025 ☣ private to the admiral + spam

[fridgetothefire]

[Spam]

[Anya is not taking Lua's disappearance well. She wraps herself in her father's cape and sits on her windowseat, staring out at the strange void beyond. For the first time, it seems more empty than amazing. She skips her maintenance shift and hides in the library, searching for the most out-of-the-way rooms and dim corners sheltered by dusty long-undisturbed stacks and reads Doctor Zhivago for the third time. She doesn't turn up to meals, grabbing snacks from the Dining Hall when she can't sleep in the wee hours of the night, subsisting off that and her emergency 'weird flood' stockpile rations. She doesn't call anyone else. She just wouldn't know what to say.]

[OOC: This is a catch-all post for anyone who would reach out to her after Jesse's announcement; replies may be either spam or network. She will probably answer.]

[Private to the Admiral; Voice]

I'm grateful that you decided to give me a chance. I've said it to other people, maybe it's time I said it to you. I know you probably don't give a damn if any of us like you, but there it is. I think your goals - as stated - are ambitious and worthwhile and that you're doing the best you can, even when things seem awful.

So I like you. But this is not a request. This is a fact.

You will not pair me with any other warden. When I graduate - and I will - you will give Lua whatever she was going to ask for, wherever in the multiverse she is. Because I wouldn't be anything like who I am if it weren't for her, because you made a goddamn deal. And I will hold you to it, one way or another. I know you know what I'm capable of.

Comments

[private]

[spetsnaz]

Are you mope?

[private, voice]

[fridgetothefire]

[After some deliberation, she answers.]

...yeah.

[private, voice]

[spetsnaz]

Is no good.

You will come, shoot skeet. If you do not know how, I will teach.

[private, voice]

[fridgetothefire]

I know a little.

[She hasn't practiced since Silent Hill, though.]

Where should I meet you?

Library

[halftheman]

[ With Tosh busy and Tyrion gone, the library abruptly had a lot more for Harv to do. That was fine by him, kept him busy. ]

[ The quiet stretched thin and quavery; the hum of the boat was ever present, but you got used to the library's brand of silence. It was never quite complete. Stay in there long enough and you got the pulse of the place; the smell of paper, the crash of that one busted cart with the bad wheel, footsteps and the murmur of covers rubbing up against each other as books were shelved. ]

[ When there was a new noise (steady breathing, soft shifting, a seat cushion scraping against linen) he knew he wasn't alone back here. ]

[ When he found Anya, though, he just stayed quiet, putting books on shelves and working. Presence if she wanted it, ignorable if she didn't. ]

Library

[fridgetothefire]

[She gets to the end of the chapter, marks her page with an old ticket to the London Eye that almost makes her tear up again. She holds the book between her chest and her knees, stares at a shelf. He's there, and that's. It's less awful than being alone, and also more difficult. Engaging people requires effort and decision making and being someone either constructed or vulnerable or some particular sharp-edged alchemy of the two. She doesn't speak.]

Library

[halftheman]

[ Harvey doesn't either. Books get put away, less hovering to do. He can't remember the last time he comforted anyone, though he knows keenly what it feels like to lose people important to you, at the vagaries of fate. ]

[ He thinks of Chris -- you just remind me of my dad -- and then immediately tries not to think of Chris. He is nobody's family. Two-Face reminds him of that, the longer he's nearby. Two-Face hates Anya, worse than he hates Chris and Cassel, worse than Ivy, worse than anyone on the barge so far. She's just bad news. Harvey chocks it up to the usual; anyone he likes Two-Face is almost obligated to hate, but it doesn't always work out that way. ]

[ In the end, he empties his cart, letting her work through her chapter, and eventually approaches. The next step? Well, the question is simple. ]

You want me to stay a while, or you want me to go?

[fridgetothefire]

I don't know.

[Her voice is wavery, a little choked. She really doesn't know. She tries to think through tactics - the emotional power of getting to be the comforter to someone lonely and isolated, the odds that she might lash out or slip up or otherwise say something wrong in her compromised state - but it all seems like so much work, suddenly. How does she even manage to think like that so much of the time?

She just wants to reject all of it, almost says fucking flip for it, why don't you, but she isn't quite that reckless. She hurts, but she's not really adrift, she has people who would hurt if she did something that stupid. Ben, Cassel, Erik.

