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wearsredhelmet.livejournal.com) wrote in
shatterverse2009-01-07 10:52 am
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Yesterday, Bridgette made a snowman by the pond of the Cooper farm. Button eyes, scarf, carrot nose, branches for arms. Nothing terribly exciting about that.
Today, she's gotten tired of looking at it. She's outside, with a short sword in hand, glaring at the snowman intensely.
With a cry of 'en garde!' she hacks at her snowman's lower torso. Marie, sitting a few feet from the snowman, watches with interest.
Today, she's gotten tired of looking at it. She's outside, with a short sword in hand, glaring at the snowman intensely.
With a cry of 'en garde!' she hacks at her snowman's lower torso. Marie, sitting a few feet from the snowman, watches with interest.
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"Did your Mommy do special stuff too? Like on Christmas and stuff?"
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"No, but my Daddy did. He used to take me ice skating on Christmas Eve, down at the Gotham mall. And every Thanksgiving he made me hot cider. I never found out the recipe that made it really special."
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"My Granny was a good skater. The rest of us never really learned. We always kept falling down, but she kept taking us. Every time we went to her place on winter break."
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Oil paints to a seven year old girl; yes, Grandma Dubois was a bit indulgent.
"Ariel said I'd just make a mess with 'em but I never did."
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Bridgette becomes fascinated with her cup again.
"She's okay. I guess. For a big sister. Even if we fought sometimes. ...A lot of times. She was bossy. Um. Is bossy. If she's...out there.
"We used to share rooms until she got her own one, but I didn't get my own room, but I got the top bunk on the bunk-bed because Marie couldn't climb up the ladder well.
"The earth-house outside," Bridgette decides, "needs some bunk-beds."
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"I think Toph could make some bunk beds when she gets back."
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"Cool." If she were in a better mood, that'd be said with an exclamation point and a grin. Instead she looks interested but unsmiling.
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The words are whispered as Bridgette stares at Dinah's hand. ""
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""
Every word feels like she's trying to speak through a sore throat. She trails off, staring at 'Marie' , lost in thought.
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"We--" Startled by the loudness of her voice, Bridge falls quiet for a moment.
""
Another pause, this one longer. ""
Bridgette's entire body is taut as a coiled spring by the end. She wipes away a few more tears.
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"You're safe from him here, Bridge. If I ever see them, I promise I'll stop them."
Hell, Dinah might actually kill him. She knows who Marie is, now.
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""
Bridgette isn't letting go yet. The hug has now become clinging - both Bridge clinging to Dinah and clinging to the sister only she can see.
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She'll stay here for as long as she's needed.
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"We're tired. Can we go beddy-time?"
Bridgette hasn't said beddy-time since age five, but she's not in the right frame of mind to correct herself.
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A seven year old she can just about deal with, she's a strong woman.
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She gets up off the couch, scooping up thin air from the couch. The sword beside Marie is forgotten about.
Bridgette blinks in surprise, then kisses the air in front of her, much as Dinah kissed the top of her head.
She looks shyly up at Dinah. "Can you sing lullabies? Marie might need some. She woke up."
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She has unnatural lung capacity and absolutely perfect pitch, but her voice lacks something artistic. Superpowers without talent.
"I can manage rock-a-bye-baby, Though."
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