so e-easygoing. I d-did not mean any offense. I m-meant it with all the fondness in the world; I a-always liked you…” The dragon could not resist piping up again—even if that tan tail drove itself under his chin: “Because you kissed her ass and played tattle tale, huh?” Pale cheeks flared red and she shook her head. The old her had not been the type to kiss ass unless it was absolutely necessary—it felt weird being characterized as such in front of this woman. Hopefully Lenore would not think that Aubre just wanted something (other than love).
The redhead had hoped others would be looking for her corpse; she had been terrified of a certain demon coming after her and had wanted to disappear. It had hurt her to stuff those letters, mostly unopened, into drawers and shelving units. Green eyes strayed to the pants and she frowned. Was it an issue that she did a lot of her own work in pants like that ? Would Lenore disapprove? For some reason she had thought Lenore slept in her fashionable suits and skirts. The blush deepened: “N-no ma’am, y-you do not look busy. I was just trying to be polite and make c-certain that you weren’t. Just tell me if you are; I can c-come back some other time…” Some part of her , while she wanted to hug Lenore, also wanted to run from her. Part of her hoped that the phone would ring and end this poorly planned ruin. The future scared her.
Something would have to change after this. The redhead’s heart would be fully opened to family again and her location easy to pin down; it brought to mind images of butterflies in glass cases—wings spread open by nasty little tacks. The scolding, as only Lenore could do, pushed her down into the concrete. Tears pricked at the corner of her dark lashes; “I am s-sorry, Auntie. I know it was s-selfish. I was just scared and I didn't know what to do. I tried to write a few times..” A sigh and a shake of her head followed shortly after. How could she have been so cruel? Wouldn't she have been made if Lenore had just vanished? She knew it was wrong—no matter what her paranoid mentality thought would save her: “Which wasn't what you d-deserved—I should have done more than t-t-try..” For all of the emotion, which some might have thought show, the redhead truly felt guilty. She had never meant to hurt anyone but herself with those actions; her urge to protect herself had ended badly. Lenore had not deserved sleepless nights, constant fretting, or unanswered questions. That frown, while it was intimidating, spoke volumes. This raven-haired “dragon” still loved her. Aubre had did something very wrong. A few black threads were pulled free of her tattered sleeves and dropped to the ground; her hoody was shedding like a nervous animal.
A few bits of fuzz likely dotted that lavender fur as Aubre moved to avoid her own embarrassment. The texture was comforting. Pale lips jerked upward slightly and a bit nervously: “O-only good things, I hope? That’s a very pretty name—how old are you?” Scarred fingers moved to scratch at that spot beneath the chin. Hopefully this little thing, with its obvious good treatment, would help protect her from any fire the dragon chose to breathe (especially the flames that were well-deserved). The shame in herself, for damning her parents and not lifting a finger to help them, sometimes made her hsoulders shake. She worried that Lenore could see it. Green eyes lifted to the old and friendly snake—another familiar she was grateful for. This time, when she grinned, it reached her eyes and temporarily brushed aside the nerves—except for Nicolev’s final words. Was her being here really that alarming? Did it bother him? Had he been worried too? “Y-yes. It’s me, Nicolev. It’s good to see you looking so well—your petals look s-stellar for this time of year.” Was she ass-kissing a bit? There might have been the tiniest hint of sucking up in those last words. Aubre still loved the reptile. The Helioptile, a bit intimidated by the giant python found her glee a bit odd---how did she find baby dogs terrifying when this thing was a friend? He did offer a nervous wave.
The realization that no one was going to slap her or strangle her was a relief (no matter that the looks of disapproval were alarming). Her chest tightened when the door was opened as rain splattered a few more drops against her cheeks. The last words scared her. It reminded her of the beginnings to an interrogation. A tiny throat bobbed nervously.. “W-what sorts of things? Nothing bad I h-hope? You don’t e-even know why I’m here…” Regardless of her worries, which were small compared to her growing hope, the redhead moved inside. The cat and the lizard soon followed with whistles of admiration. Aubre had not been in a home like this in quite some time “Now this is the life! Look at all the room! The floors are wood!” The cat spoke last with a devilish little smirk: “It’s a very beautiful home ma’am—you two may speak in private if you want..” Aubre again had to wonder one thing, as she frowned at authors: why did she like cats?
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Post by Lenore Tanaka-McKenna on Aug 15, 2013 20:15:03 GMT -5
Mischa was barely past being a kitten. The little feline was absolutely, well, horrible. Lenore’s once perfect, and rather expensive, leather furniture now had crisscrosses of scratch marks tainting its surface, and the cat had knocked over more vases than Lenore cared to replace, scattering water, glass and flowers across hardwood floors. The same with ornaments. Mischa was not graceful, as one would expect. Lenore had seen her fall off the edge of a couch and land with a flop on the ground. She would be lying if she said that she hadn’t chuckled once she knew that the Glameow was at least okay. Mischa had been more offended than anything. The cat did it too many times to be taken seriously anymore. Mischa was, to put it simply, a klutz. She was lucky she had claws to catch herself from time to time.
