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Celine is a seer, which seems to encompass a wide rage of abilities. She's vaguely psychic, though she's never been able to work this skill into full-blown telepathy. She may pick up on ideas and feelings, but will never be fully inside another person's head. She can tell when someone is lying to her more easily than the average person, however.
She can also practise some form of hypnosis, allowing the other person to see visions of the past, present, and future. These visions are usually in quick flashes and abstract, and on the surface may not have anything to do with the person seeing them.
Celine is some sort of empath, but backwards. Rather than picking up on the emotions of others, she projects hers. Often the victim of this doesn't realise they're picking up on her emotions when they suddenly find themselves angry or upset. This is another aspect of her power she's not the best at controlling. If her emotions start to run too high, she loses control and starts to project those emotions on those around her. This does not work on everybody, and some characters with more psychopathic tendencies are shown to be completely immune to this ability. Ultimately, it will be up to you whether or not this power affects your pup. This is something she does passively, and rarely if ever deliberately.
In addition to all of this, Celine can commune with the dead and with other spirits around her. This is the aspect of her power she has the most control over. She can't physically conjure any spirits, but she can communicate with them.
She also practises various forms of witchcraft, and has a certain knack for casting and lifting curses and spells.
Edit: as of the most recent installment of canon, Celine is capable of conjuring pocket dimensions and locking people inside them. She has so far only done this once, when an as-yet-unknown force (possibly her ex-husband; possibly his demonically-possessed house) attempted to kill her and her twin brother. She locked both of them inside this dimension, keeping it in an infinite loop to keep her brother alive until she was able to orchestrate his possession of someone else's body.
Like everyone else from her world, Celine has saves and inventory space. She's likely to recognise various magic and supernatural beings, though she doesn't have a wide range of knowledge on the paranormal outside her own focus. Like other people from her world, she's a little tougher than most people, able to take more damage than someone from a baseline world. She can walk off injuries that might be seen as serious, and has a higher threshold for pain.
If you have any questions about these abilities, please leave a comment below or contact me via PM. Comments are screened.
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Sticky: Meta: World Information
May. 15th, 2019 10:29 pmCeline comes from an extremely meta canon, in which she has recently become a main character. She's a relatively new character in the series, only showing up since it grew a cohesive plot.
Originally, the canon started out as a series of meta sketches about horror games being real, with Wilford as a central character, reporting on the various monsters and goings on. This became the crux of my meta, before he became part of a greater continuity that dropped the game aspect and adopted its own meta. I've largely ignored the retcon that happened, except for its basic structure.
The base "game" in the meta verse I've established for Milliways is Grand Theft Auto, particularly GTA V. Los Santos is kind of in a flux state that uses the V and San Andreas maps, as well as a fan-made map that makes both more geographically and geologically cohesive. I use the maps as a backbone, treating them more as a basic guide than straight fact. Los Santos is more like Los Angeles, in that it's a sprawling hellscape that can take several hours to drive across, with hundreds of little boroughs making up the area. The area Wilford lives in is a blank spot on the GTA V map, somewhere up in the Vinewood Hills.
The day to day meta of the average person is based less on the main release, and more on the way RP servers work, with rules and protocol that make a little more logical, realistic sense, given the environment. Due to people having saves and resets, these laws are somewhat skewed, and police will often look the other way if a person who is fucking around isn't causing undue harm to others. Gangs run rampant, petty crime is normal, and getting run over and surprise stabbed is just a part of life.
The world itself is run on pixie magic. Saves first appeared in an ancient kingdom, where a hero was tasked with rescuing a lost princess. As the pixies could not interfere directly, they granted this hero the ability of extra life so he would be able to correct a path that the world should not have taken. Since then, countless generations later, it is simply how the world works. Other games and game tropes exist in the background, with monsters and mayhem just another part of life. Psychics, monster hunters, and exorcists are perfectly ordinary career paths. There's also a deep skepticism of the paranormal when it's used as an explanation for certain crimes or events, as it's seen as a convenient scapegoat. The police and other agencies will often outright reject the possibility of paranormal forces in what appear to be criminal cases unless all other avenues are exhausted.
People from this world run on typical video game mechanics. They have saves and inventory space, which can vary in size from person to person. Save logs are unique to each individual person. Journals and cell phones are common, but a person can use just about anything to access and manage their saves. Small children usually carry some form of immunity from needing saves, and traditionally kids don't start using saves until they're in high school. Some families may not present it as an option until their kids are out of high school. Saves are managed manually, although the presence of a nearby Public Respawn Point can override existing saves. This can be useful for people who are bad at logging their saves, as they won't have to re-live months just because they stepped off a curb wrong and fell in front of a truck. Nobody seems to know how Respawn Points happen, but it's generally accepted that it has something to do with the pixies. If no Respawn Points are available within a reasonable distance, and the death wasn't worthy of permanence, the person will wake up at the point they last logged a save.
Deaths are generally not worthy of permanence. It's become a cyclical process. Since people do not hold life as a fleeting thing, general attitudes tend toward more reckless behaviour. Because of this, people tend to get themselves killed in stupid ways far too often for any afterlife to keep up with. Deaths are only permanent when they are deemed 'good.' The process by which this is judged is unknown. Deaths which are unavoidable are Event Deaths. Event deaths are those which happen naturally, or where death would be the natural outcome of a series of events. Sometimes non-Event deaths are permanent, and can be avoided by another person opening a previous save and changing the course of action. Event deaths cannot be changed. No person can go back far enough to change the events. A changeable non-event death would be if someone is accidentally killed by another person, and that person opening a previous save and not taking the actions that led to the first person's death. An Event death are those where nothing could be done, or where the person who caused the death has no want or ability to go back to undo the action. Very rarely can an outside individual stop an Event.
There have been a number of temporary and permanent deaths in canon. Some have been temporary through apparent resets, while others were temporary through the use of magic. As of this point in canon, Wilford has had two confirmed deaths (much more, depending on how one of the Slenderman videos is interpreted). Celine has died once, possibly permanently.
