019 ☣ Open!

[fridgetothefire]

[Public Spam]

[She works with her hands a lot, now that she's in the maintenance crew. But there's a difference between fixing things and making things, and her occasional forays into invention in Aeris Navem left her itching to create again. Rather than indulging her inner engineer - who has a tendency to slide a little too easily from 'productive' to 'pragmatic' to 'paranoid' - Anya has her knitting bag out again, clacking plastic needles and all. She sets up in a common room, listening to conversation and people watching comfortably.

She's into her second skein when she abruptly realizes the design she's been replicating on some subconscious impulse: a dark blue and charcoal grey sweater with a herringbone pattern, subtle night camouflage for Cassel the cat burglar on nights when frigid high-altitude winds sliced through the floating city like razorwire. She groans heavily and flings her ball of yarn across the room in moment of pique. Which is a terrible idea, because now she has to collect and rewind the damn thing.]


[Spam for Erik]

[She wears a polka-dot dress because the line of it reminds her a little of the kinds of things she wore in Bargewell, with jeans and a comfy cardigan to hide her scars. She knocks on Erik's door and shifts from foot to foot. Her heart pounds faster than she wants it to, and she doesn't have to fake being nervous.]


[Spam for Lua, backdated to right after this thread.]

[When the conversation finally ends, she - doesn't run. She wants to, badly, but there are too many people who might want to waylay her if they saw her do that, and it would be out of concern, but she only wants one person right now. She leaves her communicator behind and walks briskly, deliberately to Lua's room, the only sign of her feelings a small tightness in her jaw. Once she's in her warden's room, her hands start to shake.]

Lua...oh god. I almost...

[And then she's crying.]


[Private to Alex, video]

[It's a little while after Alex and Raven's very public thread. Long enough to take a breather, short enough for Alex to still be pissed. Anya looks...uncertain. Not quite nervous, although her fingers are a little fidgety.]

So...what's the deal with Raven?


[Text to Charles, a few days after Raven's arrival.]

I'd like to talk to you sometime. Maybe tea again? Let me know if that's okay.

Comments

private/video

[tolaywaste]

[Alex is not ready to have this conversation. But on some level, he expected it. That's just how Anya is. She watches, and she makes note, and sometimes she meddles.]

[He owes her the truth. It just still makes him a little sick to talk about it. He's frowning, mouth tight in anger.]

That's kind of a broad question, Anya.

private/video

[fridgetothefire]

[She lifts one shoulder, gives him an unhappy, vaguely hapless expression.]

I don't know enough to ask narrow ones.

private/video

[tolaywaste]

[No, no, don't ask him to tell the whole story. Don't ask him to go through it all again. He's deliberately not thought about Raven, he's trying so hard to stay not angry now, but if he talks about it, it won't work.]

[He shakes his head slightly. But he's thinking.]

She's Charles's sister. Adopted. She left with Erik.

She was my friend. [Once.]

private/video

[fridgetothefire]

She's a warden.

[And that scares her, right down to her core, in ways she only half understands.]

[Spam]

[wecanavenge]

[It doesn't take too long to come to the door. There's only the faintest of pauses when he opens it. They haven't really spoken since the flood, and he's still - frustrated, a little angry, but it's difficult to maintain, now.

He's healthy again, in any case. And he knows he hasn't been avoiding her. So it's clear enough that she has, and clear enough that she's done. So he steps aside so she can enter.]

You look nice. [It reminds him of Bargewell, too.]

[Spam]

[fridgetothefire]

I'm really sorry.

[Her voice wavers but doesn't crack. She scoots in hugging her own elbows.]

I never meant - I didn't want to hurt you.

[Spam]

[wecanavenge]

I know. [He can say that with absolute certainty; he'd been in her head, too. Closing the door behind her, he hesitates half a second before reaching out, hand hovering near her shoulder, like he's asking permission or offering an invitation.]

It's all right, Anya.

[Spam]

[fridgetothefire]

[She smiles weakly, leans into the touch, then further until her forehead is thunked against his shoulder again, her shoulders shaking very lightly. It's not that she was really afraid of his reaction. It was just not a part of her world, getting caught and being forgiven. Not for eavesdropping or speaking out of turn or things she had no control over at all, like Pietro's antics. Endangering a mutant through carelessness would have been an unfathomably worse crime.]

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I - god, it's not about me, I know, I'm just - this is stupid. I just need a second.

