thepainted_lady: (Capable of more than you think)
Since John had told them about Elijah, Lydia had been curious. John didn't know that much, really--just that he'd been watching them, and that he was likely old. Lydia had, in theory, known there were vampires out there older than John, but she'd never expected to meet one, and found herself wondering just how old this vampire was and what he was like and what he was in town and watching them for. It was a strange mix of trepidation and excitement that was twisting around in her stomach.

Angela seemed far calmer, for all that she was the most vulnerable. Dinner itself was hardly necessary for any of them but Angela and Amanda, but Lydia, at least, had gotten back into the habit. Food was delicious now, even if not really helpful nutritionally. Edgar had wanted to come, but Lydia had sent Amanda off with him instead, not really wanting Amanda around if their guest turned out to be dangerous. Granted, Amanda was pretty capable of defending herself--none of them liked fire much--but the last thing they needed was her getting really scared or angry and burning the house down.

They'd just have to rest on their own gifts to keep them safe if he was hostile, which, considering Sylar and Peter had a wicked number of them, she figured they were okay. She'd never much done all that well with cooking when human, so she mostly hung around the kitchen while Angela made the food, helping out when the older woman asked. Lydia did get the table set and the wine open to breathe, then came back to hover in the kitchen until the bell rang.

The sound of it echoed through the house and she jumped a little, then gave Angela a nervous glance and drifted to the hallway to hover, not really wanting to be the one to open the door to the new vampire in town.
thepainted_lady: ([Samuel] Conspirators)
Lydia was normally a very patient, serene sort of person. She didn't get frazzled easily, she dealt well with the foibles of her family and could soothe ruffled feathers and the more...volatile personalities that surrounded her with soft touches and gentle smiles. They depended on her for it, without knowing they did, she sometimes thought, and she played her role of steadier influence to the somewhat frenetic energy of the carnival as Joseph had before her without a murmur. It suited her, and let her bury any of her own turmoil away in soothing routines and find strength in familiarity to bolster an innate fragility she let very few see.

But for the moment, she was done, and for the last couple of weeks had been riding an edge she couldn't quite seem to balance upon. Everything hurt. She was as liable to burst into tears as smile. The first couple of months of her third trimester had been filled with a sense of well-being, for the most part, but while she could capture moments of that here and there, it seemed to have disappeared in a wave of impatience. Also, the frequent Braxton Hicks contractions and cramping had her sending for Sarah, the midwife, enough the past couple of weeks that the poor woman finally just had her trailer moved next to Lydia and Samuel's for the duration.

Of course, after that, Lydia managed to figure out what the fake ones felt like. What? She hadn't been pregnant in 16 years! Your mind made this part foggy, she was sure. Otherwise no one would go through it again and the human race would die out.

With a sigh, she sat back in the chair under the canopy and watched the family going about the day's work. )
thepainted_lady: ([Samuel] Mutual comfort)
[Co-written with [livejournal.com profile] offering_hope. Set up RP/fic for our AU verse "Four Quartets.". Edgar is not meant to refer to any particular Edgar.]

They'd had a good night, Lydia thought, making her way across the carnival grounds. Her sandals dangled from her fingers and she let her toes dig into the dirt, feeling the lingering warmth of the long set sun still seeping up into her skin from it. A tune from the ride that was closest to her booth was caught in her head, some pop number that kept their teen visitors happy, and she hummed it. Across the way she caught sight of Joseph, and waved. He returned it with a warm smile, and her eyes scanned on, searching for Samuel and Edgar. She was isolated from them, off with customers, every night, but a glass of wine curled up somewhere and talking seemed a nice way to finish up the evening.

A couple of people called out greetings which she returned, but she didn't pause, still on her search. When looking didn't seem to find either of them, she paused, closing her eyes and reached out with her other sense, feeling for them along the connections forged through years of family. She could find nearly anyone in the family, almost any time, and she smiled a bit as she brushed over their presences, on opposite ends of the carnival. Hesitating, deciding which way to go first, she left her senses out there, and the peace she'd been feeling dissipated in a ripple of darkness that seemed to hit her.

Hatred. Malevolence. Anger. They were all out there, wrapping around the carnival in some sort of emotional miasma and while she couldn't pinpoint it to an exact source, there was a clear desire to harm them. Frantic, she spun around, eyes snapping open, and looked to where Joseph had been, but he was gone. She stood there for a moment, caught, unsure, then ran to where he had been, hoping he hadn't wandered far.

She nearly crashed into Samuel instead. )
thepainted_lady: (Trusting soul)
Lydia had missed the last fourteen birthdays with her daughter. To be sure, sometimes she'd managed to send cards, but she hadn't always been able to get away, to send them, and to send too much would risk them tracking back to her. And letting the family know about her past, to be able to make the effort, wasn't always easy. Trips to the post office would be noted, possibly questioned. She'd tried, but she knew it hadn't nearly been enough.

This year, she was determined to do better.

That Amanda was turning fifteen, such a painful year in Lydia's own past, she was sort of trying not to focus on. It was going to be a good day. She was still getting to know her daughter, and had been uncertain what, exactly, she'd like, but she had one idea for part of spending the day she hoped she would approve of, at least, if the gifts weren't quite...right.

All gaily wrapped in bright paper, she had several packages. Inside were: a hand-woven charm bracelet; a brightly colored, butterfly hoodie; and a smaller box containing an aquamarine belly button ring. She has a matching amethyst--her birthstone--one in another box...as a thought that, maybe, if Amanda wants...they could go into town and get piercings done at the same time.

She's let the right people know it's Amanda's birthday, and there will be a larger celebration later, but for now, she just wants to have some time that's just hers with the daughter she's spent too much time away from.
thepainted_lady: ([Samuel] Conspirators)
Their first day on the Olympic peninsula had been wonderful, Lydia thought. Getting away from the carnival wasn't something they got the chance to do. Truthfully, it wasn't something she wanted to do very often, but everyone needed a break, even from family and things one loved. She was pretty sure that any speculation that had been going around from the time they had been spending together was fairly confirmed, now. There wasn't really much privacy among the family, but if Samuel didn't mind, she certainly didn't. The only one liable to disapprove was Edgar and...much as she didn't want to hurt Edgar, ever, she was too happy to let it bring her down.

The weather was perfect, the hotel was gorgeous, the bed larger than both of theirs put together, and they'd made good use of it so far, as well as the rug in front of the fireplace, simply because Lydia had never done such a thing and the night had been cool enough to warrant turning it on.

Today was for the hot springs, though, the lure that had brought them here. The hotel had packed them a picnic lunch for them, and set them on the right trail. It was early enough in the season, that they hadn't seen anyone else setting out on the path that ran about two miles to the natural springs in the depth of the forest. Lydia sincerely hoped it stayed that way.

"It's really beautiful, isn't it?" she asked, casting Samuel a smiling glance as she breathed in the fresh scent of the old growth forest around them.

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Lydia

October 2011

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