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For so many nights, under any moon phase deemed remotely auspicious, Aggie has walked Darrow's Ley Line. It's something she's done plenty of times in the past but ever since June when she laid eyes on the Purge booth at Pride, she's done it with a dedication that brings her closer to feeling religious than she's felt in centuries. She'd thought that if she prepared enough, then she'd feel okay, feel safe. By now, the Ley Line is as fortified as she can make it; her animals are already at Greta's house with plenty of food and space; her power is as strong as ever; and yet...
She doesn't remember feeling this much dread the last time. Hell, last year, she'd been house-sitting, eating microwaved chicken nuggets, feeling a different kind of immortal. Feeling invulnerable. And maybe she is. With her powers, with her experiences of Darrow and her life before, Aggie knows all too well how much she can endure.
It's not because she doesn't have something to fight for either. Maybe her family looks different now than it did seven years ago, but she'd had plenty to protect then too.
All she knows is that, after weeks of telling herself she's as prepared as she can be, she's sitting on her porch after nailing boards over her windows, unable to quell the sick unease that roils in her stomach.
Left hand tapping nervously on her thigh, Aggie scrolls through her phone in the dying light, finding every number of every friend. All of them get texts. Many of them get a phone call. She hits dial, counts the rings, leaves a message if she can, but whenever someone picks up, she gets right to the point.
"Hey, how's it going. I'm, um. I just wanted to make sure you were all ready for...everything at the end of the month. Also, I ordered a couple pizzas for tonight if you're up for some company...?"
[[If you think Aggie would worry about your pup, feel free to tag in for a phone or in-person conversation (either she'll go to your pup or they can come to her house).]]
She doesn't remember feeling this much dread the last time. Hell, last year, she'd been house-sitting, eating microwaved chicken nuggets, feeling a different kind of immortal. Feeling invulnerable. And maybe she is. With her powers, with her experiences of Darrow and her life before, Aggie knows all too well how much she can endure.
It's not because she doesn't have something to fight for either. Maybe her family looks different now than it did seven years ago, but she'd had plenty to protect then too.
All she knows is that, after weeks of telling herself she's as prepared as she can be, she's sitting on her porch after nailing boards over her windows, unable to quell the sick unease that roils in her stomach.
Left hand tapping nervously on her thigh, Aggie scrolls through her phone in the dying light, finding every number of every friend. All of them get texts. Many of them get a phone call. She hits dial, counts the rings, leaves a message if she can, but whenever someone picks up, she gets right to the point.
"Hey, how's it going. I'm, um. I just wanted to make sure you were all ready for...everything at the end of the month. Also, I ordered a couple pizzas for tonight if you're up for some company...?"
[[If you think Aggie would worry about your pup, feel free to tag in for a phone or in-person conversation (either she'll go to your pup or they can come to her house).]]
