23 - And what is the use of a book without pictures or conversation?

[notdreaming]

[ Spam ]

[ For all the time Kara spends in her room, she spends at least an equal amount of time in the Enclosure, soaking up the sun and enjoying the sights. She's very content these days, satisfied with the friends she's made on the barge and the progress Kyle has made toward graduation. Some day soon she will be able to return home, she can feel it.

Those who frequent the pub know where to find their bouncer and amateur drink mixer. She is merciless with troublemakers and any who aren't supposed to be drinking. She can still be found in the library as well, continuing her studies of Terran medicine as well as that of other species. She's always been passionate about learning: it's as natural to her as breathing.

If she's been having bad dreams, it doesn't seem to have dented her mood yet. ]

[ Dreams are in comments! ]

Comments

Beheading, ft. Kylar Stern

[notdreaming]

It’s late, but you’re restless. A day of fancy parties and dinners with your father’s business partners and noble ‘friends’ just doesn’t do much for you, now that you’re old enough that you aren’t excited by the chance to show off the latest fashions or wear pretty dresses. If one of the maids found you wandering at this time of night they would no doubt alert one of your parents and usher you back to bed, so you walk quietly through the halls in your bare feet. Most of the floors are stone, and while they’re cool the internal heating system is always on high enough that it doesn’t bother you. You secret yourself into the kitchen for a glass of water, just an excuse to stretch your legs.

Talk has been worrying you, of late. You never used to listen before, but you’re getting old enough so that not only are you supposed to know enough about current events to keep up conversation with the other nobility, but you’re interested on a personal level. As the only child of a fairly prestigious family, you know that one day your father’s problems will be your problems. And they are your father’s problems. Your mother helps with business, of course, but she only married into the family. She doesn’t have a name to uphold. A name that you begin to suspect isn’t quite as clean as you would like it.

Glass in hand, you find that you’re still too restless to want to head back to bed just yet. You wander the halls, the wide open areas that are really only used during the day when there are people about. This is the part of the massive estate where your parents have offices and libraries, and the servants either don’t need to or aren’t allowed to clean as often. You’re unlikely to be caught wandering here.

The war raging in the outer planets has always seemed like a distant fantasy to you: fodder for cheap novels about the glory of battle, but no genuine threat. Now you start to wonder, about the emperor, about the Rix and the Worldminds, and about the political world your parents live in. It’s unpleasant to think that your own family might be corrupt, responsible for the suffering of those that have always been considered beneath you, but you’re too old to simply ignore those thoughts. It’s part of what troubles you in the pitch dark of night.

You wouldn’t have seen anything at all if you hadn’t noticed the door to your father’s office slightly ajar. Just a thin bit of light between the door and the frame shows that it’s open when it never is at normal hours. Father is secretive about his work. He told you he was for bed hours ago, but you aren’t surprised that isn’t the case. You are surprised that he forgot to close the door all the way. Whatever kept him in his office late at night must have been disturbing for him to be so distracted.

You’re well aware that he will scold if he finds you awake, and even more so if he finds you peeking into his office late in the night, so you look carefully through the crack to see if he’s truly there. So long as you don’t move the door, he shouldn’t be able to see you from behind his desk.

There’s the edge of his desk, one arm resting on the wood, a pen in hand. It doesn’t move. From the way the pen is slumped a bit, he might have fallen asleep. Then motion catches your eye, and you look a little further away from the desk, to the floor by your father’s side.

Your mind refuses to register what it sees at first. It’s simply a large rounding object, a little furry and wet. Reality sets in as the features become clear, focusing in a slow motion that you note is more real than you had believed such a thing could be.

Your father’s face stares up at you from the floor, eyes wide and pointed up at the ceiling. You can’t move your eyes away from that startled expression, and only register the blood dripping across the floor in your peripheral vision. You hear a strangled noise and are surprised to find that it came from your own mouth.

