IMDb Flu: Rae Seddon

[sunbaked_baker]

Rae hadn't felt great last night, but this morning she woke up to one of the worst headaches she can remember having. No, it wasn't just her head. Everything hurt. Like she slept crooked and poorly. Only worse, somehow. An achy, weak, exhausted feeling - even more exhausted than she usually is. It's miserable. Miserable and not to be put up with, she decides, especially when she needs to get to work paying off her tab before she heads home again. There is money to be made. So once she has had a shower and feels marginally human again, Sunshine heads downstairs for a pot of strong tea. Maybe the fragrant steam will help clear her sinuses, which seem to be giving her some trouble today, as well.

When she is going to be baking, Rae usually puts her hair up to keep it out of her way. But this morning, on a whim, she chooses to let it fall in loose waves so it might frame her face more attractively (despite her efforts, her eyes insisted on continuing to be red-rimmed and watery, and there was little blush could do to even out the pink of her flushed cheeks), and instead of a t-shirt and jeans, something about today required an actual skirt. Pity about the shoes. She wore what could only charitably be called the 'best' of the selection of comfy sneakers found in her room's closet.

Rae settles at the end of the couch with her tea, crossing one leg over the other and resting her too-warm forehead against her cool hand, and tries to focus on clearing the fog from her mind and the ache from her muscles. The warmth from the fire is very welcome.

Comments

[herr_bookman]

Autor has a new present today. Bar gave him a black backpack with all manner of zippers in a variety of colors. He's wearing it on his front and practically drooling as he zips and unzips the metal, coil, and plastic teeth of the different fasteners.

"Rae!" he calls, and bounds over the couch. "Bar gave me a present and it's the coolest thing and I've heard about zippers before but never messed with them and--oh, hey, are you okay?"

[sunbaked_baker]

Rae, who had been idly and confusedly wondering if she should check out the latest Cosmopolitan, is startled out of her thoughts by Autor's verve.

"They are really useful, but I don't know if I've ever seen anyone so enthusiastic about zippers before, Autor," she smiles rather weakly at him, still feeling somewhat like she'd been hit by a truck. "I'm a bit under the weather. Slept wrong, I think."

The woman waves a delicate hand, shooing away concern as unnecessary. "But don't worry, it will pass."

[herr_bookman]

"Well, they haven't been invented yet," Autor says cheerfully, waving a hand towards his grouping. "I mean, yes, they have, in 1913, last year, but they're not in wide use at all, and while I've seen them in use here on people's coats, I never did get to--oh, I'm sorry! Here I am rambling and you're in physical distress."

He flails a little helplessly, and then flags down a wait rat. "Would you like a rag for your head, Rae?"

[sunbaked_baker]

"And backpacks," Rae adds, with a slight smile and nods towards Autor's currently-worn-on-the-front pack.

"I appreciate that, Autor," she says, her smile disappearing as she is interrupted and forced to turn her head away for a brief bout of coughing. "It feels like I'm too cold and should get warm, but cool things feel really nice, right now."

[herr_bookman]

Autor slips his backpack off and sets it on the floor. "Backpacks, too, yes, though that won't be popularized as a word until next year, too," he says, grinning. "Oh, bless you, that sounds awful. How about I fetch you a light blanket as well?"

The rat arrives again, and Autor takes the rag to fold it into thirds. He offers it to Rae.

[sunbaked_baker]

Rae gladly takes the offered rag, but finds herself hesitant to put it on her forehead. What would it do to her makeup, after she'd worked so hard on it? Shaking her head slightly as though to clear it of the hesitation, Rae smiles and puts the cooling piece of folded cloth on her forehead and leans back against the couch cushions.

"That feels really nice, Autor," she murmurs. "A blanket? That... That might be good, too."

"Are you planning on using that backpack, or is it just for experimenting with zippers? It's got plenty zippers to choose from, at least."

[herr_bookman]

Autor orders a light blanket and tea from the rat first before patting his backpack. "I like the blue and white ones. But the red over here is metal, and that's interesting. I have no idea what I'll use the bag for, but I can always make use of a bag."

The rat returns with the tea and blanket, and Autor sets the beverage aside and drapes the blanket over Sunshine. "So are you sure you just slept wrong? That's a nasty cough. You are never sick, so what's going on?"