Since most of the characters are played by a small group of actors, many of them have the same face. Wilford's PB also plays Mark and Damien, as well as countless side characters. Nichola's PB plays two unnamed characters who both seem to have very similar jobs. Celine's PB is also a makeup artist in another connected series, ironically playing against Mark, Celine's ex-husband in the main storyline. For the purposes of avoiding confusion and getting too meta, I'm choosing to ignoring the fact that three of the main characters look exactly the same. Since Mark and Damien are drawn to look differently in the 'Damien' short, I'm choosing to go with nobody sharing the same face in reality. For simplicity's sake, the District Attorney's imaginary PB for Millicanon is more or less modelled after the man who operated the camera (the character was never shown in any of the episodes, since his entire arc was filmed as the audience's perspective). The only exception to face twins are the Jims, who are canonically an army of news reporting clones.
A collection of the relevant pieces of canon can be found on Wilford's journal, in two separate playlists. Not included are characters who have so far not been included in the main continuity to a point that they impact the plot, though they do show up from time to time.
Originally, the canon started out as a series of meta sketches about horror games being real, with Wilford as a central character, reporting on the various monsters and goings on. This became the crux of my meta, before he became part of a greater continuity that dropped the game aspect and adopted its own meta. I've largely ignored the retcon that happened, except for its basic structure.
The base "game" in the meta verse I've established for Milliways is Grand Theft Auto, particularly GTA V. Los Santos is kind of in a flux state that uses the V and San Andreas maps, as well as a fan-made map that makes both more geographically and geologically cohesive. I use the maps as a backbone, treating them more as a basic guide than straight fact. Los Santos is more like Los Angeles, in that it's a sprawling hellscape that can take several hours to drive across, with hundreds of little boroughs making up the area. The area Wilford lives in is a blank spot on the GTA V map, somewhere up in the Vinewood Hills.
The day to day meta of the average person is based less on the main release, and more on the way RP servers work, with rules and protocol that make a little more logical, realistic sense, given the environment. Due to people having saves and resets, these laws are somewhat skewed, and police will often look the other way if a person who is fucking around isn't causing undue harm to others. Gangs run rampant, petty crime is normal, and getting run over and surprise stabbed is just a part of life.
The world itself is run on pixie magic. Saves first appeared in an ancient kingdom, where a hero was tasked with rescuing a lost princess. As the pixies could not interfere directly, they granted this hero the ability of extra life so he would be able to correct a path that the world should not have taken. Since then, countless generations later, it is simply how the world works. Other games and game tropes exist in the background, with monsters and mayhem just another part of life. Psychics, monster hunters, and exorcists are perfectly ordinary career paths. There's also a deep skepticism of the paranormal when it's used as an explanation for certain crimes or events, as it's seen as a convenient scapegoat. The police and other agencies will often outright reject the possibility of paranormal forces in what appear to be criminal cases unless all other avenues are exhausted.
People from this world run on typical video game mechanics. They have saves and inventory space, which can vary in size from person to person. Save logs are unique to each individual person. Journals and cell phones are common, but a person can use just about anything to access and manage their saves. Small children usually carry some form of immunity from needing saves, and traditionally kids don't start using saves until they're in high school. Some families may not present it as an option until their kids are out of high school. Saves are managed manually, although the presence of a nearby Public Respawn Point can override existing saves. This can be useful for people who are bad at logging their saves, as they won't have to re-live months just because they stepped off a curb wrong and fell in front of a truck. Nobody seems to know how Respawn Points happen, but it's generally accepted that it has something to do with the pixies. If no Respawn Points are available within a reasonable distance, and the death wasn't worthy of permanence, the person will wake up at the point they last logged a save.
Deaths are generally not worthy of permanence. It's become a cyclical process. Since people do not hold life as a fleeting thing, general attitudes tend toward more reckless behaviour. Because of this, people tend to get themselves killed in stupid ways far too often for any afterlife to keep up with. Deaths are only permanent when they are deemed 'good.' The process by which this is judged is unknown. Deaths which are unavoidable are Event Deaths. Event deaths are those which happen naturally, or where death would be the natural outcome of a series of events. Sometimes non-Event deaths are permanent, and can be avoided by another person opening a previous save and changing the course of action. Event deaths cannot be changed. No person can go back far enough to change the events. A changeable non-event death would be if someone is accidentally killed by another person, and that person opening a previous save and not taking the actions that led to the first person's death. An Event death are those where nothing could be done, or where the person who caused the death has no want or ability to go back to undo the action. Very rarely can an outside individual stop an Event.
There have been a number of temporary and permanent deaths in canon. Some have been temporary through apparent resets, while others were temporary through the use of magic. As of this point in canon, Wilford has had two confirmed deaths (much more, depending on how one of the Slenderman videos is interpreted). Celine has died once, possibly permanently.
Since most of the characters are played by a small group of actors, many of them have the same face. Wilford's PB also plays Mark and Damien, as well as countless side characters. Nichola's PB plays two unnamed characters who both seem to have very similar jobs. Celine's PB is also a makeup artist in another connected series, ironically playing against Mark, Celine's ex-husband in the main storyline. For the purposes of avoiding confusion and getting too meta, I'm choosing to ignoring the fact that three of the main characters look exactly the same. Since Mark and Damien are drawn to look differently in the 'Damien' short, I'm choosing to go with nobody sharing the same face in reality. For simplicity's sake, the District Attorney's imaginary PB for Millicanon is more or less modelled after the man who operated the camera (the character was never shown in any of the episodes, since his entire arc was filmed as the audience's perspective). The only exception to face twins are the Jims, who are canonically an army of news reporting clones.
A collection of the relevant pieces of canon can be found on Wilford's journal, in two separate playlists. Not included are characters who have so far not been included in the main continuity to a point that they impact the plot, though they do show up from time to time.
Because he’s an asshole, Damien
Jun. 4th, 2019 03:12 pmOne of the unexpected benefits of getting out of Banham Canyon was being closer to the majority of her clients. The drive from the hills was still a hike to some of them, but a few were close enough now to be generously considered ‘in the neighbourhood.’ The few short runs back and forth had already spoiled Celine. It wasn’t until a trip to Morningwood that she realised the situation with her gas tank. In trying to save as much cash as possible until she got back on her feet, she hadn’t been taking care of some of the more important necessities.
She wouldn’t make it to Morningwood without stopping, so she pulled into the first station she found along the way. Waiting in line at the pump burned up even more fuel she couldn’t afford to lose, and by the time it was her turn, she felt like she was going to run dry right there on the pavement. But she’d made it, without much time to spare to get to her session.