The sound of quiet footsteps from inside the room snaps you out of it and you stumble backwards, suddenly terrified. The door swings open soundlessly. You know you should do something, run, scream, anything, but all you can do is stare at the disembodied head of your father staring sightlessly up at the office ceiling.

The body that moves towards you is fast, too fast. Human+. The glass is snatched from your hand as you finally look up into the eyes of your father’s killer – lovely blue eyes, far too close to your own. Your body keeps moving backwards with little other direction. You feel yourself starting to fall in the effort to get away from it all. Another sound escapes you, a cross between a sigh and a strangled scream. It’s cut off almost immediately by a strong (too strong) hand gripping your throat. Your mind stops working entirely as your fight or flight reflex takes over. It’s the only thing that makes your body struggle and flail before the blade comes into view and cuts mercilessly into your neck.

There is a moment of pain, the slight pain of a sharp cutting edge combined with the strangulation that has already made your lungs burn with need. Then he slices your spinal cord, and there is nothing. For a brief second your brain continues to function and you are aware that you cannot feel anything, and you are falling while your body is not. Then there is dark.

Kryptonite poisoning, cw: suicidal ideation

[notdreaming]

“This is how you honor our love, Kara? I gave you a choice to stand with me – to come with me – and you stab me in the heart by siding with these… these insects?”

There is genuine hurt in the voice of the man you love. He floats in the air above you, numerous scars on display over his chest and arms, more scars than those that you’re used to, the ones that mar a face that must once have been beautiful. The cape that sits around his hips billows in the arctic winds. You can’t help but think that it looks like a viral copy of your cousin’s, covering blue leggings and red boots as it does. There’s something about the way it clings to his stomach, like an integrated part of his own body. These are the thoughts that disturb you, even more than the sickening knowledge in the pit of your stomach that he is truly and irrevocably insane.

You channel the pain you feel into your fists, which pound at the tall metal structure designed to suck up the sun Sol’s energy. The whole thing seems to burn with the energy it has collected, energy that you now know is killing this system’s sun. He never told you about that part. In all of his pretty speeches about going home, he had convinced you that there would be no damage to the world you had fallen into. He must have known that you would never agree to help if you knew that getting your life back would cost an entire planet theirs. He lied to you. You loved him and he lied to you.

”Love”?! We never had love, H’El! All we had was your lies—“ Your voice cracks. You can hear the despair in it, but you hope that he can’t. “—And my hopeless, desperate dream I could see my parents alive again!” You break metal like your own words break your heart. You don’t know, really, if you truly loved him. You’ve never been in love before. You’re only sixteen years old, and everyone you’ve ever known is dead. But it felt like love, and the fury of having that too ripped away from you feels like a fire in your gut, waiting to eat you alive.

“But when I succeed, Krypton will not die and I’ll never have to come to Earth to sacrifice it at all!” He sounds as though he really believes that. It’s enough to make you nauseous.

“’If’ you succeed! We-- you,” you correct with another wrench of heart and metal, “can’t risk the lives of everyone on this planet on an ‘if’!” You make the mistake of looking up to meet his eyes. He looks so forlorn, so much like you feel. It only serves to make you angrier. What right does he have to feel anything at all when he lied to you, manipulated you, gave you hope only to have it mercilessly dashed?

“Wonder Woman, I just need a few more moments of cover until I can use my T.K. power to pull this star chamber down around H’El’s long, unkempt hair.” That’s the clone talking, though you pay him very little attention. He still scares you a little with the possibility that he might lose his mind and go on a mad killing spree like the clones of Krypton did. You can see the red light coming from his hands, at war with the blue light being generated by H’El’s psionic power.

“Then concentrate on the task at hand, Superboy! With Superman gone and the Justice League otherwise engaged, it’s all up to us.” Your heart wrenches again. It’s a wonder it can still do that, torn up as it is. Your cousin is in danger of his life because of your mistake. You don’t even like him that much. You do believe him, that he is your baby cousin Kal. That’s all you need to know, when it comes down to it. He is your family, the only family you have left, and he is suffering because you were a hormonal little fool.

