(2019-01-04) A Prodigal Daughter’s Return
Details for A Prodigal Daughter's Return

Summary: Rev returns to Mythic Wood and runs into Lyra, who knew her father well. Together they face the pain of a still too recent passing.
Rating: PG-13
Date: January 4, 2019
Related: Milkshakes and Memories
Lyra Young Reverie Stargazer

Rev's Mythic Woods arrival had consisted of a stay in the local Motel before she pulled up at the old house. The engine of the old corolla hatchback that is rusting out rumbles off and she pushes the door open with a kick of her booted foot. She pulls herself out, tank top, jean jacket and set of regular cut jeans. She lifts her fingernails to drag at her teeth and clean them before she is glancing back down at the other homes, like clusters of outsiders. But when she looks back she stares at the house she can barely remember and feels…lost.

Eyes focus for a moment on the front door and then at the back garage that looks too empty. It's so quiet. "Fuck …this place …" It was always full of life. Brigade members, her father..the sounds of engines. She can't seem to bring herself to get any closer as her arms cross before her.

Most of the bikes throughout the trailer park roar like thunder. Compared to those, Lyra’s purrs like a kitten as she rolls up the street. It’s too late for Lyra to hope that she’ll catch Shelly at home before she heads off to the Bachelor’s Club. So she’ll just be dropping off the baked goods tucked away in her motorbike’s side-bag. But before she can reach her friend’s house, she catches an unfamiliar car parked outside of Rabid’s old trailer. And a strange woman standing just outside.

Lyra stops short and stares wide-eyed at Reverie. She doesn’t know her. She might be someone bad. Someone dangerous. But then again, she might also be /her/. “Hey. Um… Who are you?” she asks, gripping the handles of her bike tightly.

The sound of tires and the chorus of a bike are not far from Rev's thoughts but its the voice that is clearly address her that causes her to turn. Boots crunch on the gravel as she turns with her arms still crossed. A distraction is a good thing in this rather uncomfortable homecoming. A dark brow arches and Rev gives Lyra a look before a smirk plays at her lips. "Well aren't you cute," she says before she chuckles. There is the rasp or someone who smokes. Her slender figure gives that swagger of a do not give a damn as she steps closer to Lyra and uncrosses her arms. A bone pendant swings at her neck and she motions with a thumb over her shoulder.

"My old man's place…heard he died while I was gone. Seems he left me everything…just been indisposed for a few years." For what reason is not explained.

Lyra’s cheeks flush as Reverie smirks and observes her to be cute. Standing at 5’2” and weighing less than she should, she doesn’t even look as old as she is. And though she’s wearing a leather jacket and riding a motorcycle, her jacket bears a patch of a little white rabbit, and her bike idles so softly. But she holds her ground as this badass bombshell approaches her.

Hearing her suspicions to be confirmed, Lyra’s eyes widen. “It’s you… is- is it really? Are… are you Reverie? Wait… no, tell me- tell me first… Umm… what- what was Michigan? Tell me that.” She studies Rev with a guarded hint of caution that doesn’t quite hide the hope shining in her eyes.

Reverie looks somewhat suspicious when the girl names her. Some girl, some young punk who does not know her and it obvious throws her off footing for the moment. Her lips part and she tilts her head as her dark caramel eyes narrow. "Michigan…." For a moment the older woman is looking like she's trying to figure out what the hell is going on. "I have never been to Michigan… look I need to get inside. Do you know where Butch is?"

Though that bike, the girl on it and the leather jacket are given a long study. "You knew my father…and he told you about me." This is all said rather dead pan as if she's sussing it out without needing answers. "Michigan. Fuck.." she says and slaps her hip. "Did my old pa go and give you my frog?"

Lyra’s brows knit when Reverie doesn’t seem to know what she means at first. Her knuckles turn white. She’s about to take off, to sound an alarm. But then she seems to remember. And then she gets it right. A luminous smile brightens her features. Oh! But Lyra hadn’t considered how this woman might react to hearing that Rabid gave her the frog. She catches her lower lip. “Um… Yes. He- I call him Michi. And… And I still have him. I… I took good care of him.” Her cheeks flush as she realizes what a child she must sound like.

Cocking her head to the side a little, Rev just stares at the girl. "Who are you?" That question is a little caustic in its nature and she takes a half a step closer. "Mich…his name was Mich…did you not see his top hat?" Because a gentleman frog and they don't have i's at the end of their names.

