Alastor didn't keep her waiting, and she found that quite good of him on such short notice.
There was that familiar shift in the fabric of things, the air sucked out like a vacuum and then rushing back in. It was the shadow that emerged first, pouring out from the lines of the sigil on the wall like hot tar, but the sight of Alastor himself stepping through the sigil, so much simpler this time, sent a thrill through her that rippled up the length of her spine. It intensified the warmth already bubbling and threatening to spill out from her very skin, if that were a thing that could happen. Maybe it was? Who could say, given the the day she'd had.
Still, he was here again, and the buzz of magic set her hair on end. Had it been simpler for him this time? It seemed so. Perhaps it was just the adrenaline that lingered after surviving yet another storm (this had been fifty-two, she'd counted her log - a series of notches on a beam in the basement), but the whole affair felt effortless. She did hope he'd notice.
With any luck it would make up for the state of her home this time. A fine dust still hung in the air, that would linger for a day or two, but the fire was warm and she'd swept out most of the dirt. At least in any spot Alastor was likely to inhabit. If he looked outside he'd notice the dirt hungrily encroaching almost up to the threshold of the door, porch all but gone, and her clothes, along with the bedding, hanging on the line to air out in the breeze. She'd given them a good whacking earlier, but if they didn't shed all the dust by tonight, she'd have to drag her mattress to the fire and sleep there. Better than waking up covered in a layer of sand. It really did get into everything.
The familiar crackle of radio static preceded and accompanied his words, and it was so welcome Lotte had to suppress the giggle that fluttered into her throat because it was real. His presence now thwarted any lingering notion that what had happened was a dream (though the proof of that seemed irrefutable even in his absence) fairytales had a way of getting into your head and taking up residence. To someone who hadn't lived it, all this might seem like a particularly twisted little tale.
Not only that, but she'd managed to be interesting enough that Alastor had accepted a second invitation.
"Evening." She purred, and a grin curled on her lips, pulling the corners of her mouth up. "Just a social call, if you're not too busy for it."
Moving right now felt a lot like floating, but the space wasn't that large and she probably could have navigated it blind she was so used to it by now. An easy wave of her hand opened one of the cabinet doors as she reached it, and she plucked a glass from a shelf before sauntering back toward the table.
"Drink?" The question was asked, but Lotte didn't bother waiting for him to answer before she poured him a bit of the whiskey. If he'd actually been busy, she doubted he'd have come at all. And since he clearly wasn't otherwise occupied, he could certainly stand to have a drink with her!
"We had a dust storm today. Real nasty one too," she explained as she pushed the cork back into the bottle with a resounding pop before gesturing to the horizon beyond the open windows of her weary cabin. "...and - here we all are. Not dead! Thanks in no small part to yours truly."
Lotte swiped the glass up from the table and closed the distance between herself and Alastor without an ounce of hesitation. "So I figured a little celebration was in order."
"Care to join me?" She was close enough now, that she needn't even stretch her arm out half way to offer the glass - anymore and she might have touched him, and she hadn't had quite enough whiskey for that.
no subject
There was that familiar shift in the fabric of things, the air sucked out like a vacuum and then rushing back in. It was the shadow that emerged first, pouring out from the lines of the sigil on the wall like hot tar, but the sight of Alastor himself stepping through the sigil, so much simpler this time, sent a thrill through her that rippled up the length of her spine. It intensified the warmth already bubbling and threatening to spill out from her very skin, if that were a thing that could happen. Maybe it was? Who could say, given the the day she'd had.
Still, he was here again, and the buzz of magic set her hair on end. Had it been simpler for him this time? It seemed so. Perhaps it was just the adrenaline that lingered after surviving yet another storm (this had been fifty-two, she'd counted her log - a series of notches on a beam in the basement), but the whole affair felt effortless. She did hope he'd notice.
With any luck it would make up for the state of her home this time. A fine dust still hung in the air, that would linger for a day or two, but the fire was warm and she'd swept out most of the dirt. At least in any spot Alastor was likely to inhabit. If he looked outside he'd notice the dirt hungrily encroaching almost up to the threshold of the door, porch all but gone, and her clothes, along with the bedding, hanging on the line to air out in the breeze. She'd given them a good whacking earlier, but if they didn't shed all the dust by tonight, she'd have to drag her mattress to the fire and sleep there. Better than waking up covered in a layer of sand. It really did get into everything.
The familiar crackle of radio static preceded and accompanied his words, and it was so welcome Lotte had to suppress the giggle that fluttered into her throat because it was real. His presence now thwarted any lingering notion that what had happened was a dream (though the proof of that seemed irrefutable even in his absence) fairytales had a way of getting into your head and taking up residence. To someone who hadn't lived it, all this might seem like a particularly twisted little tale.
Not only that, but she'd managed to be interesting enough that Alastor had accepted a second invitation.
"Evening." She purred, and a grin curled on her lips, pulling the corners of her mouth up. "Just a social call, if you're not too busy for it."
Moving right now felt a lot like floating, but the space wasn't that large and she probably could have navigated it blind she was so used to it by now. An easy wave of her hand opened one of the cabinet doors as she reached it, and she plucked a glass from a shelf before sauntering back toward the table.
"Drink?" The question was asked, but Lotte didn't bother waiting for him to answer before she poured him a bit of the whiskey. If he'd actually been busy, she doubted he'd have come at all. And since he clearly wasn't otherwise occupied, he could certainly stand to have a drink with her!
"We had a dust storm today. Real nasty one too," she explained as she pushed the cork back into the bottle with a resounding pop before gesturing to the horizon beyond the open windows of her weary cabin. "...and - here we all are. Not dead! Thanks in no small part to yours truly."
Lotte swiped the glass up from the table and closed the distance between herself and Alastor without an ounce of hesitation. "So I figured a little celebration was in order."
"Care to join me?" She was close enough now, that she needn't even stretch her arm out half way to offer the glass - anymore and she might have touched him, and she hadn't had quite enough whiskey for that.