likeblueblazes: (Worried)
Ophelia de Luce ([personal profile] likeblueblazes) wrote2015-05-09 08:25 pm

Take my petals and cover me with the night.

After nearly a week in the hospital, Ophelia finds herself released back home at last. Under certain conditions, of course. The doctors told her that she would still require extensive amounts of rest. They tell her that she is allowed to move around her own apartment, provided that she doesn't move around too much. Essentially, they place her on bed rest without explicitly stating as much, complete with knowing, damning looks. The de Luce-ness of such instructions infuriates her; she might as well be placed under house arrest, or so it feels to Ophelia.

Of course she exerts herself too much once she arrives back in her apartment; she has to call Miss Cordelia to inform her of everything, first of all. Miss Cordelia, naturally, insists on coming over and seeing Ophelia for herself. Ophelia endures nearly three hours of her boss mother henning her - from cooking for her to tidying up a bit in the kitchen. And then nearly another hour of discussing potential venues for the piano recital.

By the time Miss Cordelia leaves, Ophelia feels the weariness settle into her bones. Her neck aches from beneath the bandages covering it, and dizziness follows her every step. She ignores the medication they sent her home with, knowing it will only put her right to sleep. Instead, she makes her way to the piano, where she plays an assortment of her favorite songs, until a knock on the door interrupts her playing.

"Coming," she calls out, her voice still weak and ragged from her injuries. At the very least, a visitor should energize her. She hopes.
propertool: (a line that never ends)

[personal profile] propertool 2015-05-10 02:08 am (UTC)(link)
Dorian is at Ophelia's door. And, not knowing that she's just spent the better part of three hours being mother-henned by her boss, he starts in as well as soon as she opens the door, giving her a surprised and incensed look of aghast concern.

"Are you here alone? With nobody tending to you?"

He has a box tucked under his arm, covered in white paper, with pale seafoam green ribbons. A get-well-soon present. Dorian wants to argue that Ophelia would get better sooner if she were sitting in bed.
Edited 2015-05-10 02:10 (UTC)
propertool: (my skin will still sag)

[personal profile] propertool 2015-05-10 11:56 am (UTC)(link)
"If the young lady insists," Dorian says, in a tone that suggests that he is mostly not arguing because he has heard her tone and does not want to push the subject an inch further. It's too easy for worry to take him over, even when dealing with someone he knows barely further than acquaintance. Worry makes him bossy and frustrated. He knows no other, more healthy, way to cope with it.

He waits for her to step aside before moving in, not wanting to do so without her permission. He is only too aware that it wouldn't be appropriate, with his age, to invite himself.

"It is for you. I thought I might bring you something to brighten up your room."

He holds it out to her with a small, courtly bow and a flourish of a hand. Inside the box, gently wrapped, is a vase filled with flowers -- not normal flowers, but crystal-clear lilies, finely crafted out of ice, enchanted to not melt in the heat of late spring. A parlor trick, to someone with powers like Dorian's, something his father would have despised. Making them pleased Dorian, though.
propertool: (it's written on the mountains)

[personal profile] propertool 2015-05-11 02:13 am (UTC)(link)
"Wine," Dorian says, a little too quickly and a little too automatically, before wondering if he ought not correct himself. He does. He doesn't want to give someone Ophelia's age any bad examples. Despite the fact that he is a walking bad example.

"Tea, I mean. I can make it, if you tell me where everything is in the kitchen? So long as you don't mind that mine has the consistency and strength of a punch in the jaw. Biffy has already complained," he says, airily.

"And I'm glad that you like them." His face shifts by inches, warming around the eyes in uncertain satisfaction. It's not often that someone is impressed by what he has to offer. "They aren't much. I'm talented. They won't melt, either, though they are rather fragile. I'm a mage, not a miracle worker, after all."

(no subject)

[personal profile] propertool - 2015-05-13 03:26 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] propertool - 2015-05-15 23:24 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] propertool - 2015-05-16 02:17 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] propertool - 2015-05-16 03:20 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] propertool - 2015-05-16 03:40 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] propertool - 2015-05-17 02:06 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] propertool - 2015-05-17 02:43 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] propertool - 2015-05-17 03:18 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] propertool - 2015-05-17 23:49 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] propertool - 2015-05-20 02:16 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] propertool - 2015-05-20 02:45 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] propertool - 2015-05-26 22:38 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] propertool - 2015-05-27 08:17 (UTC) - Expand
spirit_of_vitriol: (hesitant (Hollow Art))

[personal profile] spirit_of_vitriol 2015-05-10 03:17 am (UTC)(link)
As she locked Gladys to the bicycle rack, she saw Feely's employer--the reason, Flavia knew, her sister had been put in danger at all. She wished they hadn't used all the liquid nitrogen at the party; a solid dousing in the stuff would serve Miss Capulet right. As it was, she brushed past her on her way inside, offering nothing more than a narrow-eyed glare and a "Cordelia" in greeting, said as frostily as she could manage.