Lenore would wonder why she had chosen to let this little lizard tag along when it had such attitude. That wasn’t something she took to kindly, and she wouldn’t be overly pleased with the Helioptile. In fact, she may have to deal with her lack of enjoyment over his company more in the future than she really wanted. Not that anything like that had any reason to happen. Yet. The difference between her and Aubre was that Lenore wouldn’t back down in the argument unless proven outright that she was wrong. Nicoliv would often back down just because he got tired of how stubborn she was, not because the argument was over. He teased her over this just as much. The pajama’s had been another present, Christmas. Lenore wasn’t the type to buy something like this. She preferred solid colors. But they may prove to be a good thing, and prove to be a good thing that she wore them today.
She was no child. Lenore couldn’t help that she had been born on the smaller side; her personality made up for that easily. The woman was half tempted to get offended, but she was more exasperated than anything. Were Aubre’s Pokemon all so… rude? Mischa watched Alister with wide eyes, before starting to giggle herself. Her trainer was rather short, wasn’t she? This didn’t really help the situation. The tight press of Lenore’s lips descended into a complete frown. She’d likely, maybe laugh over this later. Those eyebrows arched again when the Helioptile rose to its full height. Her arms crossed, and she leaned back slightly, ”Oh, my mistake. Because you’re obviously on the larger side for a Pokemon… And are such a wonderful example of good manners.” No, this Pokemon would never have been able to act such a way if it had been her Pokemon, ”Just what did you expect? Spunk. That sounds about right.” Was that a touch of humor?
Lenore didn’t think she could get angry at Aubre. She could get stern, she could disapprove, but anger didn’t seem like something she would pull off with the girl. She had been rather fond of Aubre way back when, when the family she had married into had still been together as a whole. Tattle-tale? ”Oh yes. That sounds just like Aubre.” Her voice was sarcastic, and the frown alleviated slightly. The woman paused, ”…And I was strict for a reason. Kept you kids in line.” The joke may have been helped if she would get rid of that stern expression, but it remained fixed in place. She was still trying to discern how this whole situation was going to go over, and it was affecting her overall attitude. On most days the woman would have given a chuckle, and a small smile, perhaps even grinned or nudged the girl. This wasn’t most days. No days had been like this in a very long while, because Aubre had practically vanished before this.
It must have hurt, since Lenore sent more than just a few. It had become almost ritualistic… until the last month or so, when things had started to seem useless. She was not getting a reply, and the gaps between writing those letters had grown. Lenore would have--had told her that she’d be safe with her, that she didn’t need to worry, that they would talk this out and that she wanted to see her. Most of the time Lenore was in less than casual clothing. She had gotten home and chosen to wear this to try and relax. It hadn’t really worked as well as she would have liked, especially with what had appeared on her doorstep, even if it did make her feel more than relieved, ”No, this is a perfect time. Anytime before this would have been perfect as well.” Mischa below her gave a little snort. Aubre wouldn’t be getting out of this so easily now. She should have considered that before she stepped foot outside Lenore’s house. The woman wouldn’t have her vanishing again if she could help it.
Lenore didn’t really want to make her niece cry, but the woman wasn’t about to let her off the hook that easily for this. If Aubre had expected to find open arms and gracious words, than she was sorely mistaken. Lenore wasn’t about to be hateful towards the girl, but she was going to show just what she had thought of her disappearing, or at least get a legitimate reason why Aubre had done such a thing, ”I don’t think ‘tried’ to really counts, Aubre. It would have been nice to at least hear from you. I understand that you were worried, but…” She paused, frowning again. Lenore wasn’t even mad, just more… rather disappointed that Aubre hadn’t chose to turn to her during the entirety of this. Lenore would have been there for her, ”You should have. There isn’t much you can do to change that now, however. You’re here now, that’s… very important.” Yes, Lenore still loved her. The girl vanishing on her wouldn’t change that, even if her aunt had always, at the back of her mind at the very least, been worrying about the niece that had just dropped off the face of the Earth. That hoodie was given a rather disgruntled look, it was not exactly pretty, but that could be discussed some other time.
Mischa’s eyes lit up with being addressed, the Glameow arching her back and puffing out her fur slightly, ”Of course! Lenore’s super fond of you… I think. She never seems fond of anyone!” The woman snorted up above, ”Oh, probably a year now? Voltaire got me when I was only a kitten. I’m all grown up now.” That made Lenore almost want to laugh. The Glameow was definitely still a child. Looking up at Aubre with big eyes, Mischa couldn’t really understand why Lenore had such a stern expression on her face. She liked this girl already, and her pokemon were funny. Nicoliv, meanwhile, looked both amused and still rather surprised. His head arched up slightly, and the giant snake looked more than pleased when she spoke next, ”Stellar, eh? Hear that, Lenore? You could do to point out things like that more often. This reminds me why I always liked you.” The snake could take it. Suck up to him and throw a few compliments at him? He was bound to warm up to said person within minutes, and it was easy enough with the girl that he had already known for so long. The splice also had a bit of a big head, which Lenore knew more than enough about. Nicoliv glanced down at the Helioptile, who had spoken so out of turn against his trainer. He wouldn’t think he was overly intimidating… unless he wanted to be.
