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Tabithas Viewing Of The Total Eclipse Of The Sun 240409
The story unfolds as Rachel confronts a precarious moment with Solomon lunging at Tabitha outside a vintage windmill home. Rachel, caught between acting as an ally to Tabitha or abstaining from intervention, opts for a passive stance, leading to a physical altercation between Solomon and Tabitha. In a tense exchange, Tabitha resists fiercely, her defiance punctuated by a knee to Solomon’s groin, leaving him in obvious pain. Rachel's interference, seemingly to stabilize Tabitha, adds a layer of complexity to her intentions, whether to aid Solomon's recovery or to genuinely assist Tabitha remains ambiguous. This moment of strife is contrasted by Solomon's unexpected command for them to leave, his demeanor reflecting a rare glimpse of vulnerability as he grapples with an unfamiliar sense of sadness.
As the conflict escalates, Tabitha makes a profound appeal to Rachel, urging her to recognize her own worth and potential beyond Solomon’s manipulations. Rachel reveals a deep-seated despair, confessing her involvement in a friend's death and expressing a profound sense of defeat, suggesting she sees no value in fighting any longer. Despite Rachel’s resistance, Tabitha persists, offering support and insisting on Rachel's intrinsic worth. The encounter concludes with Rachel retreating, not towards Solomon, but towards a trailer park, leaving Tabitha with the uncertainty of Rachel’s fate and the impact of her words. The narrative encapsulates themes of abuse, manipulation, resilience, and the quest for redemption amidst the backdrop of a total eclipse, symbolizing the darkness overshadowing the characters' lives and the fleeting hope for light.
(Tabitha's Viewing of the Total Eclipse of the Sun)
[Mon Apr 8 2024]
At a brick path leading up to a converted windmill
Leading up to a vintage windmill now converted to a home is a brickwork path, each whitewashed brick fitting snugly against the next with precision. The path weaves through a manicured lawn, its pale tones complementing the vibrant green of the grass. Over time, the edges of the bricks have softened. At night, small solar lights illuminate the walkway, and as the path approaches the front door raised flowerbeds add a touch of seasonal color.
It is afternoon, about 55F(12C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds.
From where she stands, Rachel has full perspective to see what's coming. She could probably hit Solomon from the back -- be an ally to Tabitha. And it looks like, for a second, she might consider it; there's conflict on her face. She doesn't move forward with Solomon. But of course, she does nothing to halt him. There was a choice. She made it.
"I--" She doesn't have a good answer for Tabitha. She does have something to say to Solomon. "Do we want to make a scene out here?" Her tone's mild.
Solomon lunges for Tabitha, then -- stepping towards her with some shocking swiftness and a terrible, grasping hand. "No," he tells Rachel. "We don't, do we?" It's some pain, awful, as his hand squeezes the redhead... and then he releases her. There's a look between Tabitha and Rachel, something softening just a little in his eyes. It's a strange, curious expression -- odd. Almost vulnerable as he lets the redhead go.
Tabitha struggles against Solomon and even attempts to lift her knee into his cock. "Let me go, you primordial amoeba."
There's a second stagger back when Tabitha takes advantage of Solomon's softening resolve for a nutshot. The red-eyed devil oofs, upset and in pain.
Rachel intercedes - although, whom she's helping is up for debate. In the midst of Tabitha and Solomon's scuffling, she puts a hand to Tabitha's shoulder, intending to, if nothing else, root her to where she is. Could be that she's saving Tabitha from herself. Could be that she's giving Solomon room for recovery.
Released, Tabitha stumbles backward, too, losing her balance and landing there in the path between home and road, but its Rachel's hand on her shoulder stabilzing her. She tries to shrug the hand off her. "Don't touch me." She tries to shake it all off, starting from her head, to her shoulders, and down her spine. "Rachel... You are nothing like him. You have a lot of potential in you to be better than this man, if you can even call him man, ever likely was. Maybe long ago, he too, was like you, and I... But I think that he has forgotten. You have not. You went to Miles, you --- feel. Where he does not." Except that Solomon is feeling things. In his balls.