[There's a thread of anger there, at herself, but she doesn't move away from him.]

spam

[patheticvillain]

[Cassel is wandering. He's not happy, not exactly, but this is a rare moment of very-very-close-to-happy that's leftover, like the aftereffects of some drug. It's been, in the grand scheme of things, a good week. He doesn't want to let that go, because next week will almost definitely be worse.]

[He barely looks where he's going, doesn't realize where Anya is until a ball of yarn flies half-out of the common room he's walking past and almost hits him in the head. He hesitates, glances up at her, then at what she's making. Memory hits him like a brick. The only thing he can do is look away from her, bend down, pick up the yarn.]

[He walks over and hands it back with downcast eyes, struggling to decide if he's feeling shame or regret.]

spam

[fridgetothefire]

I'm sorry - I didn't mean -

[She presses her face into the knitting and makes a muffled, wordless noise of mortified frustration. Even that - that much real emotion, that much flailing, she never would have shown Cassel two weeks ago. She doesn't know where they stand, but so many of her walls are just - down. She takes a huffing breath, lifts her head, and takes the yarn back with as much aplomb as she can muster.]

Thank you.

spam

[patheticvillain]

It's okay.

[His voice is unnaturally soft, his movements fluid and quiet instead of big and loud. He's moving like he expects to be hit, though he doesn't realize it. He knows on some level that Anya's dangerous.]

There should be some kind of protocol for this. [Which would have been a joke but he can't put any energy into it at all. It just comes out flat and tired.]

spam

[fridgetothefire]

Maybe a form to fill out. Little check boxes for what you were before, and during.

[She takes a breath, holds herself as primly as humanly possible.]

'Dear blank, please select all that apply, I would like to: never speak of this again, deflect and deny while remaining cordial, continue as we were, discuss this like adults, discuss this like two year olds, try to be friends without addressing it directly, or continue as we...could have been elsewhere.'

[Her posture breaks, and she breathes a little shakily. But the options are there, even if it took a terribly thin farce of a joke to lay them out.]

Not quite as excellent as death bingo, but somewhat in the same tradition. Marks on cards, ridiculous circumstances, et cetera.

Spam

[burnmythoughts]

[Jean almost steps on the yarn as she walks in, and her eyes fly to Anya before she offers a rueful grin. She still looks a bit pale, a bit frail, but the smile is easy.]

I hate when that happens.

[She kneels down, the movements slow and ginger, and scoops up what's left of the ball.]

Spam

[fridgetothefire]

[She still looks a little flustered, but she's settling.]

It's not a big deal. But thanks.

Spam

[burnmythoughts]

No problem. [She's slow to stand, but her smile doesn't waver.] Did you just get frustrated, or...?

[surrenders]

[Lua's never seen Anya break out of nowhere, but she doesn't ask questions, just takes her hands to sit her down and let her cry. Anya hands shake so hard she gives in to what she really wants to do and folds her into her arms without a word, waiting until she can breathe instead of sob to ask.]

It's safe, all right? Whatever happened.

[fridgetothefire]

[She hugs Lua tight, and when she can get words out, it's easier without letting go.]

I almost killed him. I almost. I never.

[surrenders]

[She doesn't care what it says that she's asking the next question first before asking for the whole story. She pets Anya's shoulder, careful of where she's been clawed, and pulls back a little bit so she can really look at her without Anya having to look back.]

Nobody hurt you, right? Who?

[Private]

[wedonot]

That's fine. Whenever's convenient to you.

[Private]

[fridgetothefire]

Okay. I'll come after my work shift, around four?

[Private]

[wedonot]

I'll see you then.

spam?

[canfindrope]

[Red doesn't even ask - she just stoops to the yarn, and starts helping to gather it up, lifting it to the woman.]

Here.

It's... pretty.

[persecutioncomplex]

[Anya starts to set up as soon as Touko thinks she should probably leave. No one else who's come through is at all interesting to watch, and all she wants to do is look. When the needles come out, she's stopped even pretending to be reading, staring over a book that no longer matters.]

Somebody's lucky.

[fridgetothefire]

I'm sorry?

[She's totally confused.]

[persecutioncomplex]

They trust you out in public with something like that. [She's thought about how many ways there are to kill a person since she came here. There are more than she could have dreamed up, and she's had to dream up a few that weren't your standard heroine deaths of wasting disease and drowning.]