It was, Flavia hoped, even more damaging than freezing her with super-chilled chemicals could ever be.

Knocking on Ophelia's door, she listens carefully for the sound of anything amiss--a task she concentrates on so completely, she almost falls over in surprise as the door opens. "I brought you ice cream," she says once she's recovered, holding up a small cooler. "From the party."
spirit_of_vitriol: (quiet (Hollow Art))

[personal profile] spirit_of_vitriol 2015-05-16 03:41 am (UTC)(link)
That her sister doesn't just slam the door in her face upon seeing her is merely just the next surprise in what's already turned out to be a visit full of them. Flavia, too, remembers all the things they said to one another in the wake of Feely's attack; the caustic words borne of anger, and fear, and so many years of silent suffering. Neither one of them deserved it, especially not then--perhaps not ever.

It's that thought that sets her into motion, crossing the threshold into the apartment, passing Feely with an air of unconcern--immediately ruined by the concerned glance Flavia gives the bandages still at her throat. "It wouldn't taste quite as good melted," she agrees quietly, setting the cooler down on the kitchen counter and busying herself with unlatching the lid.

"The party was lovely," she says, adding after a moment, "You were missed." She doesn't bother clarifying by whom; let Feely draw her own conclusions.
thecautionarywhale: (happy)

[personal profile] thecautionarywhale 2015-05-10 12:52 pm (UTC)(link)
Juno's been to the hospital to see her friend, had brought flowers and everything. But hospitals remind her of a time she'd rather put behind her, and she's happier to see Ophelia when she's home.

When the door opens, she holds out a box. "I brought cupcakes. From that place down by the record shop. There's salted caramel, and buttercream, and strawberry, and a couple other things. Frosting always makes evrything better, right?"
thecautionarywhale: (Default)

[personal profile] thecautionarywhale 2015-05-14 05:11 am (UTC)(link)

"Possibly the first time I've been called a saint, but I'll take it," she laughs, waving Ophelia toward the couch. It's too soon for the other girl to be up and making things. "You sit. I'll make. I mean, I have figured out tea half-decently."

(no subject)

[personal profile] thecautionarywhale - 2015-05-22 10:04 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] thecautionarywhale - 2015-05-27 09:05 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] thecautionarywhale - 2015-05-31 12:08 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] thecautionarywhale - 2015-06-02 13:09 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] thecautionarywhale - 2015-06-05 13:16 (UTC) - Expand
modern_alpha: (A new cravat and a smile)

[personal profile] modern_alpha 2015-05-11 06:44 am (UTC)(link)
"Hello, Miss Ophelia," Biffy said, smiling politely from the doorway. Though he'd visited at the hospital, it was delightful to see her at home and ostensibly on the way to recovery and working on something she enjoyed. His extra sensitive hearing had picked up the melody from several yards away and thought it lovely.

"I come bearing gifts," he said, holding up the small care package he'd arranged of a few fashion magazines, a box of chocolate bars, and--because he'd been in a cheeky mood--two new handkerchiefs, monogrammed with Ophelia's name.
modern_alpha: (Tea with Alexia)

[personal profile] modern_alpha 2015-05-12 06:54 am (UTC)(link)
"I did say we'd have that talk, didn't I?" Biffy said, clearly relieved to see her up and about. It had been so dreadful, seeing her fallen and covered in blood. He'd forgotten, Biffy realized, just how unpleasant it could be, being only mortal. One was so weak and took so long to heal and he'd taken his wolfy nature for granted.

"And tea would be grand!"

