Anya Lehnsherr | Earth 97400 (
fridgetothefire) wrote2015-06-28 08:49 pm
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074 ☣ Snicker-snack
[Public video]
[The post comes thirty, maybe forty-five minutes after Kara's. Even with the major broken bones and butchery repaired, from just the shoulders up, Anya looks an absolute wreck. She has a swollen, mottled lump at her temple, ugly purple dripping under her skin like a watercolor stormcloud. Her throat is bruised too, the wide brumous darkness there slashed through with line of red lightning, gleaming and raw rather than simple rusting scab, where she thrashed against the rough iron wire binding her neck. Her mouth has a dab of blood that wasn't all washed away, her lip ragged where she chomped partway through it. Her hair is a sweat-matted mess. Most of all, though, is the look in her eye, an unhinged lurching snarl.]
This. Is done. Now. This thing, with Dean, it's me and him, and we are square. Whatever private wars you've got to settle, I don't care, but any one of you touches him in my name - no vengeance. None.
Or I will take it out of your fucking hide.
[She is not entirely sane right now. And she is not even remotely fucking around. The feed cuts out. And then, fifteen seconds later, still broadcast to everyone.]
Including you.
[Private to Ricki]
[Slumped, quieter]
...except you, I guess. Sorry.
But please don't.
[Private to Stiles]
[Also quiet, eyes downcast, exhausted.]
If he can't be bothered to tell you, I think he thought I was the admiral. That he could get free, save the people here. I know you have to do something, I know you'll do. Whatever you decide is best.
But I'd like to be. Informed.
[Private to Iris]
Thank you.
[Infirmary spam]
[She stays there about thirty-six hours, too worn out to do very much, letting the minor surface wounds that didn't get mended with magic stay cleaned and bandaged and iced. She'll see visitors if they come, will be wan and weary but lucid, without the vicious freneticism of the immediate aftermath. After that, she can't stand it any longer despite the advantages, retreats to the sanctuary of her cabin.]
[The post comes thirty, maybe forty-five minutes after Kara's. Even with the major broken bones and butchery repaired, from just the shoulders up, Anya looks an absolute wreck. She has a swollen, mottled lump at her temple, ugly purple dripping under her skin like a watercolor stormcloud. Her throat is bruised too, the wide brumous darkness there slashed through with line of red lightning, gleaming and raw rather than simple rusting scab, where she thrashed against the rough iron wire binding her neck. Her mouth has a dab of blood that wasn't all washed away, her lip ragged where she chomped partway through it. Her hair is a sweat-matted mess. Most of all, though, is the look in her eye, an unhinged lurching snarl.]
This. Is done. Now. This thing, with Dean, it's me and him, and we are square. Whatever private wars you've got to settle, I don't care, but any one of you touches him in my name - no vengeance. None.
Or I will take it out of your fucking hide.
[She is not entirely sane right now. And she is not even remotely fucking around. The feed cuts out. And then, fifteen seconds later, still broadcast to everyone.]
Including you.
[Private to Ricki]
[Slumped, quieter]
...except you, I guess. Sorry.
But please don't.
[Private to Stiles]
[Also quiet, eyes downcast, exhausted.]
If he can't be bothered to tell you, I think he thought I was the admiral. That he could get free, save the people here. I know you have to do something, I know you'll do. Whatever you decide is best.
But I'd like to be. Informed.
[Private to Iris]
Thank you.
[Infirmary spam]
[She stays there about thirty-six hours, too worn out to do very much, letting the minor surface wounds that didn't get mended with magic stay cleaned and bandaged and iced. She'll see visitors if they come, will be wan and weary but lucid, without the vicious freneticism of the immediate aftermath. After that, she can't stand it any longer despite the advantages, retreats to the sanctuary of her cabin.]
[video; private]
[video; private]
I didn't want to rush it just because he was going. We're going to have the time, and - I trust him, and he trusts me, that that's gonna be true.
[video; private]
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I'll marry him and fuck other people, I guess.
[Alex. She will fuck the shit out of Alex and they'll both cuddle Ben later. It's a good plan B.]
[video; private]
A husband and a friends with benefits?!
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But he knows I never could.
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[She chokes up, a little, gets another twisted little smile.]
He used to talk in fairy tales, when he didn't know how to say something. That's how we met.
These?
[She traces a finger along the thick black outlines of her stained-glass style tattoos.]
They're based on a story he made up about me.
[They are a fairy tale. They built themselves one together, made it real, about lost princes and princesses, finding ways to be stronger, to live free.]
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[True and not true; it hurts, but good, remembering.]
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[Ben feels the same way about Alex, she's pretty sure, even if she doesn't. Or the same, but differently.]
Not just like that. Nobody else could ever be him. But I could fit with someone else another way.
[Cassel, she thinks, her brother in so many worlds, her not-twin, her cheshire grin. Dean, who matches her horror for horror, conviction and sacrifice and bottomless drive.]
[video; private]
'Cause I always thought soulmates sounded kind of sad. If there's only one person you can be happy being with, then what happens if you never meet 'em or if they die or if they don't feel the same about you? I like it better thinking that no matter how much I love someone, I'm not gonna be unhappy forever if I can't have 'em.
[video; private]
Or if I'd never met him. But if I hadn't I don't think I'd be me at all, not the way I am now. But maybe I could have been someone else, really close, somebody who fit into someone else. Maybe we made each other soulmates, helping each other grow. We did a lot of that. Like trees close together getting their roots all tangled up.
[video; private]
... You got a way with words, Anya.
[video; private]
Ah. Thank you, I guess.
[video; private]
[She leans forward to rest her head against the side of Anya's headboard, looking down at her and Johnny.]
Mason weren't my soulmate. I loved him so much, though.
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You have a way with words sometimes too, you know.
[A different kind. Cutting right to the core of things, the bit that matters.]
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