When she fed the pump her bank card and punched in her PIN, it beeped angrily at her. She pulled it out and scrubbed the chip with her thumb and tried again. Again, it beeped. She didn’t want to try the card from the joint account, but if hers was dry, she didn’t have much choice. She tried it anway, and was once more answered with an angry beep.
“Fuck,” she hissed, shoving it back into her wallet and digging out her credit card. She knew it was already maxed out, but maybe she’d get lucky and have a few extra dollars left on it. But when the machine tested the card, it too came back declined.
Celine growled wordlessly as she shoved the card and wallet back into her handbag and pulled out her phone, quickly scrolling through the contacts for Mark’s number. The bastard had cancelled her cards, and she had a desperate need to swear and shout loudly at him. One of the accounts wasn’t even his. It was her money from her job, and he’d cancelled it anyway. She called him, and instead of ringing, she was greeted with a robot recording informing her that she was only able to make emergency calls from her device.
Mark probably had not intended for her to be stuck at a gas pump in Ganton when she found out what he’d done, but that’s exactly how she found herself. Rather than blocking the pump for the growing line behind her, Celine got back into her Banshee and moved it to park in front of the building. She locked her car up and walked around the sides of the building to find a pay phone. There was a small bank of them along the side of the building, and most of them looked like they worked. Celine dug through her handbag for change, scraping up every last coin she could find for the $1.50 fee. In the end, she was 20¢ short. Swearing loudly, she dropped the coins back into her bag. Picking up the receiver, she slammed her finger into the 0 button and waited for the prompts. She dialled Will’s number and waited for the next prompt. Instead, she was greeted with a statement that he did not accept collect calls to his number.
“Goddamnit it!” she shouted, slamming the receiver down. When she looked up again, she found two men standing at the far corner of the building, staring at her. Not wanting to deal with that right now, she picked up the receiver again and pressed 0 once more. This time, she called Damien. He at least accepted collect calls, probably only because he never set his phone up not to.
“Celine, what’s going on?” he answered.
Celine wanted to scream, but it wouldn’t have helped at that moment. “I’m stranded out in Ganton and Mark cancelled my cards and my phone,” she said.
“He what?” Damien asked. “Why did he do that?”
“Because he’s an asshole, Damien,” Celine said. “I need you to help me. Can you get out here, or send somebody, please?”
She hated having to ask him for anything after the way he spoke to her last time, but she didn’t have many options.
“I’m not really available right now,” Damien said slowly. “I’m in Vespucci.”
“What? Why?” Celine asked. “Can you send someone?”
Damien didn’t respond right away. “Uh. No? I mean, can you sit tight for about an hour?”
“No, Damien!” Celine shouted. “I’m at a gas station, and I’ve got an appointment with a client I’m already going to be late for!”
The men at the corner were still looking at her. She was getting too angry. That was becoming an unwanted theme lately, so she took a deep breath and tried not to feel like Damien was being deliberately useless.
“Can’t you reschedule?” he asked.
“I’m not collecting calling my clients, Damien.” Why was he so useless sometimes? Celine shook her head, trying to steady herself. “If you’re not going to help me, then call Will. I’m at the LTD on Telegraph.”
“What are you doing out there?” Damien asked.
“Just call him, please,” Celine said.
She hung up, because talking to him much longer was going to make her scream. Trying to ignore the men at the corner, Celine walked back to her car and got in. She wouldn’t be able to stay there long though, as it baked in the sun. But for now, she could at least feel somewhat isolated from everything else. She took the opportunity to dig through cup holders and under the seats for any spare change she might find, but all she found were stray coffee receipts and an empty condom wrapper.
Now, she did scream. Mark sleeping around with every extra and intern in the city hadn’t exactly been a secret, but he had used her car to do it. Worse, she didn’t even know when. He used her car from time to time when the Hummer was too much vehicle to take somewhere, but she had thought he was at least somewhat sensible. Apparently that was too much to ask for.
With that burst of hopeless rage out of the way, Celine tried to breathe again. She had spent so much time keeping herself from feeling anything at all to keep Mark from picking up on anything he could use against her, that now with him gone it was like a gate had been opened and she couldn’t close it. Everything she’d been keeping bottled up for months and months was unstoppable. But this was not the place to have a complete meltdown. She needed to control herself better than that, or something very regrettable would happen.
Celine got out of her car again and walked into the shop. She had $1.30 to her name, which was enough for a couple cups of cheap gas station tea. She walked straight to the coffee counter and filled a paper cup with hot water and grabbed one of the single-wrapped tea bags from a bowl. After she put her cup together, she took it up to the counter and counted out 50¢ from the bottom of her handbag.
“Do you have public wifi?” she asked.
The cashier shook his head. “Sorry. They don’t even give us the password.”
She sighed quietly. “I’m stranded. Can I bounce off you for a few seconds to check something.”
The cashier gave her a look that seemed genuinely apologetic. He pulled out his phone, which had the cheap, plasticy design of a pre-paid device. “Sorry,” he said.
Celine nodded. “Thank you anyway,” she said, taking her tea back outside.
She sat in the car with the door open so she didn’t suffocate, and tried to just breathe and focus on her drink. It was too hot for tea, but she had her work bag with her in the passenger seat. Putting her tea in the cup holder, she dug through the bag and pulled out a small plastic jar of dried lemon balm. It wasn’t the ideal situation, but she tipped some of the herb into her cup and let it sit for a while to steep.
Drinking un-strained tea was not something she particularly enjoyed doing, but it was better than nothing. She slowly sipped her drink, making it last as long as possible before it got cold. If she focused on that, she might not be a complete wreck by the time Will showed up to help. She didn’t even know if Damien had called anyone, or if he was continuing to be the world’s most unhelpful brother. But she didn’t want to call him back right away. She waited until she finished her tea to get out of the car again and go back to the phones. This time when she dialled the number and gave her name, his phone rang and rang and rang. She thought it might go to voice mail, but finally he picked up.
“Did you call him?” she asked before he could say anything.
“He’s not there yet?” Damien asked.
Celine took a deep breath before she spoke. “Would I be calling you if he were?” she asked.
“Oh. No, I guess not. He’s probably on his way,” Damien said.
Celine sighed, trying very hard not to be angry with Damien. It was the middle of the day, with a half hour between Ganton and Vinewood on a good day. With afternoon traffic, she could be waiting for hours. She knew this, and had to accept this fact. There was nothing she or anyone else could do about that.