Solomon is, in fact, feeling something in his balls -- something painful, right now, as he gasps a little. He's bent over, breathing hard; he is at least man enough for that knee to hurt. He starts to straighten, but there's a look in his eyes as they swivel between Tabitha and Rachel. His mouth works as some unfamiliar sensation twists his lips. "I --" He looks for a word, discards it, looks for another, discards it. "Go," he says. Is that to Rachel To Tabitha To both?
Solomon is, in fact, feeling something in his balls -- something painful, right now, as he gasps a little. He's bent over, breathing hard; he is at least man enough for that knee to hurt. He starts to straighten, but there's a look in his eyes as they swivel between Tabitha and Rachel. His mouth works as some unfamiliar sensation twists his lips. "I --" He looks for a word, discards it, looks for another, discards it. "Go," he says. Is that to Rachel ? To Tabitha ? To both?
Rachel's not particularly strong, so if Tabitha wants away, she'll manage. Rachel lets go; still, she stays close. The whole time, it's not Tabitha she's watching, but Solomon -- as if she's afraid of missing a cue. "That was a mistake. I shouldn't have. I won't do it again." That's an answer to Tabitha's statement, but it's indubitably for Solomon. She's behaving. He can see that, yes?
So, it's perhaps all the more confusing when Solomon dismisses what looks like Tabitha and Rachel both. "Did I do something wrong again?" She's confused. Her thoughts play across her face: is that a trick command?
"You ... what?" Tabitha asks Solomon, voice shaking from both anger and fear. She looks to Rachel. "This will not last forever Rachel... Time, here, is on our side, though, right now? Use this to your advantage. Please. You are better. You are not him. He tellls you things, doesn't he? You are not as culpable as he wants you to feel. Don't let him take you to Hell.." She is pleading now, in front of Solomon, to Rachel, holding out her hand to the woman, confused, and unsure. "We can get through this together."
Solomon has no answer for 'You what?' -- really, the red-eyed devil doesn't have the answer inside himself. He feels off, odd, and even as the pain between his legs ebbs a little under the pressure of a demonic metabolism the feeling off being -wrong- doesn't change. His head cocks to the side, confused, as his mind races. Then finally he focuses on Tabitha. It's not an 'I', it's a 'You'. "You did something," he accuses Tabitha. Neither the redhead nor Rachel are close at hand.
"I don't know what you mean, /Mister Inigo/," Tabitha says, speaking his name in a way that seethes her hatred. "I just came and knocked on your door to give you a piece of my mind. What is it you're feeling, exactly?" She is sure to keep her distance, and if someone were to lunge, she'd be sure to skitter.
"I don't know what you mean, /Mister Inigo/," Tabitha says, speaking his name in a way that seethes her hatred. "I just came and knocked on your door to give you a piece of my mind. What is it you're feeling, exactly?" She is sure to keep her distance, and if Solomon were to lunge, she'd be sure to skitter.
Unsure. That's an apt word to describe Rachel. She looks at Tabitha's hand, as if it were something foreign. "He tells us what he needs us to hear." Never has one sentence seemed so tenuous. What's more, she hasn't moved away from Tabitha -- and she doesn't, for a great, long time, whittling away what little opportunity Tabitha has bought them.
She takes a tiny step in the right direction.
And then Solomon talks. His anger startles -- and then it reminds of reality. What proof is there that Tabitha offers better? She backpedals a little.
There's a sound from Solomon's voice. "I'm feeling something very odd," the red-eyed devil says finally. "I can't --" Such atrophied emotions, decades of evil grinding away at the parts of a man's soul that can be called human. "I feel odd," he says finally. There's a look up between Rachel and Tabitha. "I feel -- a kind of sadness."
Tabitha scrubs at her face. "Rachel. Please, snap out of it. He tells you lies to make you think you are somehow worse. Because he is a miserable little weasel looking to weasel himself into the lives of people who would otherwise have nothing to do with him. He has tried to mold you into some being that he wants. Not who you are..." She beckons again to her. "Come. Please." She seeks to carry Rachel off with her, drag her if she has to, even. "Walk with me. And lets chat?" She looks at Solomon, her thick fiery red brows furrowing down. "It has likely been a long time since you have felt anything but the feel of your own cock in your hand as you stroke your ego. I hope you wallow in it."