Lenore turned to walk back into the house, Mischa scampering around her feet and making her have to falter and pause in order not to trip over the little cat. Nicoliv moved back to his original position, curling up upon the cool, wooden floor as Lenore spoke, ”What sort of things? I don’t think that takes much imagination, Aubre. Where you’ve been, what you’ve been doing, why you didn’t think contacting me earlier would have been a good idea…” The house was rather big and extravagant. It had been renovated a few times, after all, and had been quite fancy even before that. The woman found it a little too much for her tastes, but she did enjoy it despite it being too big for just her and her Pokemon. She just wished it didn’t get so quiet by times. Brown eyes flickered over to look at the cat, ”That sounds perfect. Maybe the two of you can entertain Mischa? That includes you, Nico.” The reptile gave a huff, ”Didn’t think I’d be one of the one’s you’d kick out, Lenny. But I suppose there are other places in the house I can entertain myself… Where there isn’t cat’s trying to pounce on my tail.” Said tail flicked away, sending the kitten instinctively scurrying after it.
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Post by Aubre Ellen McKenna on Aug 15, 2013 23:51:06 GMT -5
(I was supposed to make this shorter---I failed. I am so sorry.)
The choice in Pokemon was a strange one. The cat beside her was not much better off than Mischa aside from his general maturity; he was clumsy and prone to moments of typical feline attitude. The Persian was her closest friend and dearest confidant—she told him almost everything. The lizard had come along to act as living courage and make certain that Aubre (his most beloved person in the world) did what she had to. Arthur, more apt to purring than rudeness, was much more like the others than the teeny reptile at her side. As the dragon showed his ass Aubre wondered why Alister was here at all.
The banana covered lizard—about the same size as the fruit—grinned at Mischa's laughter. At least one other person in the room lived life without a stick up their ass. Aubre looked horrified. The lady kept frowning and then replied with more humor than he had thought possible. Alister turned pink and barked back irritably: “Hey! I am quite tall for a Helioptile! Most of the other short things are l—“ The last words from the woman reminded him of his earlier promise to be a 'goody-goody'; he could, with that tongue, kind of understand the intimidation. He knew he had been an ass. Aubre had lapsed when it came to the Helioptile; her mind, broken and badly damaged after the attack, had not been focused on giving the lizard the best manners. Her foot, ready to nudge him if he had continued to be immature moved back to its former position.. Aubre looked far more ashamed than Alister—even if the latter as she latter apologized. The question about his expectations just made him grin.
The redhead was still fond of this woman; all she wanted to do, even with the stern expressions, was crush Lenore in a hug. Aubre just feared rejection.. If this dark-haired woman no longer wanted her, the same one who had bandaged her knees and held her hands all those times, the trainer might have given up. She had so little left that she was terrified to face losing it—no matter how little the chance of that happening were. The dragon snorted at the dark-haired woman's sarcasm. The idea that his trainer, the ass-kisser, had not been a tattle-tale astounded him. Aubre merely blushed at the misconception--at least he did not look at her like damaged goods or hold her to someone else's (her old self's) standards.
The dark haired woman had kept them in line; that stern brow could likely still scare her into submission. The redhead, unlike Alister, could sense the humor and giggled when Lenore spoke again. FOr a moment, before the lizard spoke, it no longer looked like she had swallowed a poisonous frog. Her head bobbed in thanks--with the tiniest of smiles. “You did keep us in line—my f-father is not always the best at doing that. T-t-thank you.” Alister,who could not resist,nudged Aubre (as a warning) and showed his "gratitude" to Lenore: “Thanks for making her so boring. Joel was an cool cat—not like you Arthur.” Aubre found herself smiling with nostalgia as memories compared her father with the stricter woman . The man, shaped like a tree and nearly as tall, had been far from strict; the horror movie knowledge, the lack of sleep, and most of the inappropriate behavior could be laid down to Joel. The man had given her other things too: compassion, a love for the environment, strategy, her eyes, her hair, her face, and a stubborn streak a mile wide. This woman had given her son those same things. How could she be scared of Lenore? Aubre did not find it that difficult.
The lack of affection and touching made her chest ache; she had expected open arms. Each second that went by without a hug, a kiss, made her heart heavier and the potential outcome seem darker. The tears started falling as the scolding circled Aubre's mind like a predatory shark; the feeling of the letters against her heart, unopened and unread, grew more apparent. Aubre had been afraid to see the words inside and resisted every urge to open them—just in case it could send her over the edge. Now she wondered at what they said and how they might have helped (or stopped this moment from happening). The last words from Lenore, with a bite to them, drew out the guilt in her heart. She could not even finish her statement as the feeling became a bit overwhelming. What she had been asking was: ‘is it okay that I come and see you at all?’ and the answer, while relieving, still managed to break her heart. She reiterated her earlier words: “I am g-glad not to catch you at a bad t---I r-really am sorry…I a-am…I s-should have came sooner.” Her body wanted to sob and she resisted it. This person being angry at her, because Aubre herself was an idiot , hurt more than anything physical. The redhead now wanted to fix this situation—or at least try—she was still stubborn. Those letters, which she had feared would damn her and blame her held everything she had wanted and needed to hear and they had never even been opened. The shedding of the black jacket grew worse as a pile of threads began to form—the cotton was unraveling. Some part of her had hoped those tears would end this part of the conversation --- the thing that had scared her more than any rabid dog: the disappointment. She swallowed her feelings before she shattered into a sobbing mess—leaving her family had been one of the worst things in the world. Her attempt to help them, to protect them from a blue-eyed demon, had hurt people. She could feel the love in these words--while they broke her heart—otherwise she would have backed off the steps and ran away. “I k-know it w-would have been and I m-made a mistake—I can’t fix t—“ Lenore finished her thoughts as her shoulders collapsed inward with the weight of her guilt. The green eyes lifted at the final words; it seemed the storm may be over. A solitary nod of her head—confirming that she was at this doorstep—served as her final answer. Aubre needed to stop looking at the past and the fact that this beautiful and lovely woman was just a few inches away. Lenore, unlike her parents, was here now.
