notdreaming | 015 - Who am I then? Tell me that first, and then, if I like being that person, I'll come up.

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015 - Who am I then? Tell me that first, and then, if I like being that person, I'll come up.

[ Private Text to Blight (and anyone else sustaining injuries from one Kara or another) ]

I'm so, so sorry. Please let me know if there's anything I can do to help.

[ Private Text to Scorpius ]

What did you do to Kyle?

[ Open Spam ]

[ It isn't that she feels guilt for being that awful version of herself. She knows that she's better than that, and she isn't responsible for some other world where everything went somehow so much worse.

The trouble is that it felt so good, letting her powers loose on everything and everyone in sight. Not caring how much damage she caused, if someone was killed in the process. And when she doesn't hold back it's amazing and terrible what she can do. She really could take over a world if she wanted to. She's every bit as dangerous as the people of Earth assumed she was. It makes her sick to her stomach.

The first thing she does when things go back to normal and she's herself again is to fly so far into the CES that nobody will see the flash when she lets off an enormous bout of solar energy. She burns power until she can barely fly anymore, and makes the long trek back to her room on foot.

Concerned friends will find that they have access to her room - she's been very good about keeping her access lists up to date. Anyone else might find her in the dining hall, eating a great deal more than usual and looking outright miserable about it. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I'm afraid I don't know what you mean.

My inmate. He's still in a coma.

And you blame me for this?

No, I just want to know if you did anything to him during the flood.

I did nothing to him.

[And I do not appreciate your insinuations. B[ ]

That's all I wanted to know.

[ She still handed him over on a silver platter, but that's not Scorpius' fault either. ]

My counterpart may have injected him with a number of unstable chemicals in a desperate bid for freedom.

[ ...Scorpius why are you so mean to her ]

What chemicals, exactly?

Unless you are a chemist in the Uncharted Territories, I'm afraid telling you would mean next to nothing.

You would do well to smother him and let him regenerate in his own time.

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[Very tempted to ignore her. Also bedridden though, so. Anxious boredom evidently wins the day.]

...Pretty certain I was trying to rip your face off, or something to that effect, at the time.

Also it wasn't really me and it wasn't really you. So why dwell?

[ Kara is way too busy feeling sorry for herself to let anyone hear her voice, nope. ]

the offer stands

[And his head is throbbing too much for him to want to stare at tiny leters on a screen while he pecks out a response.]

Not to be ungrateful. But what could you even do for me, anyway?

I don't know, whatever

Fine. We'll say you owe me a favor then. Will that do?

ok

My god, are you really that easily satisfied?

Or is it just that you're that easy to guilt?

You know how to get in touch with me.

[private ; SPOKEN WORD /o/]

walkingmeltdown - 2014-05-15 03:16 (UTC) - Expand

[Slevin knows how it feels to not really know what to do with himself; he projects this without realizing he's doing it to her being evasive, avoiding other people. It's what he'd do. It's what he's doing.

But he remembers her, this time, and he knows she was affected. He knows she won't be taking it well. She's sensitive, and so often she isolates herself without quite realizing she's doing it.

People who've lost their entire family rather suddenly tend to do that, he's learned.

He still has the key she gave him, and he knows he's on her access list. He's used it before, leaving behind a drying shower and a damp towel hung up in her bathroom and no other trace of himself, hiding here for a few hours when he was busy isolating himself from his warden for one reason or another.

This time he lets himself in only long enough to leave the multi-colored cube where she'll see it. He knows she'll know it was him, once she figures out what it is.

He's okay with it. He lets himself back out the same way he came in, making sure the door is locked behind him.]

[ The whole time he's in and out Kara is locked up in her parent's bedroom with Krypto, who hears and smells the intruder and chooses not to disturb his clearly very distressed master. So it isn't until she goes downstairs to eat again that she finds the cube and starts crying again.

It's good, because it means she has time to clean herself up and look less like she's been carrying on as much as she has been when she sends him a message. ]

Come over?

[He wants to say no. He wants to pick up the call and run sarcastic lines at her, maybe say something mean or cruel, back her off again. He doesn't want to come over. He doesn't want to talk, or see her, or explain why the hell he brought her a fucking Rubik's Cube.

Which is why he does it anyway. Besides, in order to back her off again, she would've had to have backed off a first time, and she never really did. He owes her this much, anyway.

So he compromises. He doesn't reply over the communicators. He does show up, solemn and withdrawn, to knock at her door fairly soon thereafter, though.]

[ She hasn't actually thought of a reason for inviting him over other than that she didn't want to be alone anymore and she wanted to see him. So when she answers the door she has the Rubik's Cube in her hand, three of the sides finished, the rest a mess. Her smile is kind of pathetic, but it's there. ]

I think I made progress.

[Slevin is standing slightly to one side of the doorway, and his eyes drop instinctively to whatever's in her hand the moment he realizes it's there; he doesn't really tense, but he does relax again once he notices the uniform fragments of color. He doesn't smile back, but he does nod.]

I knew you'd like it. [There's a ghost of his inherent charisma in the statement anyway, a glint of cockiness, glancing down at it and back up.] How long've you been working on it?

About an hour. [ She fiddles with it a little. There's a tiny scrape on her knuckle, the only clue that she doesn't need to worry about breaking it. ]

It's harder than it looks.