There's something just a little stinging about 'miserable little weasel'; ordinarily, Solomon doesn't seem like the kind of person who is stung by insults, but there it is. This Solomon, the one with these ... feelings? There's a little bit of a wound. He straightens, looking between Tabitha and Rachel, and then he steps back towards the door of the windmill, catching himself on the frame.
"I can't," Rachel says. Not 'I won't.' She must have tried some time before -- unless the bruises she wears, and continues to provoke, suggest good behavior. It's funny that that's what she believes; never has there been a better opportunity for her to go. But sometimes, when the leash is worn too long, its absence is missed.
Not only that, but: "You can't." She's made an assumption of Tabitha's ability, too.
"Fucking watch me." Tabitha claims of Rachel, grabbing the woman by her wrist and pulling her off without a look back at Solomon.
"Don't let that asshole bully you into thinking you are not strong enough to fight him." Tabitha drops Rachel's wrist with an angry huff. "I have been trying to fight for you, Lilah, myself... I can't keep fighting for you if you just GIVE UP. So FIGHT." She looks behind her and crosses her arms. "He's going to try. But I will tell you something Rachel. I don't hate too many people in this world. But I loathe him to the pit of my stomach. I'll see him dead before he kills me. But I need your help. Don't let him take advantage of you. He has me, multiple times. And yet, I am here to say ... to your face..." She tries to meet Rachel's eyes. "Fight."
"I'm not," Rachel informs Tabitha. To her credit, she doesn't go running straight back to someone. There's something a little lost in her expression. "Strong enough. I fought for months, Tabitha. Months." She emphasize the last word. "I've lost every friend. Marcus i-- I killed Marcus." She'd been about to say 'Marcus is dead.' That's not quite right. "I'm not strong enough. You've picked the wrong person to help." It's hard to place what's wrong with the way she looks. "I can't do it anymore. There's nothing to fight for anymore."
It's the lack of personhood. That's what's wrong. It's the emptiness.
"I'm not," Rachel informs Tabitha. To her credit, she doesn't go running straight back to Solomon. There's something a little lost in her expression. "Strong enough. I fought for months, Tabitha. Months." She emphasize the last word. "I've lost every friend. Marcus i-- I killed Marcus." She'd been about to say 'Marcus is dead.' That's not quite right. "I'm not strong enough. You've picked the wrong person to help." It's hard to place what's wrong with the way she looks. "I can't do it anymore. There's nothing to fight for anymore."
It's the lack of personhood. That's what's wrong. It's the emptiness.
Tabitha takes Rachel's cheeks, bruised and battered and bloodied, into her hands to lift the woman's face to look at hers. "I should have fought harder sooner. You could have always come to me. The Redeemers...." She tilts her head and the tears start to come. "There is something left. That something is --you--. You are worth a fight. You don't have to be strong, Rachel. I'll try to be strong for you. Yeah?" She breathes in shakily. "You did not kill Marcus, though. You said the words, and you can not take them back, and I know .... I --know-- the pain and the grief you feel. The loss. That loss..."
Maybe Tabitha is just being naive to think that maybe some people are human enough to not cause such pain as to lead to death. Maybe her faith is in the wrong person. But then, Rachel is grief stricken. She is hopefully not too far off.
Rachel's first instinct when Tabitha's hands come up is to flinch. It's telling. Her second: "I'm sorry." She says it quietly, at just above a whisper, like Solomon's hearing extends far down the street. There has to be a little something left in her, of her, if she's expressing regret.
"I'm sorry." But almost everything she's said, from the moment Tabitha arrived at Solomon's threshold to now, has been ambiguous. There are so many things she could be sorry for -- and only some would win Tabitha's approval.
Maybe Tabitha's naive. Maybe Rachel's further gone than she thinks. She'll have to find out another day.