This beautiful kitten was here too and not staring at her with eyes like hot pokers; it also seemed in need of some affection. Aubre needed a break from the "battle" Her lips pulled upward as she tried to calm herself down. Aubre adored the innocent little thing with its shining eyes. The redhead smiled through her tears at Mischa. “ I’m v-very f-fond of her too..” AUbre would not lose her love just because Lenore had been honest, up front, and avoided tip-toeing around what the coward did not want discussed. Aubre remembered the raven-haired and all of her loving moments—she was not the overly excitable type and she did not go out of her way to shower people with affection. “ She probably just has a hard time showing it.....” A smile followed as the excitement continued—Aubre could remember acting like this kitten once. It was vague. What she remembered more vividly was fire licking across her skin. She scratched a pointed ear: “Oh yes, you seem very mature and adult for your age—no reason to grow up so fast though..” The redhead, still stroking the cat, moved to speak to the snake. He looked identical to all of her memories—especially with that smile in place. Aubre remembered her first time seeing him--Aubre had been in awe (and might have used the word stellar).
The cat was also smiling at the snake; mostly because this grass-type, with its large size, would shut Alister up. Dark eyes watched the tail wave back and forth with the slightest of smiles--he was a cat.
The door closed.
It looked the same. The house, even with the little changes, was exactly what she remembered. Scarred hands stroked the walls as if they were skittish animals moments from flight. Aubre's life the past few years was unstable, and her home, once as certain as sunrise, was nothing more than ash.
The silence stopped as Lenore began to berate her niece again. Aubre looked down sheepishly. "”What sort of things? I don’t think that takes much imagination, Aubre. Where you’ve been, what you’ve been doing, why you didn’t think contacting me earlier would have been a good idea…” The redhead deserved the harsh words and took them without complaint or audible remark. Most of what her aunt said was not a question or asking for a response. The last bit, the question of why, seemed to demand a response; she was being accused of something that she had not believed. Her tiny frame jerked backward as if she had been struck and her hands tightened into fists. Her shoulders shook silently as tears poured freely down her face: "It w-was not a good idea! I know that....I k-know..." Feeling rude just leaving it alone with nothing further, drawing Lenore around with just a bait, Aubre decided to confess: “I just t-thought, I t-thought, even if I know y-you better, that y-you would hate me—that you—that y-you blamed me for what happened. That you thought that I I k-killed them—mom and dad. I d-didn’t want to look you in the eyes after that.” She tossed the letters, bundled lovingly and covered with past signs of guilt, onto the old table. "I k-know it’s not right, I know I s-shouldn't feel a-a-at fault….” Aubre refused to look into her aunt's eyes; her little tirade ended as she one other thought stood out: “I guess that’s why mom and dad paid that t-therapist…..” Finally, after gathering her determination, Aubre lifted her head.
The Pokemon were gone by the time Aubre broke down.
The little lizard reluctant and wanting to remain within earshot—as he was protective—just walked toward the nearest chair. The cat had wandered off to explore and keep the kitten (and snake) some company (even though he wanted to protect his trainer). He did not want to see his duckling cry.
Things would hurt before they got better.
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Post by Lenore Tanaka-McKenna on Aug 21, 2013 14:33:20 GMT -5
They did make rather good companions. Lenore would admit to that. Mischa had been even worse when she had first gotten her. She tripped over her paws easily, ran into just about everything because of the slippery floor that was the hardwood, and meowed for everything, since at that time she didn’t quite have human speech down. If that Persian was Aubre’s deepest confidant, than that would be starting to reflect as Mischa matured. Not because Lenore told her everything (She was more prone to that with Clari), but because Mischa was just good for listening, and then retaliating with kind words. That… was rather nice.
Stick up their ass? Lenore might not have been able to argue that one for herself, but Nico likely would have laughed a bit at that, or at least pointed out how he didn’t count in that category (Even if he did.). Mischa was the most laidback in the entire family however, and that was obvious to most. Not even that she was laidback, just that she was playful, wanted to have fun, and would laugh at things like what this little Helioptile was saying. Alister snapping out only made the feline giggle more, even if she was trying to stifle it now. Lenore just continued to look less than impressed, if a little amused. A very little. The short woman would likely take to correcting his manners herself over the next while. If he listened to her was another thing, but at least he stopped his little rant, seeming to realize his own questionable behavior. Lenore actually gave a small huff, almost an amused chuckle, at that.
Of course Lenore wanted her. She hadn’t seen her for so long, and it had came as a bit of a shock to the woman when she had opened the door and seen her niece standing there, but the last thing Aubre needed to worry about was rejection. It just hadn’t felt… right. Standing out there on the step in the rain didn’t seem like the time for heartfelt hugs. Which may have been something of a mistake on Lenores part. To risk losing it would have been to continue to avoid Lenore, to continue to not answer those letters. Lenore wouldn’t turn her away from the house, she wouldn’t turn her away from her love, even if right now she looked more stern than caring. Mainly she just wanted an explanation for why Aubre had been gone for so long, even if one had been given already. She wanted something more. The misconception did amuse Lenore to an extent, but she didn’t make any further comments on it.