She doesn't really want them around - they'd want to make it better, and they can't, not really. But being alone is full of so much silence to think in.]

You can stay, I guess. Unless you're busy.

[Spam]

[with_my_teacup]

You been missing meals.

[That'd be Sir Sitting in the silent dining-hall like a creeper at two am a lot over there-- Riddick's sleep schedule isn't actually one. He prowls the ship at odd hours, in odd places.]

[Spam]

[fridgetothefire]

[She startles, but not dramatically, then sags a little.]

Yeah. I've been eating. I just.

[She takes an apple, crunches demonstratively. It's easier than figuring out what to say.]

[Spam]

[with_my_teacup]

[He chin-nods.]

Had a warden come back once after he disappeared.

[And vanish again but the principle is sound.]

[Spam]

[fridgetothefire]

I know she could. I've told enough people to keep hoping.

[She knows she's a hypocrite. But Lua is gone, and even if she comes back, and Anya doesn't know what to do now with the way she feels being without her. Lua was supposed to be the one she could rely on.]

Were they a good warden?

[patheticvillain]

[Cassel has been looking for her since the announcement. He's been thinking about some things of his own, too, some plans he's got going, and so he's half-distracted as he looks. This is why he finds her in one of the quietest, dustiest corners of the library, he thinks; it's like looking for something, then when you look away and look back, you find it.]

[He sits down next to her in a ratty armchair, knees drawn up to his chest, eyes dark on hers. Doesn't speak.]

[fridgetothefire]

[She's sitting in about the same post, heavy tome wedged in her lap. She gives him a look, somewhere between watery and stoic. Her voice is subdued, but not flat.]

Hey.

[patheticvillain]

[He just nods, still doesn't say a word. What the hell is there to say? He's used up all his platitudes on people he doesn't care as much about, has expended his anger with Chris and Kon, is channeling his general post-port discomfort into a plan that (he honestly believes) will work, will keep Loki away from the people he loves. This is what's left for Anya: the bare-boned brittle exhaustion of him.]

[He isn't sure she'd want any of the rest right now, anyway.]

[Eventually he clears his throat.]

What would you have done if this had happened six months ago?

[fridgetothefire]

[Six months. After truth-telling, before rabies. Late enough to be hurt by it, cold enough to use it. She tells him the truth.]

Gone to Junko and made an offering of it. Let her rip me open until it didn't matter anymore what the pain was about. Used it to make her more my friend, in her awful way. Make her appreciate that I was almost as twisted. Enjoyed knowing she was worse.

[She really has come so far. Lua's doing, mostly.]

Spam

[burnmythoughts]

[Jean's still officially a resident of the infirmary, but she's allowed to walk around for brief periods.

She left immediately after hearing Jesse's announcement; the library isn't the first place she looks, but she gets there soon enough that she doesn't have to leave right away.

She smiles, when she sees Anya, soft and sad. She's sure she looks a bit ridiculous, bruised and battered in her nightgown, but that doesn't matter right now.]

How are you?

Spam

[fridgetothefire]

[She looks at Jean for a little while, bites the inside of her cheek, wonders what to say.]

Sad.

[Simple, honest, undramatic.]

Spam

[burnmythoughts]

[Jean nods, and gingerly sits on a stool.] Any way I can help?

spam

[persecutioncomplex]

[Touko, every night, is like Anya these nights. No one ever lingers here so late, and she's desperate to eat something after not having touched anything all day, so she's ripped into a bag of popcorn and is face-deep in it by the time Anya shows up. She wipes cheese stains on her skirt, hiding the bag in her lap, and stares curiously at someone else picking up her same habits. She doesn't need to stay away.]

What are you doing?

spam

[fridgetothefire]

[She's surprised to see Touko, but not shocked. She figures lots of people have their own reasons to aim for the odd times. She wonders if all the barge's hermits will ever settle out to an equilibrium of successful mutual avoidance. Maybe they already have, and she's messing it up. She can't care too much. She nods at Touko, doesn't say anything else until she asks her question, gives her a small shrug.]

I skipped dinner. I'm hungry.

[She finds an orange, starts peeling it in one long, continuous piece.]

spam

[persecutioncomplex]

[I should go, she has to hold herself back from saying. Anya has seen enough of her that's disgusting and messy and dirty and hasn't done anything yet, so if she stays, more that's worse can't happen.

