Fanfiction Lounge

The incident had disturbed her emotionally and mentally for years after, and still does to this very day; in the presence of so many children who'd suffered the loss of their own parents only served to amplify this sense of dissonance. From my own observatory of sorts I watched as she seated herself about all those young orphans and began to patiently await the large priest's arrival. Hmph! Patient at a glance she was, perhaps, but the woman was hardly calm at all! In tune with all of my subordinates, I prove to be no more sensitive to her feelings and thoughts than I am to any other angel I have ever created. This lull before the meeting was no exception to the rule.

Occasionally, her eyes would dart from one child to another as they played with each other. Most gave Lauren little to no need, having seen her in St. Luke's before; however, I could sense that those who took greater notice of her earned an inward cringe they'd probably never see in their lifetimes. From the first fleeting exchanges of a glance or two, of course other subtle quirks were bound to commence. The adroit fingers of her right hand, usually curled around the head of the armrest out of habit, slowly found themselves dragged into a rather impatient little tap on the wood; with neither rhyme nor reason to it, the delicacy of her disturbed nature was utterly destroyed in the eyes of any observer who even so much as dared to watch Lauren with utmost care. As if that was not dire enough of a hint, the woman could not help but fall in the face of habit further and thus begin to fidget in the chair. Subtlety was swiftly lost in a sea of agitated, unnecessary movement; the longer she was alone in the presence of these young, unfortunate orphans, the greater her mind began to toy with the truth that she too was one of them.

At last, the sense of hours sitting and waiting began to crack and shatter. Fifteen minutes after the head nun of the orphanage had allowed her to take even one step into the house, Father Anderson moved his great frame through the doorway. I could sense that a great weight had been lifted off of the woman's shoulders, as she was very quick to rise out of the chair that had been offered to her. The sheer amount of unnatural, agitated beginnings of greetings she bestowed upon the Catholic actually seemed to throw him off guard for a second. On the other hand, now that she was free to place distressed mental paths into the abyss that made up the back of her mind, Lauren crossed the gap between them both and removed her hat in formal greeting. As the seconds ticked by, time sped up rather quickly for her mentality once more.

"Father Anderson, 'ow wonderful for ya t' finally grace us wit' yer presence…"

The incident had disturbed her emotionally and mentally for years after, and still does to this very day; in the presence of so many children who'd suffered the loss of their own parents only served to amplify this sense of dissonance. From my own observatory of sorts I watched as she seated herself about all those young orphans and began to patiently await the large priest's arrival. Hmph! Patient at a glance she was, perhaps, but the woman was hardly calm at all! In tune with all of my subordinates, I proved to be no more sensitive to her feelings and thoughts than I was to any other angel I had ever created. This lull before the meeting was no exception to the rule.

Occasionally, her eyes would dart from one child to another as they played with each other. Most gave Lauren little to no need, having seen her in St. Luke's before; however, I could sense that those who took greater notice of her earned an inward cringe they'd probably never see in their lifetimes. From the first fleeting exchanges of a glance or two, of course other subtle quirks were bound to commence. The adroit fingers of her right hand, usually curled around the head of the armrest out of habit, slowly found themselves dragged into a rather impatient little tap on the wood; with neither rhyme nor reason to it, the delicacy of her disturbed nature was utterly destroyed in the eyes of any observer who even so much as dared to watch Lauren with utmost care. As if that was not dire enough of a hint, the woman could not help but fall in the face of habit further and thus begin to fidget in the chair. Subtlety was swiftly lost in a sea of agitated, unnecessary movement; the longer she was alone in the presence of these young, unfortunate orphans, the greater her mind began to toy with the truth that she too was one of them.

At last, the sense of hours sitting and waiting began to crack and shatter. Fifteen minutes after the head nun of the orphanage had allowed her to take even one step into the house, Father Anderson moved his great frame through the doorway. I could sense that a great weight had been lifted off of the woman's shoulders, as she was very quick to rise out of the chair that had been offered to her. The sheer amount of unnatural, agitated beginnings of greetings she bestowed upon the Catholic actually seemed to throw him off guard for a second. On the other hand, now that she was free to place distressed mental paths into the abyss that made up the back of her mind, Lauren crossed the gap between them both and removed her hat in formal greeting. As the seconds ticked by, time sped up rather quickly for her mentality once more.

"Father Anderson, how wonderful for you to finally grace us with your presence…"