Somebody had to keep the children in line when the other family members didn’t seem to be fulfilling that job. Perhaps Lenore just didn’t like bad behavior in general. She may have even been a little too strict by times, not that she’d ever admit to it. There had been no harsh feelings left behind by it, as far as she could tell, ”No. My job wouldn’t have been nearly as hard if Joel had bothered with it as well, would it have been? I didn’t think this would be the kind of thing you’d be thanking me for.” Below her, Mischa laughed. She enjoyed hearing Lenore sounding almost amused. It was a nice change to the usually stern attitude. Mischa, meanwhile, glanced at the lizard and snorted while Lenore spoke up again, ”Boring? So sorry that I made a mature young lady.” No, Joel hadn’t been strict, which had sometimes made the woman a little exasperated, no matter how much she had loved the man. Lenore had looked at most of the children the same way that she had with Voltaire, like they were her own, even if sometimes they aggravated her. She would have gone back to those days without a second thought, however.
She hadn’t meant to come off as angry. She also hadn’t meant to make the girl cry, or cause her any unnecessary pain. If anything, Lenore was just a little… hurt by her niece disappearing. And worried. Worried out of her mind, really. She hadn’t meant to come off as cold, the woman reached up to rub at her face, looking almost tired, “I’m not going to say anything more about that. The important thing is that you came, Aubre. I’m… very glad to see you.” If her words had been sharp and hurtful before, now her tone softened a bit. She was relieved, she was not angry with Aubre. She was a little hurt that she hadn’t come to her sooner, but she wouldn’t hold that over Aubre’s head, not yet. She wouldn’t turn her away at her door, because that wasn’t what Lenore wanted to do. She wanted the little redhead in her life. Lenore would have offered her something different to wear, something more suitable, until she knew the real reason behind the jacket. That thing was huge on her.
Lenore wished that she hadn’t run so quickly. The dark haired woman would have told her that there was no reason for it, that they would take care of her, and that she could take care of herself, first of all. Her attempts to protect her remaining family was something Lenore would understand, sympathize with, but she would also point out just why she, along with the other McKennas, would remain fine, ”…Like I said, what matters is that you’re here.” She would stop reprimanding her for now. She would put aside the worry she had felt for all those years, and instead concentrate on the fact that it was stating to look like she might have her niece back. The slumping of her shoulders made Lenore reach out, just to grip her left shoulder, and her lips turn up into a small smile. It did wonders for the usually cold expression she wore. Her blue eyes, often so chilly, almost seemed warm, ”So just… come on inside, okay?” Mischa was looking up at her trainer with an expression that could have been surprised. She didn’t see this type of warmth from the lady very often, with the exception of when Voltaire was home.
Yes, Mischa wanted the attention. Lenore spent many hours out of the house with her work, and she didn’t always spend the evening just paying attention to the kitten like the feline wanted. Plus most of the other occupants of the house didn’t share her playful nature, even if Nico occasionally accommodated and would give the little cat some of his time, ”Good! Cause I know she could use someone in her life besides me who actually shows a little affection.” Lenore rolled her eyes, looking both a little irritated with the kitten and amused. She had never been the type to shower people with affection. She had always been rather stern, strict and more the type to point out what was right in front of them instead of giving them a hug and telling them that everything was fine. The feline burst into purrs as her ear was scratched, ”Don’t let how cranky she is get to you. I bet she’s practically jumping for joy right now.” Jumping for joy? That was a little far off from the reality, but she was definitely much more pleased to see her niece than she was letting on. Behind them, Nicoliv gave a huff, ”Mature and adult. That’s one way to put it.” The felines indignant meow was the only answer he got.
The renovations to the house had mostly been for upkeep. Lenore hadn’t changed many of the actual features. Perhaps she was holding onto the memory of a past time, not that she’d ever admit to such a thing. Lenore would have been glad for not changing many of the big things now, seeing as it was of some comfort to her niece. The woman didn’t look down or away like Aubre did. She fixed her niece with a steady gaze and there was no disappointment in her eyes. Just questions that she wanted answered. Her expression did shift once the tears started again. Her lips turned down into another frown, but this one was softer, more worried than the last. She wasn’t a woman who believed in crying, but that didn’t mean that she enjoyed seeing her niece do it. Lenore hadn’t exactly meant to upset Aubre so much, but she wasn’t going to tiptoe around the problem here. That wasn’t who she was, and nor how she had ever handled any of these situations.
But the confession was more than enough of an explanation for the small woman. That frown changed into her lips pressing tightly again, her eyebrows jutted down, and her expression was one more of concern and well, in a way, bafflement. Her gaze followed the letters onto the table, but they seemed like fickle things now, ”Aubre…” The soft sigh was barely audible, and when Aubre looked up she would find that her aunt looks far from angry, or stern, or even strict. She definitely didn’t look like she was blaming her for the death of anyone, ”…Aubre, you thought I would blame you for something like that?” Maybe it was because Lenore would have thought such a thing so outrageous that she had never even considered it. It left her feeling a little shaky, ”I would never. Their death was not your fault, Aubre. That’s not something you should ever think.” The woman wasn’t one for public shows of affection. She didn’t often step out of her way to do something soothing, or something that could be associated with loving emotion. Yet this was one of those moments where things changed just a little.