(no subject)

[personal profile] modern_alpha - 2015-05-13 04:46 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] modern_alpha - 2015-05-14 04:48 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] modern_alpha - 2015-05-16 00:34 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] modern_alpha - 2015-05-16 04:15 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] modern_alpha - 2015-05-17 03:14 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] modern_alpha - 2015-05-17 05:27 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] modern_alpha - 2015-05-18 07:21 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] modern_alpha - 2015-05-19 02:22 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] modern_alpha - 2015-05-20 01:27 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] modern_alpha - 2015-05-20 07:34 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] modern_alpha - 2015-05-21 06:47 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] modern_alpha - 2015-05-22 02:22 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] modern_alpha - 2015-05-24 04:14 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] modern_alpha - 2015-05-26 05:11 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] modern_alpha - 2015-05-27 06:23 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] modern_alpha - 2015-05-28 07:23 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] modern_alpha - 2015-05-29 06:29 (UTC) - Expand
pylades_drunk: (on account of his good humor)

[personal profile] pylades_drunk 2015-05-13 05:41 pm (UTC)(link)
"I hope I'm not bothering you," Grantaire says, when she opens the door. He rarely worries overly much about bothering anyone, but she doesn't know him quite well enough to just inflict himself on. "I'd heard about your brush with the supernatural and thought I'd come to see how you're recovering."

Jehan had told him, of course, and once he'd gotten past vampires? he'd made up his mind to go visit. They weren't great friends, yet, but Ophelia had been kind to him with no reason for it on a night it was welcome, and besides, anyone who makes his friends happy is welcome in Grantaire's life.

"I think you're supposed to bring flowers to the ill, but I know if I were told to rest I'd be more desperate for drawing paper." He holds up a couple books he'd found at the used bookstore: one that's just blank staff paper, and one that's apparently film themes for piano. "I heard you like music, so I thought this might be entertaining."
Edited 2015-05-13 18:01 (UTC)
pylades_drunk: (Default)

[personal profile] pylades_drunk 2015-05-17 12:43 am (UTC)(link)

"Thank you," he says, and smiles. "Likewise." He's probably supposed to, as a good friend to someone, be wary of her -- of his heart ending up broken in some way. But they both seem ridiculously fond of each other, and even if love is something Grantaire's increasingly unwilling to trust his own heart to, he can't bring himself to begrudge or suspect a happy couple right now.

And as much as Jehan can romanticize, he's also usually discerning. His trust of Ophelia makes R more interested in knowing her, on her own as well as as his friend's girlfriend.

He beams when her eyes light up, glad to please. "Of course," he handwaves. "Being stuck inside is tedious and you deserve some entertainment of the less-violent kind."

confidenceman: (do you feel me now)

[personal profile] confidenceman 2015-06-13 05:56 am (UTC)(link)
On the occasions that Sawyer becomes aware of his girls getting in trouble, there's nothing that he wants more than to stick his own neck out in their place. Ophelia isn't as much his girl as the other two, not because of any lack of sentiment so much as the fact that she was already mostly grown by the time they knew one another, but Sawyer still finds himself hovering after her nonetheless. Unlike the other two girls, he doesn't have the right to make her stay home, or return to an area that's safer. She's more or less free to wander off on her own.

And Darrow isn't safe enough to guarantee that every time will be unscathed.

He's debated about when he should visit her in the wake of her attack. He visited the hospital a couple of times, mostly when Ophelia was still asleep, but now he regrets not having made his concern more clear. Hopefully, he thinks to himself, the large bouquet of flowers he holds will be enough to tide her over.

"It's Sawyer," he says, loud enough for her to hear through the door.
confidenceman: (and maybe i could be your girl)

[personal profile] confidenceman 2015-06-15 12:49 am (UTC)(link)
"Hey, chère," Sawyer says with a breath of relief. Even though Ophelia certainly looks like she's seen better days, the fact that she's up and smiling is more than enough for him to have the confidence that she'll be fine again. She just needs more time to pass. Just needs more space to heal. And he fully intends on helping her the rest of the way.

"I thought I'd stop by to check up on you. Brighten your place. Offer to cook you some dinner, if you're hungry," he adds with a look that makes it clear that he fully intends to make sure that she has enough to eat. "It's a hell of a thing to be cooped up, but maybe watching someone stumble around cluelessly can make your day a lil' better."

He reaches out to ruffle her hair lightly as soon as she takes the bouquet. "How are you feeling?"

(no subject)

[personal profile] confidenceman - 2015-06-18 06:24 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] confidenceman - 2015-06-22 01:57 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] confidenceman - 2015-06-27 20:26 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] confidenceman - 2015-07-01 05:07 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] confidenceman - 2015-07-04 17:10 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] confidenceman - 2015-07-07 05:22 (UTC) - Expand