Lyra bows her head, peeking up at Reverie as she steps closer. “I was really little when he gave him to me. He told me you called him Mich and- and it’s just what I did.” She pauses, tucking a lock of her vibrant red hair behind her ear. “I’m Lyra, by the way. Lyra Young. My grampa has your dad’s key. If you wait here, I can go get it for you.”

That tid bit of information may have softened her up a bit and Rev huffs out a breath. "Look if my pa gave you Mich, you must be someone special. Mich doesn't belong to just anyone." She clears her throat and rubs at her arm before she tilts her head. "Butch's granddaugther…nice to meet you, Lyra. Reverie Herr…Reverie Stargazer." She gives the girl a gruff look but one that is coaxed out of being threatening with a rueful smirk. She crosses towards her and extends a hand upon unfolding her arms. "Good to meet you. Nice bike,"she adds and then pulls her hand back after a firm shake. "If you could get me the key that would be swell..and don't forget to bring Mich for a visit."

That gruffness doesn’t seem to intimidate the young girl in the slightest. In fact, it reminds her of Reverie’s father, and just draws out a shy yet warm smile. There’s no doubt in her mind that this is her Uncle Rabid’s daughter. Her gloved handshake is far firmer than one might expect. “Thanks. And sure. I’ll be right back.” With little roar of her engine, she does a sharp u-turn and takes off fast down the street. She’s back in five minutes flat – cheeks flushed from the running she did to get the key and the bite of the cold evening air. Parking just behind Rev’s Corolla, she hops up and scampers up to the woman. “Here. This is yours,” she says, holding out the key on battered keychain.

Rev is smoking when Lyra come back, leaning against the back side of the car. The cherry at the end flares to life with another heavy inhale and then is exhaled slowly before she ashes the stick to the ground. As the bike pulls up she pushes off the car and drops the cigarette, stomping with a liberal twist squishing of her foot. The rest of the smoke is exhaled up and to the side away from the incoming girl.

"Thanks, kid." She reaches out to take it, turning it over in her hand before she draws a deep breath and turns towards the house, heading up the walk and pauses, "You coming?" That's and invitation. But Rev never waits for anyone and up to the door she goes, setting the key to the lock and after a bit of a hip thrust into the door it gives and she steps in to be assault by the smell of old beer, cigarette smoke and likely..jerky? She pulls the key from the door and tries the lights but the power has been shut off. The flip up and down gets nothing but she starts the slow walk of the kitchen where she entered.

Lyra hesitates out on the street at the invitation. But Rev doesn’t wait, and the girl finds herself hurrying after her. But she freezes just before reaching the threshold. Her arms fold and press over her stomach. Though the kitchen had to have been cleaned, she can still see it. Flickers in her mind. Traces of what happened. The color has drained from her cheeks. Hugging herself tight, she steps back.

Rev wasn't there. Rev doesn't know so when the girl hesitates at the door and looks quite uncomfortable and perhaps even like she'd seen a ghost the older woman tilts her head and eyes her. "Hey there, you cold?" Good, safe question to ask. Glancing about the room she steps towards her and stands just before her in front of that coat closet that separates the kitchen from the living area. "Yeah…we both have memories don't we? Bit overwhelming at night..smells the same." She's talking for the both of them and then grasps Lyra's arm gently. "He's not gone. He'd tell you that what with his beliefs and everything." She glances back, no need to stay here at this moment RIGHT now. She ushers her out onto the landing and will close the door behind them. "Is that diner..or whatever still around? Milkshake? I could use something dipped liberally in oil at this moment and we can take my car."

Lyra can’t stop staring at the floor. At those traces. But when Rev grasps her arm, she blinks and looks up at her. Not gone? He did tell her. He said his spirit wouldn’t ever leave her. Tears brim on Lyra’s lashes that she tries to blink away before the woman notices. As Rev closes up behind them, she turns her head and gazes off across the street at Shelly’s trailer. Her voice is soft but steady when she responds. “Sure. It’s still there. But I should leave my scoot at home. Can we stop there first?”

Rev has trouble with emotions too but her's are more her lack there of and how to handle them. Drawing a slow breath and letting out a sigh she forces a smile on her lips and gently gives a light pat to Lyra's arm. It awkward but she's trying. "Sure thing..I will follow you." She waits for Lyra to walk down the steps and will follow, her bone pendant swaying as she does. It will take her a moment to get the rust bucket purring into a low ragged rumble and will back up, and soon follow Lyra to what she remembers is Butch's. Ages.

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