And then, outside of Tabitha's hold, Rachel backs up. It's slow, at first. Just a couple of steps. Then faster, jogging. She whips out of sight -- but again, small victories, it's not to someone' house she goes. Tabitha might recognize her path as one potentially winding to the trailer park.
And then, outside of Tabitha's hold, Rachel backs up. It's slow, at first. Just a couple of steps. Then faster, jogging. She whips out of sight -- but again, small victories, it's not to Solomon's house she goes. Tabitha might recognize her path as one potentially winding to the trailer park.
As the conflict escalates, Tabitha makes a profound appeal to Rachel, urging her to recognize her own worth and potential beyond Solomon’s manipulations. Rachel reveals a deep-seated despair, confessing her involvement in a friend's death and expressing a profound sense of defeat, suggesting she sees no value in fighting any longer. Despite Rachel’s resistance, Tabitha persists, offering support and insisting on Rachel's intrinsic worth. The encounter concludes with Rachel retreating, not towards Solomon, but towards a trailer park, leaving Tabitha with the uncertainty of Rachel’s fate and the impact of her words. The narrative encapsulates themes of abuse, manipulation, resilience, and the quest for redemption amidst the backdrop of a total eclipse, symbolizing the darkness overshadowing the characters' lives and the fleeting hope for light.
(Tabitha's Viewing of the Total Eclipse of the Sun)
[Mon Apr 8 2024]
At a brick path leading up to a converted windmill
Leading up to a vintage windmill now converted to a home is a brickwork path, each whitewashed brick fitting snugly against the next with precision. The path weaves through a manicured lawn, its pale tones complementing the vibrant green of the grass. Over time, the edges of the bricks have softened. At night, small solar lights illuminate the walkway, and as the path approaches the front door raised flowerbeds add a touch of seasonal color.
It is afternoon, about 55F(12C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds.
From where she stands, Rachel has full perspective to see what's coming. She could probably hit Solomon from the back -- be an ally to Tabitha. And it looks like, for a second, she might consider it; there's conflict on her face. She doesn't move forward with Solomon. But of course, she does nothing to halt him. There was a choice. She made it.
"I--" She doesn't have a good answer for Tabitha. She does have something to say to Solomon. "Do we want to make a scene out here?" Her tone's mild.
Solomon lunges for Tabitha, then -- stepping towards her with some shocking swiftness and a terrible, grasping hand. "No," he tells Rachel. "We don't, do we?" It's some pain, awful, as his hand squeezes the redhead... and then he releases her. There's a look between Tabitha and Rachel, something softening just a little in his eyes. It's a strange, curious expression -- odd. Almost vulnerable as he lets the redhead go.
Tabitha struggles against Solomon and even attempts to lift her knee into his cock. "Let me go, you primordial amoeba."
There's a second stagger back when Tabitha takes advantage of Solomon's softening resolve for a nutshot. The red-eyed devil oofs, upset and in pain.
Rachel intercedes - although, whom she's helping is up for debate. In the midst of Tabitha and Solomon's scuffling, she puts a hand to Tabitha's shoulder, intending to, if nothing else, root her to where she is. Could be that she's saving Tabitha from herself. Could be that she's giving Solomon room for recovery.
Released, Tabitha stumbles backward, too, losing her balance and landing there in the path between home and road, but its Rachel's hand on her shoulder stabilzing her. She tries to shrug the hand off her. "Don't touch me." She tries to shake it all off, starting from her head, to her shoulders, and down her spine. "Rachel... You are nothing like him. You have a lot of potential in you to be better than this man, if you can even call him man, ever likely was. Maybe long ago, he too, was like you, and I... But I think that he has forgotten. You have not. You went to Miles, you --- feel. Where he does not." Except that Solomon is feeling things. In his balls.
Solomon is, in fact, feeling something in his balls -- something painful, right now, as he gasps a little. He's bent over, breathing hard; he is at least man enough for that knee to hurt. He starts to straighten, but there's a look in his eyes as they swivel between Tabitha and Rachel. His mouth works as some unfamiliar sensation twists his lips. "I --" He looks for a word, discards it, looks for another, discards it. "Go," he says. Is that to Rachel To Tabitha To both?