“All right,” she said. “Thank you for calling him. I’ll be waiting here, I guess.”
She hung up again and stayed by the phone for a few minutes before going back inside. Spending another 50¢, she picked up a second cup of tea and took it out to her car again. With another generous scoop of lemon balm in her tea, she sipped on it and waited. It was far too hot for tea, and her car was quickly becoming an oven, but she didn’t want to risk even driving it around the building to find some shade to park in, in case that’s all it took to empty her tank completely. Twice, she picked up her phone out of habit, both times feeling stupid with herself for forgetting that it didn’t work. Twice, she threw the phone into the passenger seat, angry all over again. If she had ever doubted that Mark didn’t love her, now she knew for sure that this was the truth. She wondered if he had ever even loved her, or if she might have just convinced him that he did. It was an awful, terrible thought that she couldn’t push away. The idea that she had been the instrument to her own despair was a crushing, suffocating thought that threatened to consume her. If it had all been her fault, from the very beginning, how could she possibly be in the right about anything?
Did it even matter that he had already been divorced once before? That he had children he never spoke to, and Celine had never met? Was his treatment of her a pattern of behaviour, or had he simply picked up on everything Celine had ever felt? Was she to blame for all of it?
She couldn’t think like that. She picked up her phone once more to check the time. She was already late. By the time she’d manage to get out to Morningwood, the time slot would have come and gone. It wasn’t the most professional day of her life, but what else could she have done?
With her second cup of tea gone, she began to grow worried. Had Damien even called like he’d said he had? Or was he being even more unhelpful than he’d been letting on? She thought she might have to call him back, but if he was going to continue to be unhelpful, what good would calling a third time do?
When a blue SUV pulled up next to her, Celine didn’t immediately recognise it. She’d been looking out for Will’s Oracle, but of course he’d be busy in the middle of the day as well. Sending someone else out was the logical and obvious solution. Billy got out of his car and walked over to Celine as she opened her door.
“Thank you, so much,” she said. Already, it was like an anvil had been lifted from her chest. “Can I use your phone, please?”
Billy nodded and pulled it from his pocket. “Yeah, sure. Here, give me your keys and I’ll get you sorted out.”
Celine got out of the car and gave Billy her keys while she walked into some shade. She watched him take her car over to the pump, and copied a number from her phone to Billy’s. At this point, she couldn’t even do the session. She might have been able to get there in a reasonable amount of time, but she was so angry and upset and exhausted that all she could do was cancel and go home.
Not home. To Will’s house. He was letting her stay there, but it wasn’t her home. She was an invader, even if he was gracious about it. He was such a solitary man that just being there sometimes made her feel like she was in the way.
By the time she finished cancelling her session, Billy was done with her car and brought it back to her parking spot.
“Can I bounce off of you for a few minutes?” she asked, handing him his phone back. “He cancelled so many other things, I need to know if I’ve even still got insurance.”
“Shit, yeah,” Billy said.
He tapped at his phone a few times and tilted the screen for her to see the hot spot password. With Billy’s wifi, Celine pulled up her insurance app. She was still able to log in, so he hadn’t cancelled everything outright, but her policy was not present.
“Fuck,” she hissed, locking the phone. Should she get a tow? She couldn’t afford one. “Are you too busy to follow me back to Will’s?”
Billy shook his head. “He cancelled that too?” he asked.
Celine nodded. She wanted to scream and cry and make a lot of noise, but she forced herself to press all of that down. These things could be fixed, and would be. It was all temporary. “I need to find out what else he cancelled.”
“Yeah, let’s go. You okay to drive?” Billy asked.
Celine nodded and opened her car door. “I’m fine,” she said. “I mean, I’m not fine, but I’m fine.”
She watched Billy’s face, hoping that she wouldn’t see any signs of crushing despair. But he only nodded and walked around to get into his car. At least someone was on her side.
She wouldn’t make it to Morningwood without stopping, so she pulled into the first station she found along the way. Waiting in line at the pump burned up even more fuel she couldn’t afford to lose, and by the time it was her turn, she felt like she was going to run dry right there on the pavement. But she’d made it, without much time to spare to get to her session.
When she fed the pump her bank card and punched in her PIN, it beeped angrily at her. She pulled it out and scrubbed the chip with her thumb and tried again. Again, it beeped. She didn’t want to try the card from the joint account, but if hers was dry, she didn’t have much choice. She tried it anway, and was once more answered with an angry beep.
“Fuck,” she hissed, shoving it back into her wallet and digging out her credit card. She knew it was already maxed out, but maybe she’d get lucky and have a few extra dollars left on it. But when the machine tested the card, it too came back declined.
Celine growled wordlessly as she shoved the card and wallet back into her handbag and pulled out her phone, quickly scrolling through the contacts for Mark’s number. The bastard had cancelled her cards, and she had a desperate need to swear and shout loudly at him. One of the accounts wasn’t even his. It was her money from her job, and he’d cancelled it anyway. She called him, and instead of ringing, she was greeted with a robot recording informing her that she was only able to make emergency calls from her device.
Mark probably had not intended for her to be stuck at a gas pump in Ganton when she found out what he’d done, but that’s exactly how she found herself. Rather than blocking the pump for the growing line behind her, Celine got back into her Banshee and moved it to park in front of the building. She locked her car up and walked around the sides of the building to find a pay phone. There was a small bank of them along the side of the building, and most of them looked like they worked. Celine dug through her handbag for change, scraping up every last coin she could find for the $1.50 fee. In the end, she was 20¢ short. Swearing loudly, she dropped the coins back into her bag. Picking up the receiver, she slammed her finger into the 0 button and waited for the prompts. She dialled Will’s number and waited for the next prompt. Instead, she was greeted with a statement that he did not accept collect calls to his number.
“Goddamnit it!” she shouted, slamming the receiver down. When she looked up again, she found two men standing at the far corner of the building, staring at her. Not wanting to deal with that right now, she picked up the receiver again and pressed 0 once more. This time, she called Damien. He at least accepted collect calls, probably only because he never set his phone up not to.
“Celine, what’s going on?” he answered.
Celine wanted to scream, but it wouldn’t have helped at that moment. “I’m stranded out in Ganton and Mark cancelled my cards and my phone,” she said.
