Margo Lane | Parody

Existing in all the time periods for no reason other than she wishes to do so.

~ to pay you for the trouble."

At least the thought of more money perks the man up. He nods.

"Of course, Miss Lane. Something simple for tomorrow."

After the needed arrangements and exchanges, the tailor leaves Margo and Adam alone.

"Very good. That was splendid, Adam."

~ after the initial shock experienced by Adam.

"I can have things made . . ."

Margo interrupts, "By tomorrow. It need only be one thing. The rest can come later, but he needs something to wear that fits him."

Given Adam's height, it would be difficult even to borrow from someone.

"I am happy ~

The tailor seems mildly scandalized by the suggestion. Adam does, after all, appear to be a grown man. But he is . . . brand new in many ways.

"He needs me here," Margo says to the tailor. Then, to Adam, she nods. "I will stay."

The tailor gets his measurements and thankfully with little fuss ~

~ The coffee only tastes slightly burnt, and the hash browns are to die for. My treat. Then we can talk about what you're doing next."

The man deserves agency, but she would listen. If she could help, she would.

"I'm Margo Lane."

Margo offers him a look not of pity but of /empathy/. She wonders in that moment how different things might have been for her had anyone offered help or concern.

That shapes the decision that might be regarded by anyone else as reckless.

"There's a diner up the street. Greasiest of greasy spoons.~

SL with Henry and Edward:
bsky.app/profile/belc...

~ bits."

Margo, it would seem, is afraid of nothing.

~ see a life with them. Tea and conversations with Henry. That /fire/ she felt with Edward as they kissed by the river. She needs all those things.

She loves them. And one day -- when /they/ are ready to hear it -- she would say so.

"I think maybe you just needed someone unafraid of life's messy~

She adores the softness. She adores the shadow, too. Maybe when they both truly believe that, they could coexist.

"You will. I know you will."

Perhaps, Margo says that, however, because she needs to believe that for herself. She needs Henry to survive. She needs Edward to survive. And she /can/ ~

SL with Daniel:
bsky.app/profile/brig...

~ that, I would fight always. Though my motives are a little selfish. I want a place in that happiness."

Why not be bold? They are finally talking openly with each other, and she sees the potential for happiness with them.

"I am not trying to save you, Henry. I think we really can only save ourselves. But I do want to help you . . . live and be happy."

That, she thinks, will involve coming to some sort of compromise with his other self. Maybe they could come to respect each other even if they cannot agree.

"For ~

~ should. Maybe it’s the uncanny sense she has — call it a gift or a curse — but she stops and turns towards him.

“Everything alright?”

It’s obviously not, and she could find out what it is exactly in a second if she wanted but . . .

She doesn’t dig. Just asks.

Margo Lane is out late for her own reasons. Not the greatest of reasons as far as reasons go, but they are reasons nonetheless.

So she doesn’t judge the man when she sees him struggling with the lighter and obviously wandering about the night for “reasons” of his own.

She could walk by. She~

She’ll see what she can do about at least one of those.

So he wants a light and a bed, huh?

“ I do love seeing you.”

Hello, lads.

aumont “ Beau” De Lioncourt
Grand marquis
Stern father
Giver of tough love
Avid reader
Short patience
Father to two ungrateful children
Like to be a main RT for exposure

Is there a convention or something?

So many vampires . . .

~ impressed that he is willing to play the long game.

But it remains to be seen if he actually would return the following night or move along to easier . . . prey.

"Well, I do hope you find that drink, Jerry." She smiles in a way that is almost saccharinely sweet. "Have a lovely night."

Even if it weren't for the fact that she is distrustful of the mysterious stranger who can block her from is mind, Margo would be skeptical about allowing a stranger in in the middle of the night. A stranger who is really determined to get inside.

But she is enjoying the game, too, and kind of ~

~ you think?"

It doesn't look like those little Monopoly houses developers are building these days.

"I feel like it could be home."

He speaks of that which is not so far gone that it cannot be brought back. The thought makes her . . . hopeful.

"I think it is just that. I saw what the place could be. I've never been a cookie-cutter house sort of person. I like something with a little bit of character. This place has it, don't ~

She's got Jesus and a vampire wanting to fix her house.

There is no middle ground with Margo Lane.

~ handle herself and enjoys a challenge, too.

“7:30 it is. I enjoy seeing your handiwork . . . Jerry.”

He is definitely dropping some pretty big clues.

She catches most.

“Margo Lane,” the woman answers. “It’s a pleasure, Jerry Dandridge. Even if you interrupted my date with Netflix and a glass of Pinot.”

Maybe Margo is reckless. Maybe she has zero sense of self-preservation. Or maybe she can ~

~ tomorrow. Noonish,” she jokes. “I’m ruining your fun, aren’t I?”

For her part, the woman is amused.

“Do you have a name, oh mysterious handyman?”

“I already have. You’re good. At blocking that is. And I only know a few who can do that.”

Which narrows it down for her in terms of /what/ he is.

“I’d love the help, though,” she begins, acting as if she is about to step aside for him.

Then she stops.

“Alas . . . it’s late. Come back ~