( They might have been sent together, but they arrive out of order. The wonders of the US postal service. She's headed out from an early morning call-back audition when she spots his envelope, half-covered in a magazine of coupons for a nearby grocery and two junk mail pieces. It must have come yesterday, and no mentioned it.
She picks it up and brings it with her, starting it as she juggling her purse, her coffee, and getting into a cab. It's shorter than she can remember. Short enough, she squints at that before reading it. Short enough, that even without comparison, she wonders if it's much shorter than his others.
Then, if she's doing it again. Talking too much when she writes to him. Allison reads it twice more in the cab while trying not to burn herself on her coffee or spill it. It ends up in her purse through her audition and the rest of that day.
It ends up in her purse, forgotten, that night, as it rolls straight from one more night spent up way too late with the girls, rolling straight into pre-dawn shooting for evening scenes, that turns into retakes on the pieces from the day before, and she's ready to fall into her bed when she gets home. Except that there's a card waiting on her bed: Luther's handwriting, but the wrong colored and shaped envelope.
She sits down, remembering the other letter in her purse -- not entirely forgotten, she'd seen getting her sunglasses, her wallet, a mirror, at different points in her busy days -- but remembering all over again she needs to pull it out, needs to answer it, as she's using her finger to rip through the sealed flap of this one.
She's smiling by the pale light of nightstand lamp, as she gets past the first words because it's a small, fast, weird slide. The not-quite roll of her eyes, without losing her smile, for reluctant superhero that slides into friend, and something of a snort at lady friend, as she wonders if it's possible he doesn't get that reference, and the other three that by the end make her laugh, before getting to his words.
Allison does take note of the smudge, but a cursory glance at the two words it's half over makes it an obvious mistake more than anything else. Because she's not Luther weakness. She's not arrogant enough to say she might fall under his regrets or mistakes, but if Luther has a main, single, one weakness it's not her. It's tied up in Academy, and saving the world, and their Dad. It always had been, and it'd been stupid of her to think she'd ever win against it. )
Dear Luther,
Where did you even find this? How did you get it? Also, thank you and -- Happy Birthday!
Twenty-one. How did we ever get here?
(Your mission if you choose to accept it, card thief, is that at some point this year, you are required to go get a drink that is not from Dad's Living Room Bar. You have to tell them it's your birthday, even if it isn't so that, even if you still get it for free, it's for the right reason, not merely because you are Spaceboy, and then, hopefully, they choose to give you something not boring.)
I had to look up the word 'amanuensis,' but now how will I ever find someone out here I can throw it at? No one uses words like that out here. They stare at you like you might have discovered a whole brand new language. This is going to sound so weird, but sometimes I feel like the only way to make it out here is to make sure you don't seem smarter than the person directing your day or cutting your paychecks.
I also need to know how someone is writing their anatomical specimen.
It's hard to imagine you sleeping in. In my mind, you're still up at dawn, exercising, trying to make as little racket as possible pass through the walls, and still failing. How often do you sleep in, and is this really sleeping in, like closer than halfway to noon, or is it just like, you let yourself have an extra hour?
I do travel, though I'm not entirely sure if it counts as more or less than we all did. It's not across the whole world, but there's still some travel. California is kind enough to have a plethora of beaches as options for sunny, lazy days, and we do take advantage of them often. There are any number of places that are just a bus ride north or south.
I was out to Disney in my first year, but haven't been back again, yet. Bea is advocating for this train ride that stops at all the vineyards through Napa to celebrate my birthday, but I don't quite have that much time open in the next week or two, so it's just floating out there as an option.
I don't usually get to do much touring out while traveling with the show, when we are somewhere else. We're pretty tightly managed to schedules when we are there. Maybe later, when I have a better foothold in everything, and I'm needed in places longer, and there might be small breaks to be able to see things, but not yet.
Allison
P.S. You should definitely propose your plan of worship, and we will respond with your acceptance or denial in due time. Possibly in smoke signals or falling stars. You will need to be diligent about keeping watch once you apply.
no subject
She picks it up and brings it with her, starting it as she juggling her purse, her coffee, and getting into a cab. It's shorter than she can remember. Short enough, she squints at that before reading it. Short enough, that even without comparison, she wonders if it's much shorter than his others.
Then, if she's doing it again. Talking too much when she writes to him. Allison reads it twice more in the cab while trying not to burn herself on her coffee or spill it. It ends up in her purse through her audition and the rest of that day.
It ends up in her purse, forgotten, that night, as it rolls straight from one more night spent up way too late with the girls, rolling straight into pre-dawn shooting for evening scenes, that turns into retakes on the pieces from the day before, and she's ready to fall into her bed when she gets home. Except that there's a card waiting on her bed: Luther's handwriting, but the wrong colored and shaped envelope.
She sits down, remembering the other letter in her purse -- not entirely forgotten, she'd seen getting her sunglasses, her wallet, a mirror, at different points in her busy days -- but remembering all over again she needs to pull it out, needs to answer it, as she's using her finger to rip through the sealed flap of this one.
She's smiling by the pale light of nightstand lamp, as she gets past the first words because it's a small, fast, weird slide. The not-quite roll of her eyes, without losing her smile, for reluctant superhero that slides into friend, and something of a snort at lady friend, as she wonders if it's possible he doesn't get that reference, and the other three that by the end make her laugh, before getting to his words.
Allison does take note of the smudge, but a cursory glance at the two words it's half over makes it an obvious mistake more than anything else. Because she's not Luther weakness. She's not arrogant enough to say she might fall under his regrets or mistakes, but if Luther has a main, single, one weakness it's not her. It's tied up in Academy, and saving the world, and their Dad. It always had been, and it'd been stupid of her to think she'd ever win against it. )
Where did you even find this? How did you get it?
Also, thank you and -- Happy Birthday!
Twenty-one. How did we ever get here?
(Your mission if you choose to accept it, card thief, is that at some point this year, you are required to go get a drink that is not from Dad's Living Room Bar. You have to tell them it's your birthday, even if it isn't so that, even if you still get it for free, it's for the right reason, not merely because you are Spaceboy, and then, hopefully, they choose to give you something not boring.)
I had to look up the word 'amanuensis,' but now how will I ever find someone out here I can throw it at? No one uses words like that out here. They stare at you like you might have discovered a whole brand new language. This is going to sound so weird, but sometimes I feel like the only way to make it out here is to make sure you don't seem smarter than the person directing your day or cutting your paychecks.
I also need to know how someone is writing their anatomical specimen.
It's hard to imagine you sleeping in. In my mind, you're still up at dawn, exercising, trying to make as little racket as possible pass through the walls, and still failing. How often do you sleep in, and is this really sleeping in, like closer than halfway to noon, or is it just like, you let yourself have an extra hour?
I do travel, though I'm not entirely sure if it counts as more or less than we all did. It's not across the whole world, but there's still some travel. California is kind enough to have a plethora of beaches as options for sunny, lazy days, and we do take advantage of them often. There are any number of places that are just a bus ride north or south.
I was out to Disney in my first year, but haven't been back again, yet. Bea is advocating for this train ride that stops at all the vineyards through Napa to celebrate my birthday, but I don't quite have that much time open in the next week or two, so it's just floating out there as an option.
I don't usually get to do much touring out while traveling with the show, when we are somewhere else. We're pretty tightly managed to schedules when we are there. Maybe later, when I have a better foothold in everything, and I'm needed in places longer, and there might be small breaks to be able to see things, but not yet.
Allison
P.S. You should definitely propose your plan of worship, and we will respond with your acceptance or denial in due time. Possibly in smoke signals or falling stars. You will need to be diligent about keeping watch once you apply.