“He what?” Damien asked. “Why did he do that?”
“Because he’s an asshole, Damien,” Celine said. “I need you to help me. Can you get out here, or send somebody, please?”
She hated having to ask him for anything after the way he spoke to her last time, but she didn’t have many options.
“I’m not really available right now,” Damien said slowly. “I’m in Vespucci.”
“What? Why?” Celine asked. “Can you send someone?”
Damien didn’t respond right away. “Uh. No? I mean, can you sit tight for about an hour?”
“No, Damien!” Celine shouted. “I’m at a gas station, and I’ve got an appointment with a client I’m already going to be late for!”
The men at the corner were still looking at her. She was getting too angry. That was becoming an unwanted theme lately, so she took a deep breath and tried not to feel like Damien was being deliberately useless.
“Can’t you reschedule?” he asked.
“I’m not collecting calling my clients, Damien.” Why was he so useless sometimes? Celine shook her head, trying to steady herself. “If you’re not going to help me, then call Will. I’m at the LTD on Telegraph.”
“What are you doing out there?” Damien asked.
“Just call him, please,” Celine said.
She hung up, because talking to him much longer was going to make her scream. Trying to ignore the men at the corner, Celine walked back to her car and got in. She wouldn’t be able to stay there long though, as it baked in the sun. But for now, she could at least feel somewhat isolated from everything else. She took the opportunity to dig through cup holders and under the seats for any spare change she might find, but all she found were stray coffee receipts and an empty condom wrapper.
Now, she did scream. Mark sleeping around with every extra and intern in the city hadn’t exactly been a secret, but he had used her car to do it. Worse, she didn’t even know when. He used her car from time to time when the Hummer was too much vehicle to take somewhere, but she had thought he was at least somewhat sensible. Apparently that was too much to ask for.
With that burst of hopeless rage out of the way, Celine tried to breathe again. She had spent so much time keeping herself from feeling anything at all to keep Mark from picking up on anything he could use against her, that now with him gone it was like a gate had been opened and she couldn’t close it. Everything she’d been keeping bottled up for months and months was unstoppable. But this was not the place to have a complete meltdown. She needed to control herself better than that, or something very regrettable would happen.
Celine got out of her car again and walked into the shop. She had $1.30 to her name, which was enough for a couple cups of cheap gas station tea. She walked straight to the coffee counter and filled a paper cup with hot water and grabbed one of the single-wrapped tea bags from a bowl. After she put her cup together, she took it up to the counter and counted out 50¢ from the bottom of her handbag.
“Do you have public wifi?” she asked.
The cashier shook his head. “Sorry. They don’t even give us the password.”
She sighed quietly. “I’m stranded. Can I bounce off you for a few seconds to check something.”
The cashier gave her a look that seemed genuinely apologetic. He pulled out his phone, which had the cheap, plasticy design of a pre-paid device. “Sorry,” he said.
Celine nodded. “Thank you anyway,” she said, taking her tea back outside.
She sat in the car with the door open so she didn’t suffocate, and tried to just breathe and focus on her drink. It was too hot for tea, but she had her work bag with her in the passenger seat. Putting her tea in the cup holder, she dug through the bag and pulled out a small plastic jar of dried lemon balm. It wasn’t the ideal situation, but she tipped some of the herb into her cup and let it sit for a while to steep.
Drinking un-strained tea was not something she particularly enjoyed doing, but it was better than nothing. She slowly sipped her drink, making it last as long as possible before it got cold. If she focused on that, she might not be a complete wreck by the time Will showed up to help. She didn’t even know if Damien had called anyone, or if he was continuing to be the world’s most unhelpful brother. But she didn’t want to call him back right away. She waited until she finished her tea to get out of the car again and go back to the phones. This time when she dialled the number and gave her name, his phone rang and rang and rang. She thought it might go to voice mail, but finally he picked up.
“Did you call him?” she asked before he could say anything.
“He’s not there yet?” Damien asked.
Celine took a deep breath before she spoke. “Would I be calling you if he were?” she asked.
“Oh. No, I guess not. He’s probably on his way,” Damien said.
Celine sighed, trying very hard not to be angry with Damien. It was the middle of the day, with a half hour between Ganton and Vinewood on a good day. With afternoon traffic, she could be waiting for hours. She knew this, and had to accept this fact. There was nothing she or anyone else could do about that.
“All right,” she said. “Thank you for calling him. I’ll be waiting here, I guess.”
She hung up again and stayed by the phone for a few minutes before going back inside. Spending another 50¢, she picked up a second cup of tea and took it out to her car again. With another generous scoop of lemon balm in her tea, she sipped on it and waited. It was far too hot for tea, and her car was quickly becoming an oven, but she didn’t want to risk even driving it around the building to find some shade to park in, in case that’s all it took to empty her tank completely. Twice, she picked up her phone out of habit, both times feeling stupid with herself for forgetting that it didn’t work. Twice, she threw the phone into the passenger seat, angry all over again. If she had ever doubted that Mark didn’t love her, now she knew for sure that this was the truth. She wondered if he had ever even loved her, or if she might have just convinced him that he did. It was an awful, terrible thought that she couldn’t push away. The idea that she had been the instrument to her own despair was a crushing, suffocating thought that threatened to consume her. If it had all been her fault, from the very beginning, how could she possibly be in the right about anything?
Did it even matter that he had already been divorced once before? That he had children he never spoke to, and Celine had never met? Was his treatment of her a pattern of behaviour, or had he simply picked up on everything Celine had ever felt? Was she to blame for all of it?
She couldn’t think like that. She picked up her phone once more to check the time. She was already late. By the time she’d manage to get out to Morningwood, the time slot would have come and gone. It wasn’t the most professional day of her life, but what else could she have done?
With her second cup of tea gone, she began to grow worried. Had Damien even called like he’d said he had? Or was he being even more unhelpful than he’d been letting on? She thought she might have to call him back, but if he was going to continue to be unhelpful, what good would calling a third time do?
When a blue SUV pulled up next to her, Celine didn’t immediately recognise it. She’d been looking out for Will’s Oracle, but of course he’d be busy in the middle of the day as well. Sending someone else out was the logical and obvious solution. Billy got out of his car and walked over to Celine as she opened her door.
“Thank you, so much,” she said. Already, it was like an anvil had been lifted from her chest. “Can I use your phone, please?”
