Post by hepzibah on Aug 19, 2006 23:00:42 GMT -5
Shrinking into the collar of her jacket, Hepzibah smiled to herself as she walked the streets, only a few minutes away from the conclusion of her journey home. It seemed that her search had finally yeilded a result - and it was even feasible now for her to experience hope. Earlier on in the piece she had not allowed herself to do so, for without such a vivid dream in her mind, failure would not seem quite such a bad thing. Without hope, some might say that all was lost - but others such as the irrefutable Benjamin Franklin, would say that one who lives on hope would die fasting. Now, though, as her hand closed around the small black card in her pocket, things didn't seem quite so futile - she had treated the search as a business transaction, and now it seemed that it would pay off. Now was when she would allow herself the hope for a brighter future, that she had their card in her hand. She was only a walk, and then a phone call away from realising whether it would, in fact, come to pass.
She mused in this way to herself for almost the entire journey, as she always did. Hepzibah was quite content in the fact that she could effectively communicate with herself via thought, summing up information that she had discovered during that particular day, or arguing the pro's and con's of a particular issue that she had decided might be interesting to discuss. Of course, her own mind wasn't any sort of substitute for another intelligent being that she might bounce off, but she hadn't met one of those (bar the City Librarian, who was more often than not more interested in sorting the day's magazines than having an intelligent conversation) in a long, long time. It was another thing that could possibly come of this. A friend.
Hepzibah pushed the squeaky door to her apartment block open, noting the lack of light around the exterior and remembering again why she liked the place. The fact that it was rather decrepit, and probably quite spooky to one who didn't have the confidence to be able to handle themselves, actually bode well for her existence. Her neighbours kept to themselves, as did she, and that was how she liked it. None of them ever saw her go out at night, either, and if they did each and every one of them was more than likely doing far more dodgy dealings than her, and so she was confident that she would not be discovered.
The stairs were climbed easily, the skunk-like woman bounding up them with just about no effort whatsoever. She entered her apartment, locking the door behind her, and immediately stripped off her coat. Throwing the garment at the couch, Hepzibah quickly set to work on unstrapping her tail from her body - the most uncomfortable part of going outside. Boots off, and the medical tape in the rubbish, she was on the couch, fumbling into the pockets of her jacket to find the business card.
"Magneto's Gone. His Dream Remains."
Hepzibah ran her eyes over the card again for at least the fifth time that evening. Taking a deep breath, she finalised the decision she had made just as many times, if not more.
"The Brotherhood. Take back what's yours."
Her mind now needing no further argument or persuasion, Zee reached for the phone. Dialing the number on the reverse of the card, she waited patiently for the ring.
It came promptly, and sounded a few times before switching to an answering machine. The message was short, concise, and didn't give anything away - if someone had happened to dial it by accident, then they would be none the wiser.
"My name is Hepzibah." She spoke into the receiver, her words clear and her voice unwavering. Following her name with her phone number, she hung up straight away.
She mused in this way to herself for almost the entire journey, as she always did. Hepzibah was quite content in the fact that she could effectively communicate with herself via thought, summing up information that she had discovered during that particular day, or arguing the pro's and con's of a particular issue that she had decided might be interesting to discuss. Of course, her own mind wasn't any sort of substitute for another intelligent being that she might bounce off, but she hadn't met one of those (bar the City Librarian, who was more often than not more interested in sorting the day's magazines than having an intelligent conversation) in a long, long time. It was another thing that could possibly come of this. A friend.
Hepzibah pushed the squeaky door to her apartment block open, noting the lack of light around the exterior and remembering again why she liked the place. The fact that it was rather decrepit, and probably quite spooky to one who didn't have the confidence to be able to handle themselves, actually bode well for her existence. Her neighbours kept to themselves, as did she, and that was how she liked it. None of them ever saw her go out at night, either, and if they did each and every one of them was more than likely doing far more dodgy dealings than her, and so she was confident that she would not be discovered.
The stairs were climbed easily, the skunk-like woman bounding up them with just about no effort whatsoever. She entered her apartment, locking the door behind her, and immediately stripped off her coat. Throwing the garment at the couch, Hepzibah quickly set to work on unstrapping her tail from her body - the most uncomfortable part of going outside. Boots off, and the medical tape in the rubbish, she was on the couch, fumbling into the pockets of her jacket to find the business card.
"Magneto's Gone. His Dream Remains."
Hepzibah ran her eyes over the card again for at least the fifth time that evening. Taking a deep breath, she finalised the decision she had made just as many times, if not more.
"The Brotherhood. Take back what's yours."
Her mind now needing no further argument or persuasion, Zee reached for the phone. Dialing the number on the reverse of the card, she waited patiently for the ring.
It came promptly, and sounded a few times before switching to an answering machine. The message was short, concise, and didn't give anything away - if someone had happened to dial it by accident, then they would be none the wiser.
"My name is Hepzibah." She spoke into the receiver, her words clear and her voice unwavering. Following her name with her phone number, she hung up straight away.