[ The ocean is more comforting to her than she ever realized. It was marred, for a time, by the nightmares used to be there. A shared and instinctual fear amongst all the Reanimates, a communal memory that one could see in any of their faces as they gazed down the alleyways and sloping streets towards where the water touched the city. Even still, its languid roll had created a sound in the dead of night, a gentle susurration that made the darkness less empty. Even still, the nightmares had made her feel something less than dead. Perhaps that was why they had offended Barbet the way they did. Or was it her crying. Her need for consolation.
She's taken up one of many apartment that faces the water; near to the boat. There is food in the cupboards, but the rest is bare except for where the wood soaked in her blood and left a stain, a large blot that runs out into the middle of the main room, illuminated at all times by whatever light comes in through the tall windows that face the sea. The rooms would not be so different from the vapid safety of the ward, if it were not for that. There is no scar left from the episode, the angel took it from her and there was an unexpected relief to that: to have a burden lessened. She feels no need to recreate the scar, there was nothing there to commemorate.
There is still nothing here to commemorate, and she can only spend so long staring at the floorboards before she loses faith again. There is a line between giving up and giving in, and she heads down to the water in bare feet, kicking off her jeans to make it easier to swim. It's getting darker earlier and earlier each day, visitors driven off the beach by the colder nights. It doesn't trouble her, and she wades out. She feels a brief spark of terror that does not drive her back up onto the sand, and then she strikes out. She's giving up for tonight. No more questions or uncertainties, she'll hide underwater and swim until she's tired, then she'll try to let the ship rock her to sleep. ]
or steps leading into the sea
She's taken up one of many apartment that faces the water; near to the boat. There is food in the cupboards, but the rest is bare except for where the wood soaked in her blood and left a stain, a large blot that runs out into the middle of the main room, illuminated at all times by whatever light comes in through the tall windows that face the sea. The rooms would not be so different from the vapid safety of the ward, if it were not for that. There is no scar left from the episode, the angel took it from her and there was an unexpected relief to that: to have a burden lessened. She feels no need to recreate the scar, there was nothing there to commemorate.
There is still nothing here to commemorate, and she can only spend so long staring at the floorboards before she loses faith again. There is a line between giving up and giving in, and she heads down to the water in bare feet, kicking off her jeans to make it easier to swim. It's getting darker earlier and earlier each day, visitors driven off the beach by the colder nights. It doesn't trouble her, and she wades out. She feels a brief spark of terror that does not drive her back up onto the sand, and then she strikes out. She's giving up for tonight. No more questions or uncertainties, she'll hide underwater and swim until she's tired, then she'll try to let the ship rock her to sleep. ]