She's vaguely aware something's wrong, puts it together with what she's noticed, heard, over the past few days, and knows that she's socially expected to comment, even if she wants to leave it alone. She leans over the table, still trying to hide her food.]

You didn't expect anything.

[ Handwritten note, Slid under her door. ]

[megamind]

[ Megamind delivers this sometime during the evening. He doesn't knock, he doesn't try and get her attention. It's a very plain missive, with his stark, precise handwriting. ]

[ To say that his talk with Creed and Iris got him thinking is an understatement. Better he realize eventually, though, than never. ]



Anya,



We haven't spoken since Toshiko's takeover, and it's pretty obvious why. I was a jerk, and you have no time for jerks. No inmate rightfully does. You've got enough going on without having to worry about people who are rude and inconsiderate when they're supposed to be helping you.

I'm sad to say I only realized my jerkness recently. You'd be surprised what you remember when you think about being small and powerless and afraid, and realize that you should have remembered that everybody else is too. I didn't, at the time, and I took it out on you.

I was wrong to say those things to you, and cruel. I was scared and frustrated and confused, and pretty full of my shiny new graduation. That doesn't make it better, and I probably should have realized this more than a bit sooner, but... I didn't.

So, for that: I'm sorry. Apologies are hard, but I owe you one. Probably one better than this, but when you're ready for that, I'll be around.

I know this is a terrible time for you, which is why I'm not calling you up or dropping by. I can't imagine I'd be a comforting presence. Losing a warden isn't easy - I assure you, having lost an inmate, it's no fun on the other side, either. I hope Lua comes back to you. I know it's hard to hold on to hope here, but sometimes it's all we've got.

If you've anything you'd like to ask of me, when you're able, I'll be glad to speak to you. I hope things improve for you -- and the rest of your journey to graduation is swift and painless.



Sincerely,

Megamind

Re: [ Handwritten note, Slid under her door. ]

[fridgetothefire]

[She considers it, for a long time. She thinks of Cass, as she always does when someone apologizes, and it's like seawater on a burn: stinging and bracing at once. Contrast: Cass was a friend, Megamind isn't. Cass was altered by rabies, Megamind was altered by - not nothing, but stress and pride and the terrible panic of being trapped in with danger, even if it wasn't directed at him. She knows something about the kind of decisions people make under all of those conditions.

He's right that it's a bad time. She does not feel...magnanimous. She feels cold, like Lua's absence is leaching away at the part of her that has haltingly relearned compassion. She imagines ignoring him, imagines dragging him through the details, listening to Wanda scream, resolving to save her. Having something to graduate for, emerging from hell, feeling cut down to the bone.

(She knows what that feels like now, thanks to Captain Hunt.)

It is, she admits to herself, a little surreal. She has been burned, strangled, tortured, gored, betrayed, and buried alive. Even according to her own particular ruthless scale, holding a grudge months later over one cruel remark is blatantly disproportionate.

On the other hand: Wanda, screaming.

He does, at least, grovel nicely. She can admit to herself easily enough that it's gratifying. He's sincere, too, as far as she can tell. She thinks about Castiel, the way she used his sincerity, twisting the knife of his guilt as often as she could. But he killed her, killed Bruce, made her live in terror and self-loathing over her worthless humanity all over again. She doesn't feel guilty over what she did to him. She would feel - not guilty, she decides, but small-minded, petty, if she gave Megamind the same treatment. She is vindictive when crossed, and she will make no apologies for it, but that does not mean she has to be petty.

And it will do no harm to have him as a friend instead of - whatever the word is, for the people she inconveniences herself to avoid but does not seek active vengeance on. It seems a terrible oversight that none of the languages she knows has such a word in specific.

All of which leaves her still at a loss for anything she wishes to say to him.

Several hours later, she finally sends him a brief text.]

How's Tosh doing?

Re: [ Handwritten note, Slid under her door. ]

[megamind]

[ Megamind isn't sleeping so well. He's up and down in the evening, nightmares waking him, making him remember Eddie's body, Barbara's bits -- the deck spattered with blood, the engine room turned charnal house. ]

[ It's why the text back is prompt. ]



She's well. Port didn't hit her as hard as others.

How are you?