[OPEN] shitty situations for all, and for all a good nighttime stab

[shoplifter]

who: Laura and you.
what: ... Trouble, mostly...
when: Now-ish.
where: Multiple Places! Mainly roof, outside of wall, and on the skytram.
warnings: Blood, violence, gore. Stabby things. EDIT: Also, talk of self harm in Ivar thread.

Laura fights near the wall, Laura takes a tram, Laura has a bad dream while looking for santa at night.

... Also, bloody situations and digging out of a giant animal corpse. It's gross, I know.

Bracket and prose both A-OK, and time and space can be bent, I'm chill. The last prompt is for medium injuries if you wanna hurt your character, because everyone loves getting stabbed by children. Or if your character is a magic healer, feel free to get stabbed real gud and heal up or what have you. (Basically I'm just avoiding severe injury or death before Christmas okay).


Shitty Situation A

[Red splatters on the snow when her claws spear through the first creature's head -- some sort of hybrid beast, one that hunts for food, whose pack has strayed far from the darker areas of the abandoned area and closer to the wall. They surround her because she looks like easy food in the colder, needier climate, and the fight is on. The child growls when they growl back, and she leaps on one of their backs, hacking and slashing with reckless abandon.

They get in their own claw marks, too. Laura's shirt and jeans get torn into, skin as well. It hurts awfully, but Laura's more offended that they're ruining her cool cat shirt.

Her cool neon hat goes flying off in the breeze, carried over sloping snowy hills.

When she kills the last beast, which is considerably large -- the size of an elephant, the alpha, maybe -- it falls right on top of her. Luckily, her claws were out, and... uh... if you're unlucky enough to have found her after the fight instead of during, you will be unfortunate enough to watch a small clawed girl burst through the top of the beast's ribs, covered in blood from her... tunneling...

Just. Um. Yeah. Victory, I guess.]

Shitty Situation B.

[Laura stands in a skytram car, one hand curled on a metal bar. She's covered in dry blood, head to toe. All of the other passengers keep a very far distance around her.

... She's trying to head to the clothing store.]

The One Chill Situation.

[She sits on the roof, binoculars in her hands, watching the sky skeptically as the daylight fades. It's pretty cold up here, but she doesn't seem very bothered, wearing a few jackets and a good pair of boots. Got a red nose, too, but otherwise undaunted by the weather.

She falls asleep up there by accident, curled in a sleeping bag she apparently bought just to do this very thing. Trying to catch any signs of a 'santa' figure in the night, it seems.]

Shitty Situation C. (alternatively: like father like daughter)

[Nighttime.

She rolls a little in her sleeping bag, plagued by bad dreams. Little unintelligble mumbles escape her, sweat on her brow and hands in tight fists in the slippery fabric. She jostles enough that the action figures tucked away with her topple out.

No... stop it...

[The rest is Spanish -- "don't touch me, leave them alone, dad, help me"--

If one attempts to reach out and wake her -- they better have good reflexes. Because she will jackknife immediately up with a hoarse scream, claws out and lunging to stab at her fantasy captors.]

Comments

that drawing!!!

[franciscoramon]

[ It's a relief, when Laura comes back looking, well... normal. Not like the bloody survivor at the end of some kind of horror movie. Cisco thinks the graphic tee and skirt combo is very fashionable, indeed - it certainly makes a difference as they are walking down the street, in terms of people not staring at them like they're debating whether they should call the cops.

The diner is a short jaunt away, and once they are there and ushered in to a shiny booth, Cisco gestures at the menu, says: ]

Get whatever you want. I'm sure, uh. Monster hunting works up quite the appetite.

[ And then, they would talk. Or not talk, if Laura had changed her mind. But at the very least, Cisco thinks, he's helped a little. It was only a very little, and not enough to really fix anything, but at least he'd made some difference. He's not feeling very hungry, himself - not after what she'd told him about where she came from, and all the nauseating implications that came with it. But he looks at his own menu, figuring he'll order something at least to make her feel less awkward (though he is probably overestimating Laura's ability to notice social awkwardness...) ]

[shoplifter]

[Oh, well, in that case — she orders a burger, a large fry, a large onion ring, and a large soda. Apparently being a small kid has no bearing on how much food someone can cram into their face. She seems pretty content with everything, slurping on her soda like she hasn't drank anything in a year straight (untrue, this glutton).]

