( Look, if it comes down to yourself or someone else... well, what are you going to do? The human instinct for survival is a complicated, difficult thing, impossible to overcome.
Nobody wants to die.
(It'd been like a drug. Her life had been normal, astonishingly so. Wake up, go to work, go home, relax. Nice, safe.
Incredibly boring.
And really? Death dreams? Of all the powers? So not fun. Can you blame a girl, can you really, for liking that first hit of power, the rush of falling into chaos, finding a new life - a better life. She was a contender. The champion. One more round and-
Well. It doesn't matter now. Whatever this place is, it isn't where they were and she was a secretary, miss note taker, miss communication. It'd been important to note little details, and here there are only big ones, like the air around them and the weight of time.
- And that little observation habit, the one that let her tell the guys in back when someone was coming in with murder in their eyes (figuratively speaking) or not worth their time? It came in such use when she started surviving, winning. Figuring out who the weakest ones were, the easiest ones to pick off. Like Lily, poor girl. So messed up by her gift.)
But, this time, the panic, the confusion, they're all real, nothing but the remnants of the girl who grew up knowing nothing but a dully coloured reality. Nothing but school and work and boyfriends. Nothing but a day in, day out of emails and letters and phone calls-
Nothing that could prepare her for this.
So she raises her hands, plain and boring and human looking. )
It might not even work, now.
( But she'll at least not pretend that she doesn't know what he means.
okay, tl;dr, idk where you came from
Nobody wants to die.
(It'd been like a drug. Her life had been normal, astonishingly so. Wake up, go to work, go home, relax. Nice, safe.
Incredibly boring.
And really? Death dreams? Of all the powers? So not fun. Can you blame a girl, can you really, for liking that first hit of power, the rush of falling into chaos, finding a new life - a better life. She was a contender. The champion. One more round and-
Well. It doesn't matter now. Whatever this place is, it isn't where they were and she was a secretary, miss note taker, miss communication. It'd been important to note little details, and here there are only big ones, like the air around them and the weight of time.
- And that little observation habit, the one that let her tell the guys in back when someone was coming in with murder in their eyes (figuratively speaking) or not worth their time? It came in such use when she started surviving, winning. Figuring out who the weakest ones were, the easiest ones to pick off. Like Lily, poor girl. So messed up by her gift.)
But, this time, the panic, the confusion, they're all real, nothing but the remnants of the girl who grew up knowing nothing but a dully coloured reality. Nothing but school and work and boyfriends. Nothing but a day in, day out of emails and letters and phone calls-
Nothing that could prepare her for this.
So she raises her hands, plain and boring and human looking. )
It might not even work, now.
( But she'll at least not pretend that she doesn't know what he means.
Would it work here? After everything? )