Participants:
| Scene Title | Vide Cor Meum |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | When one sticks their hand into the hive, any hive, you can't expect to not get bit or stung. Nothing short of not doing it, will protect you. So you do the second best. You get the bandages and salve ready, for when you pull your hand out. |
| Date | August 26, 2009 |
Fort Hero - Minea's Quarters
The protective strip was removed, revealing the sticky surface beneath. Slender fingers, scarr'd slightly, roughened from years of working with papers and guns, and the little things that leave it's permant etchings on your skin over time, the evidence of life and not still life press down on the yellow flap and effectivly seals it's contents.
It joined a few others, various names on them. Some bulging, others not.
Be Prepared.
Another fresh sheet of paper is drawn out of the stack of undisturbed white sheets. Waiting to be used, scribbled upon. To be the bearer of ink or carbon and to serve it's ultimate purpose. To carry a message of some sort. A sibling piece with scrawled numbers on them sits in a corner by itself in the pool of light cast on the desk. The rest of the apartment is dark and cool.
She is inspired. She is enlightened by one who has come before. With an uncertainty that one must face, you make plans.
She has always made plans.
And so she writes even as a chorus of voices, a male and female start singing softly in italian and latin, a bitter tune.
"Ego dominus tuus"
"Vide cor tuum"
"E d'esto core ardendo"
"Cor tuum"
"Umilmente pascea."
"Appresso gir lo ne vedea piangendo."
She uses an honest to god fountain pen instead of a ballpoint. A habit of trade and a concession to her own personal vainty and pride. A lost art to write in perfect script.
The music plays softly while the pen scratches. No need to dip into an ink pot, it's a cartridge bearing fountain pen. But it scratches none the less, catching at one point and leaving a dot in it's wake. The page is taken up, filled with words and then another finds it's place where the one now filled had been. Since coming back from the conversation in the church with Felix, things have crossed her mind.
One can't put their hand in the hive unprotected and come out with honey.
"La letizia si convertia"
"In amarissimo pianto"
"Io sono in pace"
"Cor meum"
"Io sono in pace"
"Vide cor meum"
Her name is signed, one of affection as opposed to proper. It's a personal letter. It too gets it's own envelope and sealed with other things.
Away from the desk she goes, turning off the light and plunging the room into total darkness even as the last of the song is spilling forth from the speakers. Her bed creaks as the woman eases down onto the side of the platform and then onto her back proper, staring up with unseeing eyes to the ceiling.
"Who are you all and what are you hiding"
It's whispered into the dark.