Looking both shaken and concerned, and just wanting her niece to know just how she felt about all this, and that Lenore did in fact not blame her, that Lenore loved her, the woman stepped forward to pull her niece into a hug, the first since the redhead had appeared on her step.
”Don’t ever blame yourself for that.”
Lenore’s own Pokemon had left, not wanting to interfere on this moment. Mischa likely would have tried to linger if Nicoliv’s tail hadn’t swept the little kitten away, even as she gave an indignant and worried mewl. There was many other places where she could play little games, and where she could entertain herself without interfering on the discussion happening. Nico knew that. He would also keep Arthur company, if the feline wanted that. It would only be later that he would ask Lenore if she wanted to talk about this, if she wanted to get it off her chest. He was not always the one that she told things to, but he could be comforting, and he knew that he reminded her of better times, even if she didn’t admit to it.
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Post by Aubre Ellen McKenna on Aug 21, 2013 20:50:16 GMT -5
The reptile, not as good of a companion as either cat, was huffy, a hormonal teenager, and prone to just shouting out his opinion (with no care for what anyone else believed). He swore constantly; Aubre, who sometimes blushed when she used profanity, found this more annoying than anything else. The little yellow lizard did enjoy this cat (who seemed to adore his humor). He smiled at Mischa; this expression faded when Lenore turned to him. His smile turned into a smirk as he folded his arms. “Mature young lady? I see a little mouse in human clothing—think what you will. You still seem boring—they probably had a bedtime at sixteen.” Unbeknownst to Alister, as he had purposely never been told about the attack, he had picked the wrong age to crack a joke about. The girl had not needed a bedtime; she spent most of her sixteenth year in a coma on a tiny hospital bed with only IVs for company. The electric-type did not know that. His trainer shivered beside him and tightened her hands in the rough fabric of her hoody (which did hand down to right above her knees). Her green eyes shifted to the side. Unlike Arthur, who was quick to pick up on when he had offended someone, the tiny dragon was not so quick; he did not even notice the stormy blip on the radar.
The memories of childhood helped to banish the thoughts of slowly beeping machine, the hiss of the respirator, and the sounds of quiet sobbing. She wished her worst worries in that time, instead of just living through severe pain and nerve damage, had been a late curfew and Lenore. She smiled at the memories of her father—all bark and never bite. The redhead had been spoiled rotten. The tiny lady that was her mother had been the one to shake the stick. Aubre had never been a bad kid—if a bit nosy, sometimes too adventurous, and prone to staying up late. “N-no, it would have been a bit easier with his help; my mother did enough for both of them—to make up for when you weren’t a-around…” Why did it still hurt? Would there ever be a day where she could talk about them without any pain? The feline at her side nuzzled her hips as if imbuing strength. Aubre just smiled. If Lenore had not been a bit hard on her, teaching her a few things, she might have been in worse straits when she had found herself in the streets. Homeless could have gotten worse. The comment about her being mature made her blush; she had never felt like that—it was rare to get praise from Lenore. “Thank you—I can look back and say that it h-helped me. I know w-why you did it.” Aubre, out of fear of being contradicted, did not finish her sentence. This black-haired woman loved the tiny little trainer. The redhead just did not want her fears confirmed: that the term ‘love’ was past tense for a reason. A second of thought to go back in time? Aubre would have given a leg, an arm, and less than a quarter of that to not be in this situation---staring at her family like a stranger with a backache and a sense of paranoia. The old her never would have questioned Lenore’s love. Mischa made her offer up the most hesitant of happy expressions—it was refreshing to see such an innocent thing.
The girl had ran through these scenarios in her head when she met Lenore again. She had spent most of the past week imagining past outcomes. They all ended in anger; some of them, ridiculous and colored by dark nightmares, ended in murder and flames. Aubre knew these were ridiculous. She had been aware, before she had been corralled onto these steps, that things might have went badly. Her aunt had a right to be angry with her—that did not stop the stern words, especially as they were true, from delivering their sting. Her father and mother had also thought they would be just fine, they had known no better. . Aubre had remembered her original intent: to be strong. Her shoulders were stubbornly squared as she bit at her trembling lower lips: “Y-yes, I am here—and y-you’re here. It is s-still long overdue.. I k-know I deserved it—I k-know….” Aubre was back and not going to leave anytime soon. It scared her. She felt her heart opening up with all the things she had tried to ignore: her family, her nightmares, the past, and how broken she was inside. It would be hard for her to not come back again—it would hurt . For a moment her shoulder tensed at the contact, until Aubre realized it was not violent. She greeted the invitation with teary eyes. That warm gaze, blue like life-saving rain, made her smile. Not trusting herself to do anything else, other than burst into tears if she spoke, the redhead mutely nodded. The trainer continued to pet and massage at the kitten—she knew all the best places. All of her years with felines, being nicknamed one sometimes , had taught her just what to do. The half insult made her fret and worry as she turned her eyes toward the supposed insult. Aubre knew it was true—she could also tell that Lenore loved her (the honest words were what made her want to cry; she just felt bad). The Pokemon bickering made her giggle herself; it reminded her so much of home: the Volbeat and Illumise bickering like an old couple, the Blastoise and Venusaur sitting in the garage with novels, and the younger ones running about under foot. Afraid of angering her aunt, or encouraging the little feline, Aubre did not comment on either side. The girl just let her freckled cheeks spread upward in the tiniest of grins. She nearly laughed—she had no intention of offending Nicoliv. Green eyes, the color of pine needles, tried to take in all the differences (and devoured everything that was the same). Something caught her gaze. A picture sat within sight with someone in it she tried to avoid looking at: Aubre herself. That her had long curling hair down to her waist and a smile that would have felt forced on her new force. Those eyes didn’t understand. Her gaze quickly moved on to the next feature in the room; the little table, with a few antiques, had not changed either—it also reminded Aubre that at home, before she ran, that she needed to dust. Her head lifted; that was enough procrastination.