Solomon is, in fact, feeling something in his balls -- something painful, right now, as he gasps a little. He's bent over, breathing hard; he is at least man enough for that knee to hurt. He starts to straighten, but there's a look in his eyes as they swivel between Tabitha and Rachel. His mouth works as some unfamiliar sensation twists his lips. "I --" He looks for a word, discards it, looks for another, discards it. "Go," he says. Is that to Rachel ? To Tabitha ? To both?
Rachel's not particularly strong, so if Tabitha wants away, she'll manage. Rachel lets go; still, she stays close. The whole time, it's not Tabitha she's watching, but Solomon -- as if she's afraid of missing a cue. "That was a mistake. I shouldn't have. I won't do it again." That's an answer to Tabitha's statement, but it's indubitably for Solomon. She's behaving. He can see that, yes?
So, it's perhaps all the more confusing when Solomon dismisses what looks like Tabitha and Rachel both. "Did I do something wrong again?" She's confused. Her thoughts play across her face: is that a trick command?
"You ... what?" Tabitha asks Solomon, voice shaking from both anger and fear. She looks to Rachel. "This will not last forever Rachel... Time, here, is on our side, though, right now? Use this to your advantage. Please. You are better. You are not him. He tellls you things, doesn't he? You are not as culpable as he wants you to feel. Don't let him take you to Hell.." She is pleading now, in front of Solomon, to Rachel, holding out her hand to the woman, confused, and unsure. "We can get through this together."
Solomon has no answer for 'You what?' -- really, the red-eyed devil doesn't have the answer inside himself. He feels off, odd, and even as the pain between his legs ebbs a little under the pressure of a demonic metabolism the feeling off being -wrong- doesn't change. His head cocks to the side, confused, as his mind races. Then finally he focuses on Tabitha. It's not an 'I', it's a 'You'. "You did something," he accuses Tabitha. Neither the redhead nor Rachel are close at hand.
"I don't know what you mean, /Mister Inigo/," Tabitha says, speaking his name in a way that seethes her hatred. "I just came and knocked on your door to give you a piece of my mind. What is it you're feeling, exactly?" She is sure to keep her distance, and if someone were to lunge, she'd be sure to skitter.
"I don't know what you mean, /Mister Inigo/," Tabitha says, speaking his name in a way that seethes her hatred. "I just came and knocked on your door to give you a piece of my mind. What is it you're feeling, exactly?" She is sure to keep her distance, and if Solomon were to lunge, she'd be sure to skitter.
Unsure. That's an apt word to describe Rachel. She looks at Tabitha's hand, as if it were something foreign. "He tells us what he needs us to hear." Never has one sentence seemed so tenuous. What's more, she hasn't moved away from Tabitha -- and she doesn't, for a great, long time, whittling away what little opportunity Tabitha has bought them.
She takes a tiny step in the right direction.
And then Solomon talks. His anger startles -- and then it reminds of reality. What proof is there that Tabitha offers better? She backpedals a little.
There's a sound from Solomon's voice. "I'm feeling something very odd," the red-eyed devil says finally. "I can't --" Such atrophied emotions, decades of evil grinding away at the parts of a man's soul that can be called human. "I feel odd," he says finally. There's a look up between Rachel and Tabitha. "I feel -- a kind of sadness."
Tabitha scrubs at her face. "Rachel. Please, snap out of it. He tells you lies to make you think you are somehow worse. Because he is a miserable little weasel looking to weasel himself into the lives of people who would otherwise have nothing to do with him. He has tried to mold you into some being that he wants. Not who you are..." She beckons again to her. "Come. Please." She seeks to carry Rachel off with her, drag her if she has to, even. "Walk with me. And lets chat?" She looks at Solomon, her thick fiery red brows furrowing down. "It has likely been a long time since you have felt anything but the feel of your own cock in your hand as you stroke your ego. I hope you wallow in it."
There's something just a little stinging about 'miserable little weasel'; ordinarily, Solomon doesn't seem like the kind of person who is stung by insults, but there it is. This Solomon, the one with these ... feelings? There's a little bit of a wound. He straightens, looking between Tabitha and Rachel, and then he steps back towards the door of the windmill, catching himself on the frame.