Billy nodded and pulled it from his pocket. “Yeah, sure. Here, give me your keys and I’ll get you sorted out.”
Celine got out of the car and gave Billy her keys while she walked into some shade. She watched him take her car over to the pump, and copied a number from her phone to Billy’s. At this point, she couldn’t even do the session. She might have been able to get there in a reasonable amount of time, but she was so angry and upset and exhausted that all she could do was cancel and go home.
Not home. To Will’s house. He was letting her stay there, but it wasn’t her home. She was an invader, even if he was gracious about it. He was such a solitary man that just being there sometimes made her feel like she was in the way.
By the time she finished cancelling her session, Billy was done with her car and brought it back to her parking spot.
“Can I bounce off of you for a few minutes?” she asked, handing him his phone back. “He cancelled so many other things, I need to know if I’ve even still got insurance.”
“Shit, yeah,” Billy said.
He tapped at his phone a few times and tilted the screen for her to see the hot spot password. With Billy’s wifi, Celine pulled up her insurance app. She was still able to log in, so he hadn’t cancelled everything outright, but her policy was not present.
“Fuck,” she hissed, locking the phone. Should she get a tow? She couldn’t afford one. “Are you too busy to follow me back to Will’s?”
Billy shook his head. “He cancelled that too?” he asked.
Celine nodded. She wanted to scream and cry and make a lot of noise, but she forced herself to press all of that down. These things could be fixed, and would be. It was all temporary. “I need to find out what else he cancelled.”
“Yeah, let’s go. You okay to drive?” Billy asked.
Celine nodded and opened her car door. “I’m fine,” she said. “I mean, I’m not fine, but I’m fine.”
She watched Billy’s face, hoping that she wouldn’t see any signs of crushing despair. But he only nodded and walked around to get into his car. At least someone was on her side.
(no subject)
May. 26th, 2019 09:34 pmThe house was always quiet. More quiet than Celine felt like it should be, and she never knew why. She’d never liked the house, but Mark refused to sell it. She thought that was where their problems had started.
She hated this game that her life had become. She hated sneaking around in the open. It wasn’t even a secret anymore. Mark knew what was going on, even if he didn’t yet know with whom. She was going to wait until she served him the papers before she told him that. But the lawyer needed more time. He needed to comb through the pre-nup to make sure they had everything rock steady before they went forward. He’d assured her it was void anyway, but just in case the judge could be bought off, he needed to be ready.
Mark was gone, but she didn’t know for how long. Not that they ever said more than two words to one another. Which was the entire reason she was leaving.
She wasn’t going to leave for a day at a time anymore. She was leaving for good. She’d come back as she needed to, but she no longer lived in that house. First, she changed into something she hadn’t been wearing for two days, and began to throw everything else onto the bed. She wouldn’t take it all - couldn’t; it wouldn’t all fit into her car - but she could pick out the best stuff. Her favourite skirts and dresses, a handful of underwear, the tops that looked the newest. Those, she tossed into a suitcase. She grabbed all of her jewellery, pouring it almost carelessly into the same box, and tossed that in as well. Makeup, she could buy new. She already had some she kept at Wilford’s place anyway. That would get her by until she could find time to go shopping.
Her wedding ring, she took off, and put on the dresser. Mark could do with it as he wished.
It was all easier than she thought. She’d take the case down to the car, and come back to clear out her reading room. After that, she’d be gone for good.
It almost worked. But she wasn’t expecting to open the bedroom door and find Mark standing in the hall, waiting.
“Mark, get out of my way,” she said, trying to push past him.
Mark pushed himself more into her way, trapping her in the bedroom. “That’s it then?” he asked, his voice low and quiet. “You think you can just walk out on me?”
“Mark, get out of my way,” Celine repeated, trying to keep herself calm and level. She could not give him anything he could throw back at her. “This marriage is over, and it has been for a very long time.”
Celine didn’t need to give Mark anything. He was already furious with the entire sorry situation, and she could see it. He grabbed the suitcase from her hand and threw it over the edge and into the foyer below. “What’s he giving you that I’m not?” he demanded, stepping closer into her space and forcing her to step back into the bedroom. He saw the mess she’d left in there, clothes tossed everywhere and the dressers all tossed.
“Mark,” Celine said, focusing more on keeping herself calm than trying to do anything that might convince him to get out of the way.
Mark’s face turned red, his mouth set in a hard frown. Before Celine could react, he pulled his hand back and backhanded her, hard across the face. Celine yelped in shock, and glared at him. She was more angry than she had ever been in her life. She was more than just angry. She hated him. And she couldn’t hold it in any longer. It all came surging out so hard it sent a shockwave through the room, staggering Mark on his feet.
“Get out of my fucking way,” she said darkly.
Mark might have been picking up what she had let out, but his own fear won out. He quickly stepped out of the way, letting Celine pass. She stormed down the stairs and to the foyer, picking up her suitcase as she went. She left it by her car and headed back inside to clear out what she needed from her reading room. Her spirit board, her favourite tarot deck, various stones and crystals. She grabbed every book from her shelf, and decided she could come back for the rest, or buy new later. She upended a basket that held various table runners and reading cloths, and put everything she intended to take with her in it. It was a tight fit, and the basket wound up too heavy for her to lift. She thought about just leaving it, but she walked out of the room and across the house instead. Chef turned around sharply when she entered the kitchen, lowering his stance when he saw who it was.
“Uh. Miss Celine,” he said, giving her what he probably thought was a sweet smile. “Do you need something?”
“Chef, there is a basket on the table in my reading room. Could you please go put it in the front seat of my car?” she asked.
She didn’t like the way Chef looked at her, silent for too long of a moment before he nodded. “Of course.”
Chef was the only thing about that entire house she’d miss. She stepped aside to let him pass and picked up the empty serving tray he had on the counter. Her reflection was distorted, but not so badly that she couldn’t see the redness rising on the left side of her face. She touched her face, just under her eye on an especially red patch, and found that Mark’s ring had left a small cut. Celine dropped the tray down onto the counter angrily and started to walk out to her car, meeting Chef along the way.
“I’ll probably be back in a few weeks for the rest of my stuff,” she said, opening the passenger door for him.
“This new guy,” Chef said as he put the basket on the floor. “Is he decent?”
Celine picked up her suitcase and handed it to Chef. “You didn’t seem to think so,” she said.
