thisavrou_log | My universe will never be the same

Entry tags:

My universe will never be the same

Who: J and everyone else
When: Backdated to mid-May!
Where: Several locations: X-men mansion, R5, Ingress Complex, R1.
What: Peter leaves and J moves out. She's briefly homeless.
Warnings: CW: for talk about and endorsing the drug use in thread with Nihlus.

I. X-mansion

It's like an explosion when the news of recent disappearance reaches her. A raw and violent emotion of sheer anger radiates from her, stemming from under all the muscles and bones. Almost as if something within her core had broke down and started to spew the toxic, only that can be source for this kind of pure hurt. A small, twisted yet humorous part of her feels pity towards the telepaths living in the house, she certainly wouldn't like to be in their shoes right now.

Though surely they must be too busy with dealing their own sorrow and hurt to notice the ugly darkness spreading in the upstairs.

J doesn't cry. In fact not a muscle moves to betray the calmness on her face. There's no trace of frown nor does her lip quiver the slightest. Because aside from the anger she feels simply just very foolish. She's been a fool enough lower down her weapons for someone else. Fool to think that she had been on top of the situation. Or then maybe outer serenity was result of a shock. Shock from having a heartbreak, who knows. But the fact is that Peter is gone and there's nothing anyone can do about it. And to J it meant that there was only one option left for her. She walks to her own room, pulls a small suitcase underneath her bed and starts packing. It only takes few quick moments for the suitcase to get full as she mostly throws clothes that are closest to her into it without giving any of her actions much thought. Even using TABS doesn't come across her mind.

After she's done with her suitcase J slams it closed, getting ready to leave but that's also when her eyes catch a sight of her own reflection on the dressing mirror and stops. She takes a moment to look at herself through the mirror, straightening her posture and fixing her hair. But then, out of nowhere, she loses some of her poise as the corners of her lips curls down. The sudden sour expression only fuels the anger within her as she grabs the glass ashtray from the table and tosses it at the mirror, breaking its surface. The broken mirror shards on the floor satisfies her momentarily and she storms out of the room. The mansion's walls are all rotten and air full of poison. There's no other choice for her than to leave.

II: Bar

As cliche it might be the first place where J goes after leaving her home is a bar somewhere in the forgotten corners of the Region five. Despite the shabby appearance of the place, with its all old and dated decor and smoky air, it's nearly full of people who're after cheap alcohol. J, who very typically is wearing and evening dress and neck covered in shiny jewelry, stands out in the crowd like a sore thumb and few heads turns to look at her with a questioning look as she strides across the hall right towards the bar counter. There's learned casualness in her body language and if she's aware of the odd looks she gathers she doesn't show it. After ordering a drink from the bartender she sits down on small table near the counter, settling into role of an observer.

She stays there for a good while, hours blending into together. With hazy eyes she continues to watch the people around the bar through a faint green smoke that raises from the half-full ashtray. It's late and the lot of people have come and left the bar, some which she had known and some not. Tapping her empty glass with a sharp painted finger she takes a lazy moment to let her eyes move from person to another until she's gone through the entire pub. She counts to three in her mind, stands up and walks slowly back to the bar counter to refill her empty glass. But instead of addressing the bar staff she turns to the person next to her and gives them a light poke.

"Hello, sweetie." She greets lips curling into coy smile and nods at their drink. "Mind getting poor girl one of those?"

III: Ingress Complex

Now, this is an area that J is strangely enough unfamiliar with. There simply has been no reason for her to visit the place since arriving to Thisavrou. Even now she doesn't have any clear reason why she's there. More like it's conclusion of lot of small, rather bad ideas that she's let her feet and mind, that's still drunk from stinging bitterness, lead her to where she's now. Of course, there's no denying that the alcohol she enjoyed earlier didn't have anything to do with her current state of mind or decisions.

