Take a bow and wave...

[preytosociety]

Who: Lydia Martin, ANYBODY ELSE
What: Lydia has been following purple flower petals all around town. They eventually lead her to the library where she ends up hiding from a certain psychotic werewolf. Feel free to encounter her anywhere.
Where: Outside, in public buildings, maybe even in your house, and then at the library.
When: Days 37 and 38 (just let me know in the subject line)
Warnings: Disturbing imagery, mentally unstable teenagers, possible descriptions of graphic scenes, will update as needed

It doesn't make sense for her to be following. She should be running. See a flower, turn around, go the opposite way... but she keeps going. Her makeup is still flawless, her hair is still perfect, she's still Lydia Martin. Despite the scar he left, she's still herself and she wants him to know.

But something's off. She can't tell what it is, but it's something. All she knows is she has to find him before he finds her or the people she cares about. He won't touch Stiles again. He won't touch Kobra or Daneel.

And so Lydia roams around in a thin dress, a thin cardigan, and bare feet. The cold doesn't seem to be registering. The people around her barely enter her though process at all unless they get closer and start talking to her.

Eventually she finds the library... and she knows he's in there somewhere.

Comments

Day 38?

[thezerothlaw]

Daneel has been in the library for some time, searching for information and not finding what he needs, but he's alert and the sound of the door opening and the feel of a familiar mind breaks him away from what he was doing immediately.

"Lydia?"

There's any number of things he finds worrying, from the way she's dressed to her state of mind. He doesn't know where to begin.

38

[goodluckkobra]

Kobra's been kind of... rampaging on and off. He's breaking just about anything he can get his hands on and if he says he remembers everything, he's lying. Party is gone and he can't handle all the fucking anger. His hands are torn up and there's blood on his clothes.

When he sees Lydia, something in him snaps back into place, though.

"Lyds!" He jogs after her, forgetting the blood on his clothes and how messed up his hands look. "Lyds, wait up!"

37

[stiling]

Walks didn't clear his head, not really, but they were sure as hell better than just lingering around the house, waiting for someone to walk in on him crying.

It had been a long day, straight from the get-go with the pretty unspeakable trick of the eyes, dinner. Actual food, actual breakfast for dinner that his mother had made and he'd caught a whiff of it all in the air and in the kitchen, the dinner that had blinked itself out of existence the moment he'd dared to sit at the table. It was just little things, little things, little remembrances that stacked up and got into all five senses. Breakfasts and the smell of her clothes all up in his sinuses. He couldn't escape that one.

This was tough. This place was tough and the panic attack this morning had been just as much, left him gasping for air and missing his inhaler. Hence the walk. He didn't expect to see much of anyone along the way, with how cold it was, with everyone going nuts. He really didn't expect to see Lydia, and the sight of her was another shock to the senses. Whole other reason.

Wasn't she freezing? How was she out here in this?

"Lydia." He only calls her name after he wipes his eyes, brusque and quick, zips his coat up to his neck as if he might shake some of this cold. "Lydia, what're you- doing?"