Lee Everett (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rightchoices) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
paradisalogs2013-12-29 02:49 pm
rightchoices) wrote in paradisalogs2013-12-29 02:49 pm
Entry tags:
we could talk about the lives we've led
Who: Lee and anyone!
What: Visitation hours are open at Clem's bedside while she's unconscious for his canon update. Feel free to tag each other, too! Bracketspam or prose are both A+ fine.
When: December 27th-Jan 2nd
Where: Clementine's room.
Rating: PG-13 for language, maybe? Will update if content changes.
On the first day, when Lee sits at all, he perches on the edge of her bed and waits for her to wake. A protective vigil, maybe, or a manifestation of guilt that he'd let this happen to her at all. (Rationally, he knew that there was nothing he could have done. Things like this happen. It's life, and there's no way to get around it.)
On the second day, he drags a stool over, and barely speaks.
Finally, on the third, he wishes up a high backed chair that is more comfortable than it looks. He keeps the area around it tidy, but the stack of books and notebooks grow. He doesn't shave, but he eats enough to keep him going. Showers and changes early every morning, feeds and takes Clementine's puppy outside for a few minutes, just out of habit; he doesn't want he recoiling in disgust when she does finally wake.
Regardless, Lee will be in Clementine's room almost the entire week, eyes probably on some sort of book in his lap, though he can, occasionally and if the door is opened quietly enough, be found either talking or reading to her. In short, he's the picture of a father, worried sick about a silent child, and nothing short of the castle's magic itself could get him to leave for any extended period.
What: Visitation hours are open at Clem's bedside while she's unconscious for his canon update. Feel free to tag each other, too! Bracketspam or prose are both A+ fine.
When: December 27th-Jan 2nd
Where: Clementine's room.
Rating: PG-13 for language, maybe? Will update if content changes.
On the first day, when Lee sits at all, he perches on the edge of her bed and waits for her to wake. A protective vigil, maybe, or a manifestation of guilt that he'd let this happen to her at all. (Rationally, he knew that there was nothing he could have done. Things like this happen. It's life, and there's no way to get around it.)
On the second day, he drags a stool over, and barely speaks.
Finally, on the third, he wishes up a high backed chair that is more comfortable than it looks. He keeps the area around it tidy, but the stack of books and notebooks grow. He doesn't shave, but he eats enough to keep him going. Showers and changes early every morning, feeds and takes Clementine's puppy outside for a few minutes, just out of habit; he doesn't want he recoiling in disgust when she does finally wake.
Regardless, Lee will be in Clementine's room almost the entire week, eyes probably on some sort of book in his lap, though he can, occasionally and if the door is opened quietly enough, be found either talking or reading to her. In short, he's the picture of a father, worried sick about a silent child, and nothing short of the castle's magic itself could get him to leave for any extended period.
no subject
It's too sad.
She asks for no permission from Lee when she steps closer to the bed, placing her gift on the side table and leaning in to kiss the girl's forehead.
"I wonder if she dreams at all and if they are good ones."
no subject
When she moves to kiss Clementine's forehead, he leans back, trying to give her respectful space and to rub his eyes are surreptitiously as possible.
"That's about the most we can ask for." He pauses, a little awkward, glancing at the window in an attempt to check the time by amount of daylight. "I'll make sure she eats one of those when she wakes up."
no subject
"Perhaps I should have brought her a dress instead. I told her once that she looks most lovely in blue," but by now she's only pandering. It was two years for her. Two years spent back home only to find herself back here. It's hard to say whether this is a similar case.
"When do you suppose she will wake?"
no subject
The answer to that comes immediately, with force behind it - it's not aggressive or angry, but simply spoken with absolute assurance. It'll be soon, because it has to be soon; there is literally no other answer that will satisfy him.
Belatedly, though, he seems to realize that that isn't all that Lucrezia has said, and he continues:
"You think so? I really don't know much about... fashion. Glad that someone around here does."
no subject
"Fashion? No, I know only that little girls should be given the chance to look beautiful," then almost as an afterthought. "Whatever that should mean."
There are those who would look only for pale hair and skin for signs of beauty but Lucrezia thinks she knows far better than that. Sancia was too beautiful with her dark complexion and devilish smile and Clementine too, with her tiny curls and a smile as bright as the sun. Who knows if those things will last?
"What will you say to her when she wakes?"
no subject
"'Good morning,' probably." It's said with a humorless half smile, and Lee shakes his head as he drops his head. "I don't know. Figure the 'what' doesn't matter so much. As long as I'm here."
no subject
"I am here is good enough, though her smile is cheeky. "Lest she wakes in the evening."
no subject
"How have you been, anyway? I don't keep up with people here like I should."
no subject
"As well as one can be." She means to say, in a castle such as this one, where friends leave without goodbyes. "We should both thank Clementine for the chance. How have you been keeping?"