There's nothing that can be done about people leaving, J knows that. She's seen countless amounts of people disappear into thin air during her time away from her own world. And while no one has been able to pinpoint the exact reason how and why it's happening, other than that it's linked to Ingress' and its malfunctioning. So who knows, maybe she can find answers here. Or at least have angry chat with the scientists, anything that'll calm her down. And the other reason for coming here is the hope that they'd be able to help her get rid off the flame that's burning inside her. This adventure of hers with so called 'superpowers', or gifts as the people in the mansion would say, has lasted far too long and it's time to put an end to it. Of course, losing the flight and fire would also work as a way to sever the last ties to the people she had associated with before.

There's also a much darker thought lingering somewhere back of her mind but she's not going to pay that one attention.

J gets to wander around the Ingress Complex for a good while, lost and looking for places she probably shouldn't, before it attracts the attention of some Savrii scientists who then approaches her. It doesn't take more than few word exchanges between the groups before the tones raise and turn more aggressive. Some part of J knows she shouldn't be getting in the argument with the Savrii, especially when the parasite from Asteroid was still on the loose, but the alcohol is numbing the voice of reason.

IV: Outside

It's another late night, the morning is only couple of hours away from dawning -- if you can call it that in this world, and J's standing all alone somewhere at Region one's streets, leaning on the streetlight with a smoke in her hand. Once again she's dolled up from head to the toe, dress fine and glamorous, face painted beautifully -- but instead of her usual confident and charming smile her expression is strangely more withdrawn.

"♪ ♫ It was cold outside of Tiffany's
I was shivering in the storm
I walked in and asked a gentleman♫ ♪"

She sings softly to herself between inhaling and exhaling the smoke, voice barely loud enough to carry to the other side of street. The slow and quietness accompanied by the numb expression makes the song sound much more bittersweet to compared to its original upbeat and humorous tone.

"♪ ♫Could I plea-ease keep warm
He asked me how come a baby doll
Has no comfy place to go
So I told that kindly gentleman
My tale of woe♫ ♪"

In any other time she'd probably laugh at the similarity of her situation compared to the one in the song but right now she's far too tired at that, even if it feels like her whole stay in this universe has been one big joke. Plus her wallet has recently grown far more thin that what she'd prefer. So, whenever it happens that a person walks past she raises her voice to more audible, trying to catch the attention of a potential audience.

V: Wildcard

[You know the drill! Create your own adventure. Both prose and brackets are fine, I'll match.]

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That makes J raise her head a little from the pillow and look at Shepard's back as she walks to the door. The corners of her lips twitches downwards as she mulls the words in her thoughts. It's a innocent comment, joke maybe. There's no way Shepard would know just how right did she hit. As far she's aware only Peter and Lavellan knew about her hidden powers.

"I can do that, you know." She mumbles absentmindedly and drops her head back down against the couch's cushion. "Light things on fire."

She lies down, eyes staring at the ceiling as the sense of tingling weight returns to her limbs, previously numb from drunk. "Do you know what happened to Mr. Miles?"

There's a pause in her step, and she looks back at J — before walking on, continuing as if there wasn't anything unusual about what she just said.

"Oh, yeah? Guess it comes with the territory. You're every smoker's best friend."

It was hard to discern just what J had meant, but prying directly was rarely the best approach when it come to her. The second question, however, has her pause, mid-coding J into the system.

"What do you mean?"

He disappeared. Like so, so many others.

"Hah," a soft laughter. No further questions asked regarding her statement so she'll just take the offered joke. Somethings are better to left untouched for now. She'll learn eventually, if her stay in this apartment with her for long.

Strangely enough, she'd much rather focus on the other subject despite the loaded pain behind it. Mr. Miles had been the first one to break something in her and pushed her forward with fragments of wisdom and companionship. All the feelings of loneliness and longing that his disappearance left have all been nicely piled up inside a bottle, lid forcefully shut not to be open. If she had only known back then that it'd bee just first of the many.

"Back on Moira he fell inside of Ingress." Not the most usual ways to go as far she knows. But then again, does anyone even know what happens to those who're no longer here. "Sans told me about it. He was there when it happened."

Half-press, her finger judders to a full stop on the haptic keys.