Chef gave her a concerned look, but said no more as he settled her suitcase into the front seat.
“Thank you,” Celine said, walking around the car.
“I’ll see you later, I guess,” Chef said. He closed the passenger door and stepped away, giving her room to back out.
It was a long drive back from the Canyon to Wilford’s house in the Hills. She had not actually planned on trying to move in with him so soon, and the timing was less than ideal for it. It was probably a good idea to open up a few options for herself. She raised the car’s roof and told her Bluetooth to call her brother.
“Celine,” Damien said, sounding oddly surprised. “Is everything all right? Mark called me, looking for you this morning.”
Celine sighed. “I’ve left him. I tried not to do it this way, but he didn’t give me a choice.”
“He kicked you out?” Damien asked.
She wanted to say yes, that’s exactly what happened. He kicked her out and she had nowhere else to go.
“I promised myself I would never stay with another man who hit me,” she said instead.
Damien stammered on the other end. “I don’t blame you,” he said finally. “Where are you going?”
That’s what Celine didn’t know how to answer. “I’ve been seeing someone else for a couple of months. If I can’t stay there for whatever reason, I’ll go to your place.”
“Why wouldn’t you be able to stay there?” Damien asked slowly.
They shouldn’t have been having this conversation over the phone. “I’m sorry, Damien. I didn’t want to end it this way. I tried so hard to avoid this scandal.”
Damien took a moment to respond. “Who are you seeing?” he asked.
It was Celine’s turn to hesitate. “Will,” she said.
“Will, from Mark’s parties, Will? The one with the two year old?” Damien asked. She could hear him pull the phone away from his face to say something. “Well, I guess it’s not as bad as it could be. Wait, you’re not pregnant, are you?”
“No, Damien,” Celine said. “The election’s more than a year away. People will have probably forgotten about this by then anyway.”
“It depends on if you’re still dating him next November,” Damien said. “It’s gonna look shady as hell if my twin sister is dating someone with that much pull at network.”
“He has one weekly show. That’s hardly pull, darling brother,” she said. He was right though. She hadn’t even thought about that aspect. She was more concerned with his image hurting from his cheating sister. Everyone would have forgotten about that by the time the ink was dry on the divorce papers.
“Just do me a favour and try not to cheat on him with someone who owns a newspaper.”
Celine felt like she’d been slapped all over again. “Thank you, Damien. I love you too.” She hung up, more angry than she felt like she had the right to be. But he had called her out so plainly, over a situation he didn’t even understand. She couldn’t tell if he was being a dickhead, or clueless.
The dogs watched her from behind the gate that led to the back yard, both of them with their snouts poking through the bars. Celine parked in the driveway and looked up at the house. She couldn’t see any lights on inside, but that didn’t mean much. She walked up the stairs, getting the key he’d given her ready, but the door opened before she got there. Wilford started to wave her in, but stopped. He was exhausted, but through all that she could see him connecting dots. Finally, he stepped aside, letting her in and quietly closing the door behind them.
“He hit you,” he said quietly.
Michael was asleep on the couch, so Celine only nodded. She walked back to the bedroom, knowing Wilford would follow her. He did, and closed the door behind them.
“Has he done this before?” he asked.
Celine shook her head. “No. And it’s the last time he will.”
“You need to take pictures,” Wilford said. “And probably call the cops.”
“No, I don’t think that’s worth it,” Celine said. She didn’t want to get the police involved. Not after the conversation she’d had with her brother.
“It’ll be your word against his,” Wilford said.
Celine sighed and stepped into the bathroom. She turned on the lights, and pulled her phone from her purse. “No it won’t. Chef was there, and he hates Mark almost as much as I do.” Still, she took the picture, hoping it meant they could move on. “He’ll take my side.”
Wilford nodded. He was trying so hard to look angry, but he just looked unbelievably tired. Celine walked around him and opened the door, and then tried to back Wilford toward the bed. “You should get some sleep,” she said.
For a moment, she thought he was going to argue. Instead he nodded and rubbed his face. “Yeah,” he agreed. He pulled her toward the bed with him, slowly letting himself fall back onto it. She hadn’t expected it, but she was tired enough that she didn’t feel like arguing either.
She hated this game that her life had become. She hated sneaking around in the open. It wasn’t even a secret anymore. Mark knew what was going on, even if he didn’t yet know with whom. She was going to wait until she served him the papers before she told him that. But the lawyer needed more time. He needed to comb through the pre-nup to make sure they had everything rock steady before they went forward. He’d assured her it was void anyway, but just in case the judge could be bought off, he needed to be ready.
Mark was gone, but she didn’t know for how long. Not that they ever said more than two words to one another. Which was the entire reason she was leaving.
She wasn’t going to leave for a day at a time anymore. She was leaving for good. She’d come back as she needed to, but she no longer lived in that house. First, she changed into something she hadn’t been wearing for two days, and began to throw everything else onto the bed. She wouldn’t take it all - couldn’t; it wouldn’t all fit into her car - but she could pick out the best stuff. Her favourite skirts and dresses, a handful of underwear, the tops that looked the newest. Those, she tossed into a suitcase. She grabbed all of her jewellery, pouring it almost carelessly into the same box, and tossed that in as well. Makeup, she could buy new. She already had some she kept at Wilford’s place anyway. That would get her by until she could find time to go shopping.
Her wedding ring, she took off, and put on the dresser. Mark could do with it as he wished.
It was all easier than she thought. She’d take the case down to the car, and come back to clear out her reading room. After that, she’d be gone for good.
It almost worked. But she wasn’t expecting to open the bedroom door and find Mark standing in the hall, waiting.
“Mark, get out of my way,” she said, trying to push past him.
Mark pushed himself more into her way, trapping her in the bedroom. “That’s it then?” he asked, his voice low and quiet. “You think you can just walk out on me?”
“Mark, get out of my way,” Celine repeated, trying to keep herself calm and level. She could not give him anything he could throw back at her. “This marriage is over, and it has been for a very long time.”
Celine didn’t need to give Mark anything. He was already furious with the entire sorry situation, and she could see it. He grabbed the suitcase from her hand and threw it over the edge and into the foyer below. “What’s he giving you that I’m not?” he demanded, stepping closer into her space and forcing her to step back into the bedroom. He saw the mess she’d left in there, clothes tossed everywhere and the dressers all tossed.