"I can't," Rachel says. Not 'I won't.' She must have tried some time before -- unless the bruises she wears, and continues to provoke, suggest good behavior. It's funny that that's what she believes; never has there been a better opportunity for her to go. But sometimes, when the leash is worn too long, its absence is missed.
Not only that, but: "You can't." She's made an assumption of Tabitha's ability, too.
"Fucking watch me." Tabitha claims of Rachel, grabbing the woman by her wrist and pulling her off without a look back at Solomon.
"Don't let that asshole bully you into thinking you are not strong enough to fight him." Tabitha drops Rachel's wrist with an angry huff. "I have been trying to fight for you, Lilah, myself... I can't keep fighting for you if you just GIVE UP. So FIGHT." She looks behind her and crosses her arms. "He's going to try. But I will tell you something Rachel. I don't hate too many people in this world. But I loathe him to the pit of my stomach. I'll see him dead before he kills me. But I need your help. Don't let him take advantage of you. He has me, multiple times. And yet, I am here to say ... to your face..." She tries to meet Rachel's eyes. "Fight."
"I'm not," Rachel informs Tabitha. To her credit, she doesn't go running straight back to someone. There's something a little lost in her expression. "Strong enough. I fought for months, Tabitha. Months." She emphasize the last word. "I've lost every friend. Marcus i-- I killed Marcus." She'd been about to say 'Marcus is dead.' That's not quite right. "I'm not strong enough. You've picked the wrong person to help." It's hard to place what's wrong with the way she looks. "I can't do it anymore. There's nothing to fight for anymore."
It's the lack of personhood. That's what's wrong. It's the emptiness.
"I'm not," Rachel informs Tabitha. To her credit, she doesn't go running straight back to Solomon. There's something a little lost in her expression. "Strong enough. I fought for months, Tabitha. Months." She emphasize the last word. "I've lost every friend. Marcus i-- I killed Marcus." She'd been about to say 'Marcus is dead.' That's not quite right. "I'm not strong enough. You've picked the wrong person to help." It's hard to place what's wrong with the way she looks. "I can't do it anymore. There's nothing to fight for anymore."
It's the lack of personhood. That's what's wrong. It's the emptiness.
Tabitha takes Rachel's cheeks, bruised and battered and bloodied, into her hands to lift the woman's face to look at hers. "I should have fought harder sooner. You could have always come to me. The Redeemers...." She tilts her head and the tears start to come. "There is something left. That something is --you--. You are worth a fight. You don't have to be strong, Rachel. I'll try to be strong for you. Yeah?" She breathes in shakily. "You did not kill Marcus, though. You said the words, and you can not take them back, and I know .... I --know-- the pain and the grief you feel. The loss. That loss..."
Maybe Tabitha is just being naive to think that maybe some people are human enough to not cause such pain as to lead to death. Maybe her faith is in the wrong person. But then, Rachel is grief stricken. She is hopefully not too far off.
Rachel's first instinct when Tabitha's hands come up is to flinch. It's telling. Her second: "I'm sorry." She says it quietly, at just above a whisper, like Solomon's hearing extends far down the street. There has to be a little something left in her, of her, if she's expressing regret.
"I'm sorry." But almost everything she's said, from the moment Tabitha arrived at Solomon's threshold to now, has been ambiguous. There are so many things she could be sorry for -- and only some would win Tabitha's approval.
Maybe Tabitha's naive. Maybe Rachel's further gone than she thinks. She'll have to find out another day.
And then, outside of Tabitha's hold, Rachel backs up. It's slow, at first. Just a couple of steps. Then faster, jogging. She whips out of sight -- but again, small victories, it's not to someone' house she goes. Tabitha might recognize her path as one potentially winding to the trailer park.
And then, outside of Tabitha's hold, Rachel backs up. It's slow, at first. Just a couple of steps. Then faster, jogging. She whips out of sight -- but again, small victories, it's not to Solomon's house she goes. Tabitha might recognize her path as one potentially winding to the trailer park.