"Fell?" That, she hadn't heard. "Where was the Ingress opening programmed for at the time? Did Sans see?"

A gloomy, old, unexamined melancholy inched its icy fingers up, over her heart. Disappearing friends was practically par for the course with the Moira, and here on Thisavrou — but normally, it wasn't observed.

She gives a very lousy shrug as a response. "It was while we were around the slavery-planet. He and Sans were there near the thing and he just.. Fell," she mumbles. Sans hadn't actually told her much of it, or then she had been too upset to listen. There had been a good time when J had blamed Sans for all of it, as if he had been too lazy or something to help him.

"Who knows where he is now. Maybe he's home." Or then maybe he's inside of the machine, just like the new captains were for such a long time. Stuck there forever now that Moira is no more. "Maybe that's what happens to everyone when they disappear."

There is another heavy pause on her part and she closes her eyes. "He promised to take me with him to his home, you know. Once we'd reach the end."

Slavery planet-- the mini-colony. While half of everyone else had been foisted into some bizarre slave ring, the other half had led the rebellion, freeing everyone they could, attempting to destroy the awful economy of the planet where they couldn't.

She, on the other hand, had been thrust into cryo. Lucky, maybe — everyone else who'd experienced the major shift had ended up being owned by someone, even if just temporarily. It stung that she hadn't been able to get a piece in for that. Slavery all of its forms was something of a sticking point for her.

But as for Miles? Shepard had only known he'd disappeared while she'd been on ice. She wonders what really happened — what Sans really saw. Did he tell J the edited edition? Was she really hearing the whole story? Not for the first time, she wishes she'd set up communication with Sans before he left, as unlikely as it was. An e-mail. Something. Anything. There was so many questions since.

"Maybe." Realistically speaking, they had no answer. And if Miles had gone home, he would remember nothing of them.

The idea of taking someone with you, though — that was a new thought.

"Did you want to go?"

Yes, she had. Only now that the option has been taken away from her she realizes just how much she wanted that. Of course, there had never been certainty that it was even possible. Still, there had been hope.

"It meant I wouldn't have to go back." A more calculated answer, there's no need to dig into that wound too deep right. "Maybe he would have made me a princess of his dwarf kingdom."

"Did Sans give or say anything to you before he left? Peter got his stinky hoodie."

"Are you telling me you haven't been a princess this whole time? Had me completely fooled." It's a light jibe, something to hopefully pull them both back from the moment — from missing too much.

But J doesn't stop there. Next, it's on to Sans. Miles, she'd known as an acquaintance, as a nearly-friend, but Sans...

"He asked if I wanted to go with him."

Shepard might have as well hit her with a rock. So hard that reply lands on her, enough to not take the grab of the lighthearted joke thrown at her direction. Sans had asked Shepard to join him before leaving. He had wanted to have her with him. Not Peter, not Tony and certainly not her.

Empty promises and bittersweet words ring her ears and all she can think is: why.

With stiffness to her body, she sits up from the couch and stares into the glass Shepard had brought earlier. "I think we both can agree you should have gone with him." Her hand reaches out to grab the glass and she downs the drink in it with one go. "Why didn't you want to go?"

"Because..."

It was harder, now, pinning down why. At the time, it had been easy to brush away the casual offer as a joke. Now, it might have been exactly that: a joke, because he'd always known what her answer would be.

Because she'd always held on fiercely, no matter what. Because she'd always been the protector, tenaciously holding on, even when there was precious little left to hold on to.

"I still had a responsibility. To my-- to our crew."

"Bullshit," comes a snippy remark as she places glass back on the table, using little bit much force than intended. "This is what I meant when I said you should think yourself more. You don't own any of us a shit."

They all might have been agreed to terms to of Captains and work together when stepping inside Moira, but that contract hadn't been binding. Lot of people left after growing tired of the bullshit they were all being put through. What they're still being put through.

"You would have been spared from so much."

"It's not about owing anyone, J. It's about what I can do — what I should do."

As for being spared? She only shakes her head, scooping the glass off the table, and making her way over to refill it.