... I wasn't hunting. They were.

[Just, you know. The mildest correction.]

[franciscoramon]

[ Cisco's eyebrows raise a fraction at the order. The cost doesn't matter, but is she going to make herself sick? Then again, she's a kid - their stomaches can handle anything. He doesn't comment, just gets himself a burger as well, waiting for the waitress to leave before he answers her. ]

Okay, okay, my bad. You're right. Monster fighting.

[ She didn't go out there looking to be attacked, or to get into trouble. Sounds like trouble just found her. And it was dangerous for her to be out there, but... from the sound of it, dangerous is just what she's used to. Cisco twists his hands together in his lap, wondering where to even begin. ]

Nobody's tried to do anything like that to you here, though, right? I mean, nothing like the people at the lab? Nobody's... tried to lock you up or hurt you or anything?

[ Despite the fact that she'd demonstrated she's more than capable of defending herself, making sure she's not in any current danger is Cisco's priority right now. ]

[shoplifter]

[... She considers it carefully, finally giving pause to her soda-drinking.]

No, not yet.

[A simple answer, but perhaps telling of her state of mind; she doesn't trust this place to remain a safe and comfortable living environment. Not when she's seen the things she has, or lived where she's lived. In her eyes, it's really just a matter of time before she's either running or standing her ground again.]

[franciscoramon]

[ It breaks Cisco's heart, that that is her answer. Better than a yes, sure. But that not yet. It hurts, mostly because he knows how it feels, waiting for things to fall apart. For things to go wrong, because things always go wrong eventually. The difference is, of course, that he hadn't thought that way when he was her age. He'd still believed the world was a grand adventure, that he was invulnerable, that the future was bright and he would be a part of it no matter what, and any obstacles that got in his way would be simple, and solvable.

The corner of his mouth dips into a frown, but he doesn't argue with her. He merely nods, silent as he tries to find the right words. ]

If someone does... you don't have to deal with it alone. I'll help. As much as I can.

[ It's not a promise she'll be safe in the future, or that there's nothing to worry about. Both of those statements would be lies. It's merely an offer, to be an ally when she needs one, if she needs one. ]

Did you have any friends you could count on, back home? Who helped you escape?

[shoplifter]

... The people who helped me escape are dead now.

[She tries not to think about it. A dark expression flutters across her face, but she focuses on the first half of that question now — thinks about Rictor and Gideon and Delilah, and it helps give her something so much better to look back at.]

I do have friends. Other mutants who escaped with me... The other kids.

[Carefully, chewing her thumbnail, she thinks of how to explain.]

We had to run; they wanted to put us to sleep, and we — wanted to live.

[franciscoramon]

[ Cisco swallows hard, giving a small nod and not asking how, or who it was. Whoever helped, though, he is grateful. Maybe... one of them would show up here one day. It wasn't impossible. Time and death weren't really obstacles, when it came to the portal. And if they ever did... Cisco would thank them, for doing the right thing, and helping this kid, and others. ]

I'm really sorry to hear that.

[ They're just words; they can't fix anything and he knows it, but Cisco wants to say something, so she knows that he heard her and that their deaths matter to him. ]

None of them are here, though, are they?

[ It's just a guess, but a shrewd one. If there were kids who had survived an experimental facility like that, who had plotted to break out like that, who ended up together in another unpredictable and potentially unsafe scenario (though Cisco believes this moon is a hell of a lot safer than Earth ever was), they would stick together, right? They would be inseparable, out of survival instinct if nothing else.

His stomach turns when she says put us to sleep; he lowers his hands and grips his knees so hard his knuckles go white. Like they were animals. ]

Of course you did. They- they had no right. Not to do any of it.

[ Right at that moment, their food comes, and Cisco can't even manage a tense smile for the waitress as she sets the plates down. He just waits until she is gone before he says: ]

Some people are just... evil. They don't think of other people like they're real. All they see is- is tools, or obstacles. But people like that are wrong. And they deserve to be stopped.

