Good Intentions Bring About Questions



Scene Title Good Intentions Bring About Questions.
Synopsis While doing a good deed, Abigail comes across something that may or may not be a bad thing.
Date November 20, 2010

Pollepel Island

The intention had been to do something nice for Howard. The lingering guilt that he had had to go through the whole ordeal of discharging the built up electricity when she had turned on her heat back at the dock had been a semi-constant reminder when she had settled down for the night in her sleeping bag, before her thoughts turned to Robert, wondering how he was taking the night, what he was doing. A half dozen prayers for his safety. Three dozen more wishes on a star that she could be there in bed beside him. Safe.

At some point that next day though, Howard had gone to take a shower, the jacket that he had had since birth left there since he couldn't get clean while showering in it. It wasn't left there long really, a note left in it's wake in case he came back for it before she was done with the Jacket. There were other things to mend but she had seen the holes on the inside of his jacket and felt that it was worthy of the sacrifice of a shirt.

It's not stolen, I took it to clean it, patch up the inside of it. As loved as this jacket it, the inside looks to have seen better days. Frankly, smells like it's seen better days. I'll have back within a few hours and it'll last you at least maybe ten more years if you're lucky.

It was out in the sunlight of the day that found Abigail with a pair of scissors, thread scavenged from her shirt to conserve what few sewing supplies would be on the island and a sewing needle. Nimble slender fingers that are used to the small tasks like this had pulled out the stitching at the bottom of the jacket, so she could fix it proper, trim the lining, add in the patches neat and tidy. Clearly this jacket had meaning and he hadn't been in a position it seems to take good care of it.

Or well. Repair it. If he'd had it since he was born then he had obviously taken good care of it or as good care of it that he could. He probably wasn't much of a sewer. Most men weren't.

It was while she was in the process of turning it out, mentally looking for where there needed a hole patch that something had fallen out of a pocket and dropped to the grass with a resounding thud. Abigail reached over, picking it up, turning it over and over in her palm, looking at it with some puzzlement then putting it to the side. It wasn't till she was halfway done and needed a break that she slid the sewing needle safe into the fabric to hold her place, taking up the item in question.

She had kept glancing to it, trying to figure out where she'd seen something like that before. Niggled in her mind, stayed niggling as her thumbs caressed it. Curiosity - Caliban had called her nosy - drove her to open it. It was only when she opened it, that she was confused but recognized it. Abigail closed the item quickly, sitting up, turning her face from one side to the other as if looking to see if anyone else was watching her. More confusion played pretty heavy on her face.

She'd seen this before, no stranger to the image of what she now had in her hand. She was unused to what it did. No. Couldn't be.

Could it? Was it? No. Couldn't be.

There was a way to find out. The brunette heaved herself up to her feet, taking off at good jog away from the castle, It wasn't till she was a good distance away then opened it again. Nothing. Not what she expected at least.

It wasn't until she put it down, that she looked up, sharply, dumbfounded. Looked back towards the castle.

"Howard… who on earth are you" She murmurs, snatching up the item, jogging back to the spot beneath the tree where she'd been sewing. It was shoved back into the pocket, almost as if it might burn her, cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment in truth. She hadn't intended that when she'd taken his jacket to fix it.

The rest of the job was rushed, stitches small and not as perfect but only someone else with skill would know. She wanted to get the jacket back, get everything back. Try not to think of what's in the pocket.

Try to figure out whether this was something that the council needed to know.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License