You try not to focus on that. There’s a loud grunt that sounds like the clone – Superboy, they’re calling him – and then an explosion.

“By Rao,” H’El exclaims, “I did not think that was possible.” Your heart sinks as you realize that he doesn’t sound very upset.

“But the star chamber served its purpose. My ship is fueled and prepared to travel centuries into the past should I decide it necessary. Away from me! I have wasted enough time with fools and traitors.” That blue energy comes flying at you, and hurts your muscles about as much as it hurts your heart. How had things gone this horribly wrong? What did you do to deserve this? What did you do to deserve any of this?

You’re blown several yards from Wonder Woman and the – Superboy. They continue to argue with H’El, but you aren’t listening anymore. The only thing you register is that your cousin has returned from wherever he disappeared to and is joining in on the fight. You, on the other hand, find yourself staring at snow and trying not to cry. Any hope you had, that H’El was just misguided, that his heart was in the right place, that Kal just didn’t understand, was dashed away by that one blow. You hadn’t really believed until then that he would strike you. Why did you want so desperately to believe in a lie that you were willing to ignore the truth that was staring you right in the face? You know why. Because you’re an immature idiot child who ruins everything you touch.

What you don’t know is why you can’t seem to pick yourself up off the ground. The answer is nearby, in the form of a chunk of crystal kryptonite that must have blown off of the star chamber when it exploded. A grim idea forms in your mind, and it is welcome at just this moment. You struggle to your feet and, despite every instinct against it, grab hold of the thing. Searing pain starts in your hand where the crystal touches skin. It travels up your arm, making your eyes ache and your whole body feel weak.

You turn every bit of guilt and anger you feel into ignoring the sensation and finally rise, turning to face your former love. Somehow Superboy, Wonder Woman and Kal are further away from him now, a result of the fight continuing while you struggled with the kryptonite and yourself.

“H’El, no!” You manage to scream above the noise of the device and the arctic winds. He stops, about to enter the ship you had built together, and turns to you with a speed and expression of hope that make you want to die all over again. Every part of you is screaming that you can’t do this, but you must. You hide the crystal in your hands, clutched over your stomach. He won’t let you get close enough if he can see it.

“You’ve won,” you tell him, letting the true desperation show in your voice. You have to sell this, whatever it might do to your pride.

“You were right all along. I… I see that now. Everyone sees it.” It’s hard to miss, with the way the dying sun lights up even the night sky here at the north pole.

“Imagine… what you and I could do together… for our people.” It’s starting to hurt just to speak. You make yourself go on. “Please… take me with you. Take me—“

“—Home?” He finishes the sentence for you, smiling. It’s a lovely smile, a relieved smile. All you can really feel at this point is dizzy. “Gladly… gladly Kara.”

“Kara please, don’t do this!” That’s your cousin, too far away to stop you. He doesn’t trust you, you imagine. He has no reason to. You helped this madman destroy the planet he loves.

“For the love of Rao, do you people never shut up?!” You don’t turn to see what H’El does to them. You don’t have the energy to waste with something so futile. You muster up the last dregs of your energy and fly the short distance to the platform leading into the ship.

“Come to me, my love.” He welcomes you with open arms, catches you as you touch down on the platform. It still makes you feel warm inside. You think you feel tears falling down your cheeks, but you can’t be sure. Everything hurts.

“Understand, Kara, I did what I did out of love. For Krypton, yes, at first.” You bite back more tears. Not yet, just a few moments more… just a lifetime more, Rao, please.

“Kara please, put it down! Before anyone else is hurt!” You ignore your cousin’s pleas, for the most part. It’s nice to know that he can see what you’re doing, that he knows you’re taking responsibility for what’s happened. It eases the pain, just a little bit, of what you’ve already done. H’El continues speechmaking.