[shoplifter]

There is a girl with Delilah's face... She's not Delilah, though.

[She's a little disappointed about it, admittedly. It's not that she doesn't like Lucy — she just deeply misses her friends. It's hard to just suddenly be apart from them after living so closely with them all her life. They led a foxhole sort of existence together, after all.]

Do you have people like that, in your world? Evil people who pretend to be the good guys.

[franciscoramon]

[ Cisco's eyebrows raise at that. He hasn't encountered this sort of situation before, in this place, though he knows it is possibility. In a way, it's fortunate. He can't imagine how he would respond if a doppelganger of Barry showed up here, who had never met him. Or worse, one of Eobard. How horrible would that be! ]

Did anybody explain to you how that's possible? About the multiverse, and doppelgangers, and everything?

[ She seems like the sort of kid how would be happier having more information to explain something strange and unexpected. That sort of thing could happen, when you'd been controlled, abused, mistreated. She is probably a lot less comfortable with not understanding than a kid her age who hadn't been through the same things would be. ]

Yes.

[ He says it simply, but without hesitation. It's difficult to know how much he should tell her, how much he should keep private. Not for his own sake - that doesn't even register as a concern, at the moment. But there is a line he doesn't want to cross: he wants to offer solidarity, or understanding of a kind, but not make her feel like she has to comfort him. She's only a kid, after all, despite what she's been through. ]

I've gotten fooled by them before. And hurt by them before. Not like what happened to you. Different. But I know... [ He chews at his lip a long moment before he finishes: ] ... I know how scary it is when you don't know who might turn on you and try to hurt you next.

[ He pokes at his burger, appetite entirely gone, but shredding a bit of the lettuce just to give his hands something to do. ]

I think all worlds have people like that. Which totally sucks. But... all worlds have got good people, too. People who are trying to make stuff better. And- and there's more good people than bad people, I think.

[shoplifter]

[She nods at the question — about the multiverse, and all that. Stark had been a lesson in that, anyway; she'd met both of them, and they were clearly different enough for it to be a confounding yet clear case of weird dopplegangers. The rest of his response, though? The rest is more interesting to delve into. She eats slowly, slower than she usually does, taking in anything he's saying. Her knees are pulled up close to her chin as she considers him over them.]

I'm trying to believe that.

... What did they do to you?

[franciscoramon]

[ He's glad that she nods, not because he would have minded, explaining to her, but because it means someone else has taken the time to do so. That she's not completely without good influences, in this place, and people willing to help her, even if only by telling her how something so abstract works.

Her question makes him freeze, midway through tearing at the lettuce. Cisco lifts his eyes to look at her, chewing at his bottom lip. It would be out of the question, telling a random child - a "normal" child - about all this. But that sort of child wouldn't have asked in the way that Laura does. For them it would be curiosity, of the same kind that lots of kids feel about the world in general.

Laura's interest seems different. There's a personal stake in it, for her. She is someone isolated, who has been hurt a great deal. He'd made the choice to tell her he'd been hurt, too. It's fair for her to ask what he means by that. And he thinks she deserves an answer, as hard as it is to give it. ]

He, um. Killed me. [ Cisco will at least spare her the how, though he doesn't doubt that she's been exposed to worse, already. ] I'm only alive because I'm lucky, and someone time traveled and undid it. But um. You see, I'm, um. We're not called mutants, in my world, but... I'm a metahuman. And instead of- of healing fast like you, what I can do is... remember stuff other people can't. So I remember it, even though there was a redo, and the second time, I didn't die.

[ Cisco gives a tiny shrug, apologetic. ]

I know it's... confusing.

[shoplifter]

[She listens with keen interest, not looking stunned or unsettled by his story — not about dying, anyway. She's so used to death at this point, it's hard to react in the way a normal, decent human being would. She'd worry about something being messed up in her head, if she knew there was anything out of the ordinary about that to begin with. He's alive, that's what matters.

... And she does feel for him. It sounds like it was all a terrible thing to endure.]

Metahuman...

Do you get chased, too? For being metahuman.