“Mark,” Celine said, focusing more on keeping herself calm than trying to do anything that might convince him to get out of the way.
Mark’s face turned red, his mouth set in a hard frown. Before Celine could react, he pulled his hand back and backhanded her, hard across the face. Celine yelped in shock, and glared at him. She was more angry than she had ever been in her life. She was more than just angry. She hated him. And she couldn’t hold it in any longer. It all came surging out so hard it sent a shockwave through the room, staggering Mark on his feet.
“Get out of my fucking way,” she said darkly.
Mark might have been picking up what she had let out, but his own fear won out. He quickly stepped out of the way, letting Celine pass. She stormed down the stairs and to the foyer, picking up her suitcase as she went. She left it by her car and headed back inside to clear out what she needed from her reading room. Her spirit board, her favourite tarot deck, various stones and crystals. She grabbed every book from her shelf, and decided she could come back for the rest, or buy new later. She upended a basket that held various table runners and reading cloths, and put everything she intended to take with her in it. It was a tight fit, and the basket wound up too heavy for her to lift. She thought about just leaving it, but she walked out of the room and across the house instead. Chef turned around sharply when she entered the kitchen, lowering his stance when he saw who it was.
“Uh. Miss Celine,” he said, giving her what he probably thought was a sweet smile. “Do you need something?”
“Chef, there is a basket on the table in my reading room. Could you please go put it in the front seat of my car?” she asked.
She didn’t like the way Chef looked at her, silent for too long of a moment before he nodded. “Of course.”
Chef was the only thing about that entire house she’d miss. She stepped aside to let him pass and picked up the empty serving tray he had on the counter. Her reflection was distorted, but not so badly that she couldn’t see the redness rising on the left side of her face. She touched her face, just under her eye on an especially red patch, and found that Mark’s ring had left a small cut. Celine dropped the tray down onto the counter angrily and started to walk out to her car, meeting Chef along the way.
“I’ll probably be back in a few weeks for the rest of my stuff,” she said, opening the passenger door for him.
“This new guy,” Chef said as he put the basket on the floor. “Is he decent?”
Celine picked up her suitcase and handed it to Chef. “You didn’t seem to think so,” she said.
Chef gave her a concerned look, but said no more as he settled her suitcase into the front seat.
“Thank you,” Celine said, walking around the car.
“I’ll see you later, I guess,” Chef said. He closed the passenger door and stepped away, giving her room to back out.
It was a long drive back from the Canyon to Wilford’s house in the Hills. She had not actually planned on trying to move in with him so soon, and the timing was less than ideal for it. It was probably a good idea to open up a few options for herself. She raised the car’s roof and told her Bluetooth to call her brother.
“Celine,” Damien said, sounding oddly surprised. “Is everything all right? Mark called me, looking for you this morning.”
Celine sighed. “I’ve left him. I tried not to do it this way, but he didn’t give me a choice.”
“He kicked you out?” Damien asked.
She wanted to say yes, that’s exactly what happened. He kicked her out and she had nowhere else to go.
“I promised myself I would never stay with another man who hit me,” she said instead.
Damien stammered on the other end. “I don’t blame you,” he said finally. “Where are you going?”
That’s what Celine didn’t know how to answer. “I’ve been seeing someone else for a couple of months. If I can’t stay there for whatever reason, I’ll go to your place.”
“Why wouldn’t you be able to stay there?” Damien asked slowly.
They shouldn’t have been having this conversation over the phone. “I’m sorry, Damien. I didn’t want to end it this way. I tried so hard to avoid this scandal.”
Damien took a moment to respond. “Who are you seeing?” he asked.
It was Celine’s turn to hesitate. “Will,” she said.
“Will, from Mark’s parties, Will? The one with the two year old?” Damien asked. She could hear him pull the phone away from his face to say something. “Well, I guess it’s not as bad as it could be. Wait, you’re not pregnant, are you?”
“No, Damien,” Celine said. “The election’s more than a year away. People will have probably forgotten about this by then anyway.”
“It depends on if you’re still dating him next November,” Damien said. “It’s gonna look shady as hell if my twin sister is dating someone with that much pull at network.”
“He has one weekly show. That’s hardly pull, darling brother,” she said. He was right though. She hadn’t even thought about that aspect. She was more concerned with his image hurting from his cheating sister. Everyone would have forgotten about that by the time the ink was dry on the divorce papers.
“Just do me a favour and try not to cheat on him with someone who owns a newspaper.”
Celine felt like she’d been slapped all over again. “Thank you, Damien. I love you too.” She hung up, more angry than she felt like she had the right to be. But he had called her out so plainly, over a situation he didn’t even understand. She couldn’t tell if he was being a dickhead, or clueless.
The dogs watched her from behind the gate that led to the back yard, both of them with their snouts poking through the bars. Celine parked in the driveway and looked up at the house. She couldn’t see any lights on inside, but that didn’t mean much. She walked up the stairs, getting the key he’d given her ready, but the door opened before she got there. Wilford started to wave her in, but stopped. He was exhausted, but through all that she could see him connecting dots. Finally, he stepped aside, letting her in and quietly closing the door behind them.
“He hit you,” he said quietly.
Michael was asleep on the couch, so Celine only nodded. She walked back to the bedroom, knowing Wilford would follow her. He did, and closed the door behind them.
“Has he done this before?” he asked.
Celine shook her head. “No. And it’s the last time he will.”
“You need to take pictures,” Wilford said. “And probably call the cops.”
“No, I don’t think that’s worth it,” Celine said. She didn’t want to get the police involved. Not after the conversation she’d had with her brother.
“It’ll be your word against his,” Wilford said.
Celine sighed and stepped into the bathroom. She turned on the lights, and pulled her phone from her purse. “No it won’t. Chef was there, and he hates Mark almost as much as I do.” Still, she took the picture, hoping it meant they could move on. “He’ll take my side.”
Wilford nodded. He was trying so hard to look angry, but he just looked unbelievably tired. Celine walked around him and opened the door, and then tried to back Wilford toward the bed. “You should get some sleep,” she said.
For a moment, she thought he was going to argue. Instead he nodded and rubbed his face. “Yeah,” he agreed. He pulled her toward the bed with him, slowly letting himself fall back onto it. She hadn’t expected it, but she was tired enough that she didn’t feel like arguing either.