“But also for—Kara, are you ill?! You should have come to me – you know that through it all, the one constant has been my love for you.” His arms tighten a little around you, supporting your weight. You look up at him at last, the kryptonite clutched still in your hands. Now you know you must be crying, because you believe him. You believe that he loves you, even though he used you. You believe that you love him, even though you know what you must do.

“That is why,” you tell him quietly, “I am so very sorry.” Before you have the chance to delay any more, you shove the crystal forward with every ounce of strength left in your body, and some extra. You’re a little disturbed to feel skin, muscle, and even bone give under the force of your push. It takes your whole body, and your whole body feels the result.

H’El just stares at you, pain and betrayal clear on his face.

“You’ve been directing the temporal portals psionically,” you explain, still quiet. “I guess that’s why you needed Superboy to release the ship from the star chamber. Without you… they will close. Earth will be spared.”

His expression falls, something like acceptance in it.

“Yes,” he tells you, equally softly, blood dripping in an already large pool at his feet, “and Krypton will remain a ghost of a planet.” You feel hope, love, even the promise of future happiness die inside of you. He slumps, and you cradle his head in your arms, giving him one last embrace. You can’t feel the tears running down your face anymore – you can’t really feel your face at all. You’re starting to go numb with the pain.

“I wish, Rao how I wish there was another way.”

You hear his voice in your ear, though you can’t feel his breath.

“I… forgive you.”

You feel dead inside. Soon he will be truly dead. You know that you are likely to follow. It seems proper. You have paid for the damage you caused, and repent in death. What is there left to live for, anyway?

“I wish that meant anything at all to me anymore, H’El.” You let him go, and his body falls backwards into the vortex left by the portal’s collapse. “Rao forgive me,” you whisper to yourself, reaching out to catch him, pull him back, fall with him maybe. Thickly muscled arms wrap around your chest and shoulder, pulling you back into the icy wind of Earth’s arctic circle.

“Kara. It would have been glorious. We would have saved our people.” H’El’s voice fades unnaturally fast as the vortex takes him. Finally he disappears from both sight and time.

“He’s gone, Kara. Maybe forever.” Kal. Of course it’s Kal.

“Hopefully forever.” Your voice is surprisingly calm. You are dying. You welcome it. You turn to face the cousin who was an infant in your arms what feels like only a week ago. He towers over you, a reminder of everything you’ve lost in the crest and colors of your family.

“Kara… you saved us all. But at what cost to you?” You’re almost annoyed by the concern in his voice. You try to smile, but your mouth refuses to move. Your eyes are already falling shut against your will.

“Don’t see that I had any choice at all, Kal. Wasn’t about to leave things to my baby cousin… was I?”

You’re vaguely aware of those big arms catching you and holding you close before unconsciousness takes hold.

After dreaming

[walkthedarkpath]

[ Vergil's eyes had popped open as a hand moved from around the sleeping form at his side to push his hair from his face.

It took a moment or so, but slowly it dawned on him that dream was not meant for him. He knew that story, Kara had told him enough to catch the names even her own. Sitting up he grabbed the pocket watch he keeps by the bed looking at the time. Too early to get up. He'll find her after work.]

library

[walkthedarkpath]

Vergil was working, as he does every day. Putting away a few books when he noticed the head of blonde hair. His mind went back to the dream he had had a few hours before. He took a moment to decide if he should walk away or step closer... In the end curiosity always wins out. He still had a few books in his arms he had to put away but when he saw what she was looking over he spoke up the best ice breaker.

"You should look into herbal medicine. The cures of old are just as good and less side effects."

[notdreaming]

She looked up at her friend with a smile, a relief after frowning over textbooks.

"I want to make sure I understand the biochemistry of it. It bothers me how much medicine is experimental."

[walkthedarkpath]

"That is how humans work, trial and error. For the exparaments life expectancy has doubled in the last century. "

He explained as he sat down the books looking over the page she was on. "I am curious why medicine?"

[notdreaming]

She held it out so that it was easier for him to see.

