[001] Chase the Morning

[mightyfineprint]

[432 Peepers Street | Morning]

[Mag doesn't remember falling asleep. She remembers getting dressed for her song, sliding on the talons she'd personally picked and bought for her final performance and then...nothing.

There's nothing familiar about the mattress underneath her. Or about the smell of the pillow and the feel of the sheets against her skin. Where is she? Did she faint and have to be taken somewhere? She finally opens her eyes, groggy from what feels like a long night's sleep-

Nothing but blackness. Mag lets out a sharp cry of surprise as she jerks upward in bed. What's going on, why can't she see?]


[Around Mayfield | Afternoon]

[Later in the day, Mag can be found on the streets of Mayfield. She'll be around; in the park, downtown and passing by houses. Best to familiarize herself with her new surroundings now.

But she's not alone. Her new[Bad username or unknown identity: "husband"] is by her side everywhere she goes, hovering around her and fussing like a mother hen. Every once in a while Nathan fumbles to take her hand and guide her. Mag is less than pleased with the attention, swatting him away at every chance.]



[OOC: Since Mag is blind at the moment and Nathan is a fussbucket, there's a high chance of being tagged by both him and Mag on the mean streets of Mayfield.]

Comments

Morning!

[keen_incisions]

[Meanwhile, in the guestroom, Nathan's going through the motions of getting ready for work. He makes a point of rising earlier than his "wife", whose presence has almost got him right to the very end of his tether. Brushing his damp hair into something with a little less of the towel-dried look, he shrugs on his coat and is about to head downstairs when he hears the cry.

...what? Hesitation keeps him rooted to the landing, fingers resting on the newel post. That isn't a sound he's heard from the drone before, shot through with...shock?

He could leave. He could go and leave her to whatever it is the drone is up to, throw himself into his work and ignore it. His work as a physician, a healer, what he always wanted to be from the beginning before...before everything. As much as he doesn't want to engage in any form or fashion with the drone, he sets his mouth in a line and walks back to the master bedroom door. It stands slightly ajar, and he only has to nudge it open further to poke his head in.

If she's fine? He's out of there like the devil's on his heels.]

...Are you-


['all right' freezes in his throat, his heart dropping to his feet. The flaxen-haired false wife is gone, replaced by someone he knows very well.]


Mag?

Afternoon

[derpaheal]

[And here Hanatarou is, just walking home from the torture known as high school. But seeing her...he has to pause for a moment. She's new and...well. Quite pretty. So he swallows, and tries to do the right thing.]

Good afternoon Miss! And Mister Nathan too-it's good to see you again!

Around Mayfield

[eyesofaserpent]

[He arches a brow, spotting Gil--- No Nathan, before he notices the woman beside him. He watches a moment, noting how he dotes on her, before he strides over.]

Hallo, Nathan. I didn't know you kept such lovely company.

[Around Mayfield | Afternoon]

[sinistralofdeath]

[Yet another day in the lifeless job of typing; today, Erim had decided to write about the priphea flower and the girl who bred it. A few meters away she spies a brunette and a gentleman who appeared to be a few years older than her, at least, with jet black hair. At first, the silver haired woman believes them to be a catty couple, with her swatting away his hand as he tries to hold hers…]

[But something about the air surrounding them makes it seem different. It shouldn’t be her business, but an inquisitiveness strikes her and she is asks as they draw nearer.]

Is everything alright?