The smaller-framed woman was not the type to cry either; she bottled her emotions, drove them away, and tried her best to keep them at bay—like a hungry wolf about to eat her. She had not cried for months after her parents died. Only when faced with someone like Lenore, a person she adored deeply, did that shell—the one who only gave half-answers, withheld her true opinions, and always answered “fine” to how her day went—begin to shatter. The question had meant to be answered without emotions. Aubre had meant to be quick and to avoid showing anything about how badly these thoughts hurt her—maybe even laugh it off as stupid. It just had not happened like that The tears did not want to stop and a broken girl would find it hard to force them.
The sigh of her name began to give her hope. It did not sound angry or annoyed. She hated how weak she felt right now and did not want to hear the pity; that tone made her feel far more broken. Was that an accusation? Was she angry that her own twisted mind had made her aunt into a monster? She had never truly thought that—not about Lenore; it was hard to argue with the potential for that to happen. Her head just shook twice as she stubbornly wiped at the tears that would not be dammed. A bitter chuckle was followed by a tear-filled and self-admonishing one: “I k-know. I know it wasn’t. I know I d-did not do it. I j-just didn’t want anyone to ever get h-hurt again….” Still, even if she knew better, why did it hurt her so badly? Why did she have such a hard time getting free of these mental shackles? Why did they refuse to pop free when she was reminded how this was not her fault? The hoody was pulled close as she tried to act like—instead of hugging it—that she was brushing off a pretend stain.
Aubre felt a bit safer during that hug (regardless of how small Lenore was). She felt so foolish at the same time. A deep shaky breath as she wrapped her arms back around Lenore---timidly at first—as if her aunt would burst into flames. Aubre didn’t really care about those tears any longer. They felt right. “I’m so s-s-s-sorry…” It was not Lenore she was talking to—or at least just Lenore; she was apologizing to herself, her parents, to anyone she had ever ignored and pushed away for all this time: everyone. Her arms tightened briefly. The sleeve, hanging past her fingers, gently wiped away signs of her tears. She hated being exposed like that. She offered a timid smile. “I’m sorry about your shirt, Auntie.” That apology, accompanied by an uncomfortable shuffle and a dab at her shirt, was directed at her aunt. Sniffling was hard to stop—the sobbing was over. She was a big girl (no matter how much these things hurt and made her fret). She put on a brave face and leaped at a chance to change these subject. “I k-kind of need a favor..” Would Lenore think she was trying to use her? She just wanted to leave all these memories behind—so she moved on alarmingly quickly. Aubre avoided herself more than any relative.
The cat just explored the house with a smile. This place was nice. It smelled nice. Even Aubre, hopefully, could not conjure anything scary within its walls. He ignored the lizard, fiddling with the remote (and trying to look like he didn’t care about Aubre). The cat could hear his trainer struggling with herself. “I truly do hope she feels better; My little duckling needed it…” Alister piped up from his chair as the television finally flickered to life: “I need to keep this flat-screen!” Aubre felt her heart drop as she heard the thought before the lizard voiced it: “And to not live in a cardboard box anymore!” The redhead froze like a deer in the headlight. She then just shook her head and waved his complaint away—Lenore had seen how he was. They wouldn’t be in a box.
"T-t-that wasn't a very funny joke, Alister."
Aubre had always been a shitty liar.
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Post by Lenore Tanaka-McKenna on Aug 27, 2013 18:34:42 GMT -5
Mischa may have been a little childish, but Lenore got off the hook on not having a Pokemon similar to Alister, in the ‘hormonal teenager’ way. The majority of her team was also quite a bit older, however, and with age usually came maturity. Or perhaps she just left little room for anything else, as much as the kitten slipped between the rules of the household. Lenore’s gaze flickered for just a moment to look at her niece, but her words were meant to bring out some humor in the girl, to combat what had just been said, ”Young lady or tiny mouse, you’d still better watch your tongue, or else I’ll be talking to Aubre about getting you a bedtime of your own.” Mischa, below her, gave another giggle. When Lenore chose to joke around, the kitten always found it hilarious. In truth, Lenore was just trying to lighten up the tension that suddenly had filled the air.