"It's just something I'm interested in. People have been teaching me to help out in the infirmary, but I want to learn more. With my powers, there's a lot of good I could do."

[walkthedarkpath]

He looked it over casually. Nodding when she explained he nodded some.

"I see." He felt bad for her. That dream was much too vivid. The poor woman deserved better. His thoughts lingering on the dream a moment.

"That makes sense I suppose. But, will it make you happy?"

[notdreaming]

She glanced up at him, briefly confused. She didn't understand the look on his face.

"It's something I enjoy. Why?"

[walkthedarkpath]

He stood back to full height hands going behind his back. He wasn't sure she understood.

"Are you certain? A lot of people choose medine and become cynical. I just wonder if you have truely put thought into what makes Kara happy, over what makes Supergirl feel good."

[notdreaming]

Now she frowns outright, marking her page with one finger and closing the book.

"You've never called me Supergirl. What's wrong?"

[walkthedarkpath]

"It is your title is it not?" He asked seeing the frown. No that was not what he wanted. "It is merely a question, nothing is wrong."/He was well versed in lying its just how he does.

[notdreaming]

"It's a name that Terrans gave me. I never wanted it." She wanted it less now, having experienced her mirror self who took such twisted pleasure in the name.

[walkthedarkpath]

"They always give us names. It helps them separate us from them. It should be a pride." Did she ever tell him that name? Likely not.

Enclosure Spam

[mercurialize]

[Intending to not block her sun, Kylar stands above her invisible. The ka'kari is better suited for shadows, reflecting light is a new trick and one that seriously needs some work. The results are splotches of shadow that twitch like leaves in the wind, but not quite as naturally. But never a better time to practice than the present, right? His face turns visible before the rest of him.]

Hey.

[notdreaming]

[ She rises up on her elbows and grins at Kyle. This particular bit of magic definitely needs work, and she didn't even need superhuman abilities to see it. ]

Hi. I hope you aren't trying to sneak up on anyone with that.

[mercurialize]

[He lowers to a squat beside her, mirroring her grin.]

Not yet. Give me a week though, I'll get the hang of it.

[notdreaming]

How are you doing?

[ She rises to sit properly, and motions for him to have a seat next to her. No need to be rude. ]

[mercurialize]

[He'll take her offer and sit, legs crossed and back hunched forward.]

Oh, you know. Just great, going mad with the rest of this place, seeing things that aren't mine to see. Good old barge. How about you?

[He sounds all too cheery.]

[notdreaming]

The same, pretty much.

[ She's a little confused by his tone, but tries to ignore it. She's had a few of those dreams, but she doesn't know most of the people in them. ]

[mercurialize]

[It's a relief to hear he isn't the only one dealing with it. Some seemed to have missed their beauty sleep as of late, but it's more reassuring when someone you know is going through the same thing than all the passersby on the barge.]

So, you'll never guess what I saw.

[The cheeriness drops to a frown.]

Me. Which means it had to be yours.

[notdreaming]

[ She frowns at him, not making the connection at first. She remembers his 'death' better than her own. Then it clicks into place, her expression quickly changing from startled to apologetic. ]

Oh. I'm sorry, that was... not pleasant. [ She rubs absently at her neck, remembering the pain that plagued her after she woke up. ]

[mercurialize]

You're sorry?

[He shakes his head. She would say that. But they've been through this before.]

You haven't seen any... [How should he put it?] You haven't seen any of mine, have you?

[notdreaming]

Well it is mine. [ She's just taking ownership... or something. ]

No, I don't think so. Not yet, anyway. If this is the flood... [ There may be a lot more nightmares to come. ]

[mercurialize]

It is the flood. It has to be. People aren't supposed to see stuff like that.

[There's anger in his voice, but it's in no particular direction. Death usually doesn't scare him. But Kara was terrified so he was terrified, it wasn't an emotion he appreciated feeling.]

You're all right though? I mean, for now.