[franciscoramon]

[ There is something a little strange, about her silence and complete lack of surprise as she listens. He'd been worried about the opposite - that she'd be confused, or worse, distrustful because she would assume he was lying. But she just takes the story at face value, even though it involves murder and time travel. Perhaps he shouldn't be surprised, given what she is and what she's lived through, but... he is. ]

No.

[ He says it softly, but right away; it would be cruel to lie, and he wants her to know that every world isn't as horrible as hers. ]

Metahumans are still really new. Nobody knows what to feel about us, yet. It's possible... I mean, I can imagine it getting to be like it is in your world, someday. Or maybe it won't. But no. I've never been chased.

[ It would be simpler to leave it at that, but he adds: ]

Then again... it's not like anybody knew I was a meta, back home. I kept it a secret, from everybody. I'm still keeping it a secret, here. From most people. But I know... I can tell you wouldn't use it against me.

[shoplifter]

[A long pause, as she digests the information.]

We're the last mutants, I think. My friends and I. We're almost... 'extinct'.

[Which is why it's important for them to keep living. Keep fighting.

Not in the way Transigen wanted — but in the way of survival, of need.]

... I have a good memory, too. [She says it after a tense silence, and her lips twitch into a bit of a smile.] It is probably not as good as yours... but I remember words and patterns... The scientists didn't know. They thought I wasn't very smart.

[Considering they list her as an IQ of dull to superior intelligence, they really weren't sure where the hell to categorize her. She's got a great pokerface, you see.]

[franciscoramon]

[ A furrow forms between Cisco's brows. The last mutants? Had that been a lie, one of the scientists had told her and her friends, to make them despair? Or is it the truth? What would even cause that? In Cisco's world, people with powers were so new, but he's never heard of a world that had them where they started to die out. It's not of immediate concern, but he files the information away, just in case it ever becomes a problem - Laura gets sick, or something like that. ]

There are lots of mutants here, though. On this moon. Mutants, and metahumans, and special people or all kinds. Enough of us that if anyone tried to control us... they'd have a hell of a fight.

[ He can't promise her there won't be more violence and betrayal and exploitation in her future, but he can at least try to do this. To make her feel less alone. Let her know that, even though he's not technically a mutant like she is, that he's on her side. ]

They underestimated you. People underestimate me, a lot, too. 'Cause of how I look, and talk, and all kinds of stuff. It used to really bother me, but then I realized it just makes it easier to surprise them later. And that makes it so worth it.

[ Cisco looks down at his mostly untouched food. Despite knowing about her powers, what she's been through, that she can take care of herself, he still worries about Laura going out and getting into trouble like she did earlier. She might get hurt. What if something interrupted her healing powers? Or something went wrong with her claws? It wasn't worth the risk, tempting fate like that. ]

Listen, I know it's not as quiet and alone as being outside the walls, but if you ever need a place to be by yourself for a little while, without anybody looking at you or talking to you, you can come to my workshop, okay? I'm there a lot, but it's pretty big. You can just show up and say you wanna hang out, and I'll do my work and not bother you. There's loads of fun machines and old bits of junk to play with. I'm bringing stuff in all the time to break apart for materials, so you can smash some old junk or look through the boxes of components or play with the blowtorch-

[ Cisco stops, realizes that maybe he should make it clear that that was a joke, adds: ]

-I'm just kidding, no playing with the blowtorch. That's the one rule. But everything else is fair game. And you're always welcome.

[shoplifter]

[It's... very nice. It's nice to have these people who barely know her offer help — Tony Stark, Peter Quill, Taako, Poe, among so many others. It reminds her of the Munsons, and that worries her more than a little... but they are all very capable. So she tries to remember it, that it's not going to end the same way it did for an innocent little farm family...

This is good. She's free of the tiny cement rooms, free of the drugging and surgeries and need to escape. So maybe it's okay to take the offers of those who just want to help. And not only that, but other people with powers are here; many people who understand well enough.

With a slight smile, she nods, turning back to her food.]

... I'll visit. I'll visit your workshop.

[And maybe, maybe, not play with the blowtorch. Maybe.]