The time at the hospital, with Aubre in the coma, had not been a good memory for any of them. Brenna’s tears, seeing her niece in that bed, attached to multiple machines, and just the general atmosphere of the room… It was not something that Lenore enjoyed thinking back on. She couldn’t imagine how that would have been amplified in Aubre, ”I bet she did. I couldn’t carry all the weight.” Lenore wouldn’t have expected her to talk about them without some pain. They had been her parents, after all, the loss would have still been fresh, and such pain didn’t heal over night. She would remind Aubre of better times, better memories. The woman thought that the praise had been earned—even if she hadn’t seen the girl in nearly a year, ”I did. I don’t think it left you with any harsh feelings, or caused any harm, anyway.” There was a color of humor in her voice. This Aubre shouldn’t have had to worry either. Lenore was more than likely to accept her back with open arms—she had already accepted her back, even if Aubre may have still been worried. The woman did love her niece.
That hadn’t changed, nor would it. Lenore had always been quite fond of her niece. She had often looked upon the other children in the family as also her own, and Aubre had been no different. If anything, she had felt even closer to the young redhead. Yes, Voltaire had taken up her time. Aubre had managed to get quite a bit of her attention as well—even if she had been the strict parent. Perhaps if the McKenna line didn’t often seem to breed stubborn behavior, this situation could have been diverted—at least somewhat. Lenore was more than certain that she’d be fine in the long run. Nothing bad would come of her. That was one worry that Aubre didn’t need to have. Lenore would have left it at that. From behind, Nico spoke up again, though he sounded more joking than anything, ”Overdue is right. It’s been boring around here without Lenore’s favorite niece.” Lenore gave the Pokemon ‘a look’, she didn’t believe in picking favorites. The snake just looked pleased. The tears in Aubre’s eyes made Lenore feel rather bad with how harsh she had been, but she simply gave Aubre a small squeeze on the shoulder. The nod seemed to be a good sign, and it was better than nothing. Lenore would be there for her niece; there was no changing that. However Aubre was hurting, however she needed someone to stand by her, she’d find that in her aunt if she looked close enough.
Watching Aubre pet the feline, Lenore was a little amused. The cat would warm up to her niece fast enough—she already had. Lenore herself wasn’t home enough for Mischa’s liking—she didn’t get nearly enough pets from the stern woman. No wonder she begged so much. As much as she almost felt like snapping at the Pokemon—just in a manner of have a little respect, Lenore didn’t. The small grin on Aubre’s face was much more valuable. She did comment on Nicoliv’s words about the kitten, ”Mischa is very mature, Nico. More than you.” The snake gave a snort. The picture hadn’t moved for a very long time—Most of the pictures on the walls reflected better, happier times. Aubre could be found in quite a few of them. Others mainly just showed scenery. Places where there had once been her family shots now mainly had images of beaches, city streets, or other nature shots. They hadn’t been thrown away, however. Simply boxed and stored.
Sometimes bottling up the emotions could be as painful as letting them out, however. Lenore may have told Aubre about this, even if she did the very same thing, whenever she bothered to let something get to her. So Lenore would not frown at the tears, her usually stern face would soften, and a more loving aunt, the one that Aubre would likely need in these few moments, would show itself. She wasn’t always the scary, stern woman that had originally answered the door. She was also a mother, and by times she considered herself to be a damn good one.
Looking at her niece now, Lenore would have thought that she was more strong than she had originally assumed. The tears, the fears, the confessions. They all added up to prove that, at least in Lenore’s eyes, Aubre was a strong woman. She had not meant to have the words come off as accusatory in any way. She was simply a little shocked by the entire thing. Lenore’s own hands wanted to reach up to wipe away some of those tears that, at the moment, seemed to fall endlessly, ”Of course not. That isn’t the type of weight you should have to carry on your own, Aubre.” It was in moments like this, seeing her niece so torn, that Lenore wished she could have been there for her sooner, even if she had already tried to be as the letters showed. A persons mind could be as harsh of an enemy as another individual. Perhaps Lenore could have helped her through this sooner.
She was glad that Aubre accepted the hug. The arms around her back finally made Lenore feel like her niece was actually here, and wouldn’t just vanish again. She wanted to help her, she wanted to be there for her, and this was how she would do it. Arms wrapped around the redhead, and Lenore did what she could do best in that moment, she just hung on. She wouldn’t give a reply to the apology, because she felt like it was something that Aubre needed to get out. The shirt didn’t seem like much of a price for the steps that had just been taken—Lenore’s eyes crinkled at the corners even as she gave a small smile, ”It’s just a shirt, Aubre.” The woman reached for a box of tissues that sat on one of the nearby cub boards. They would come in handy right now, or so she suspected.
A favor? Lenore wouldn’t turn it down, whatever it was, ”Okay. What do you need?” The memories stung. Facing them could also heal, just as much as it may hurt, but those things would come in time. There was no need to rush it.
Mischa had settled onto the top of said couch, watching the lizard mess with the remote—something she could never function herself. Nicoliv’s voice was soft, but truthful, ”I’m sure she will. Lenore’s better at comforting than she seems.” Maybe that was just because he was truly fond of the harsher, older lady, but Nico had always thought she had a certain way of getting people to feel better.
Before Lenore herself could make any comments on the box, besides her eyebrows arching up, the creases in her forehead showing that some sort of comment was coming on, Mischa raced her too it, ”Boxes are fun! Why wouldn’t you want to live there?”
No, Aubre wasn’t exactly a very good liar. Lenore’s own words made that clear.
”…A cardboard box, hm?”
Wasn’t there usually a piece of truth to anything spoken?
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