"It's not just about living happily 'til tomorrow. Sometimes, you have to stay put. Take a stand."

"But that's what you just said! Responsibility, as if you were required to do shit!" She finds her voice growing louder the more she argues. The bottled anger and sadness surrounding the subject "Sans" has now been spilled and she can feel a bitter and hard bit getting stuck on her throat.

"You don't have a responsibility for anyone." You don't have responsibility for me, is what she leaves unsaid in all her frustration. "You don't need to do anything to anyone or take a fucking stand or whatever you're talking about. Sans certainly didn't! Nor did Mr. Miles or anyone else."

"I don't care what anyone else did, J." Her voice stays firm, unwavering. "Responsibility comes in all shapes and sizes. If I'm alive, and able, then I'll keep doing whatever I can to make sure everyone around me is, too. I'm not going to leave just because there might be something better out there."

"Or is it out of fear and loneliness?" Her lips move before she can put any thought into her words. They had talked about this briefly before hadn't they? About loneliness and feeling of not belonging in the world around them. For Shepard it had been because of future and for J because of past.

"You'd rather stay and get hurt and used just to keep hanging on the idea of responsibility? So that you'd have a illusion of a purpose rather than face the other option?"

Edited (wrong icon;;) 2017-09-17 10:31 (UTC)

"No." That part is easy, at least. "J, what I do doesn't have anything to do with fear. It's about doing whatever I can to support people while I can. Doing right by the people in my life. I don't give a damn what others have done, or what others expect me to do — I'll always stick to what I believe I should."

There's a pause, as she looks J over carefully, eyes watching her temperament.

"Does it bother you that much? That I won't just give up and stop caring?"

Yes. It bothers more than she can put into words. The sentiment goes against all what she's seen and learned during her life. She fights against the whole world that she's built around her. In the past, she had once latched on that very tricky illusion while allowing others use and walk over her.

Then again, Shepard has hardly been the first one to defy that but the only one who's left -- and who hasn't hurt her. But that's probably because she hasn't given her a chance to do so. Yet.

"No." Controlling her temperament had always been.. varying. She succeeds in it quite well for the most of time. Save for times when she was emotionally roused and hurt. Just like now. Her fingers curl into fists and then unclenches them.

"I just prefer people not trying to hide behind some holier than thou bullshit to cover up their own flaws. Why do you want me to stay here?"

"Because I'm not going to let you burn a bridge just to prove a point. You need somewhere to stay — I have room. It's that simple, and I'm not going to let you cut off your nose to spite your face."

There's a pause, but it's more for J than for Shepard, who hasn't shifted in her stance, expression firm, unyielding. "I'm far from perfect, J, but I don't use other people to make up for them. You're here because I offered it to you — you're here because I'll do what I can to help you; for no reason other than that."

"If I've learned something in life it's never to take a freeloader in. The bitches will ruin your life," she calls after. Shepard's declaration was nothing unexpected from her - it was more of her good natured nonsense. They had been in this situation before, back when they had returned from the planet with bugs and J had regained her voice. She had questioned her reasons and got the exact same reason: it's just the way she is.

Well, maybe this is the way J is, too. Horrible and mean, easy to fool.

"You'll end knocked up."

There's silence after J's pronouncement, and Shepard's expression, previously stolid, melts away into something closer to bemusement. For a moment, she seems at a loss, before she finally offers, with the barest flicker of a smile:

"I'll take my chances."

She holds her stare on Shepard during the silence, knowing completely that her words went way over her head. Her mouth opens when the mood lightens up, turning into more softer one compared to earlier stressful tone.

"I-" For a quick beat J looks like she's about to say something back to her, to continue her argument. But there is also a small temptation to tell her what was going on. What had she intended to do at Ingress Complex.

But that is still too big of a step to take.

"So. I guess you have only one bed?"

"I do. But you're welcome to use it whenever I'm not in it. For the rest of the time," and here, she gestures to J-- or at least, under her. "The couch folds out into one."

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My universe will never be the same

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