[sunbaked_baker]

"I've not been sick since I was little, except here..." she says, thinking on it as she thanks him and tucks in the blanket. "It might just be because I'm in Milliways - Dorian came in the other day with some bug he'd caught in London. I might have gotten it, which means you should stay away from me, Autor. Just in case."

[herr_bookman]

Autor picks up his tea and pulls up a chair, sitting close but not too close. "It might be Bar weird. One hopes whatever it is will move on quickly enough and leave you relatively unscathed."

He sips his drink. "Is here anything that I can do for you that doesn't involve getting too close?"

[capture_eternity]

Dorian waves to her from a few chairs away, with a copy of 'The Count of Monte Cristo' that he is reading.

[sunbaked_baker]

"Hey, you," Rae says with a faint smile, leaning against the couch-back cushions. She is contemplating the enticing idea of wrapping up in a warm blanket - even if it would look rather silly to passersby. The fireplace helps, but it is still a bit chilly in here.

"Feeling better?"

[capture_eternity]

"Completely fine," Dorian says. "It didn't stick; and that lovely silliness drove the bug right away. It loves misery, and I didn't give it any."

[sunbaked_baker]

"I'm glad you're in the clear," Rae says, and means it, though she is interrupted by a fit of dry coughing, forcing her to turn away for a few moments.

"It wasn't so kind, with me," she goes on, when the coughing has passed. "I gave it no misery to feed on, but apparently it decided to share some with me."

[capture_eternity]

"That is very, very mean of that bug," Dorian says. "I will have to ply you with more tea now and say silly things to try and drive it away."

[sunbaked_baker]

"It has been terribly generous with sharing its misery," Rae's smile, though heartfelt, is weak. "Some silliness sounds good, right about now."

[capture_eternity]

"I will have to read to you from this book," Dorian says. "It takes itself terribly serious; alas, I do not."

[sunbaked_baker]

"Well, if the book is going to sell its particularly convoluted and fantastic premise to its readers, it has to take itself seriously. If the narration believes it strongly enough, maybe it can convince the audience to, as well," Rae smiles a faintly knowing smile.

"The audience aside from people like you and me, I mean," she adds, quickly, grinning. "We know better. The book might as well not try."

[is_the_motion]

"You okay honey?" Bonnie asks, peering at her.

[sunbaked_baker]

"Feeling rather wretched, to be honest," Rae admits, carefully disposing of a tissue in a small trashcan near the end of the couch. "Think I've caught a bug of some sort. What about you, Bonnie? How have you been?"

[is_the_motion]

Bonnie orders her some soup.

"All right." she says. "I got my sister-in-law stayin' with me, she's good company. But we're makin' a trip to France at Spring Break and I'm gettin' a little nervous."

[sunbaked_baker]

Rae smiles a little at the order of soup, appreciative.

"To France? What for?" the baker asks, sipping her tea and unknowingly echoing her much younger self. "Vacation?"

[is_the_motion]

Bonnie has never been entirely sure the two Raes are the same person.

"My husband Bill was lost in the war just over a decade ago. They never found his body. I'm goin' to look fer him."

She looks down and adds.

"I ain't really grieved healthily over the years."

[sunbaked_baker]

"Oh... Oh, Bonnie," Rae says, softly. She reaches forward with her left hand to gently squeeze the woman's hand in sympathy. It is a common tragedy in war, but every wound of that kind is a separate ache in the heart. "I'm sorry that happened. I hope..."

Saying she hopes she finds him seems too cold, in a way. And hoping for the other outcome is just cruel.

"I hope you're able to grieve, and find closure," she continues. "Grieving... hurts, I know, worse than putting it off, but I can say it's better in the long run."

Sunshine has her own list of names from the Wars.

[is_the_motion]

Bonnie nods, understanding.

"Thank you." she says quietly. "When he first disappeared, I had four boys at home, I just kept busy. I never really accepted that he won't come back."

[sunbaked_baker]

"That's how it happens," Rae says quietly, nodding. "You find... distractions, covering the subject with other, more immediate things. Things to do, things to worry about, things needing to be taken care of."

Or you run away, you hide, you numb yourself until it doesn't hurt any more. Change yourself, your identity, find new roads, reinvent yourself into someone who doesn't have those wounds...

"I spent the last couple of years of the Wars high on whatever I could get my hands on. Just... pushing away the knowledge of the friends I had lost, worrying that if I actually let myself grieve, I would never stop."