The horrors persist, but so do I

A gentle recognition flooded over gentle features, nothing that resembled relief, she had forgotten a long time ago how to indulge in such emotions. This didn’t mean that she didn’t feel the familiar warmth, and protective instinct she had towards the female. The small sense of joy that Ada wasn’t sure was allowed to be her own flickered behind her eyes seeing Grace had remembered her.

Her head tilted slightly amber gems tracing over Grace as she apologized, her eyebrow arching. “You don’t need to apologize for recognizing me.” Her voice was the same silk laced tone she always carried with herself. “I spent far too much time in my life making sure people didn’t.”

Her dark gems lingered only for a brief moment of time. She picked up on the hesitation each sentenced carried, Ada didn’t blame her what the poor girl had seen and endured with her mother’s death. Trauma and fear were something Ada knew all too well.

A sense of relief washed over Grace with hearing this voice again. During that time, Grace didn't really let anyone new in. Maybe that's why despite her face blindness, she was able to remember Ada. She made a strong impact on the young woman's life when she was at her lowest. When she had practically lost everything she knew and had to rebuild on her own.

"Of course I wouldn't put what you taught me to waste. I-It was actually very helpful recently." Grace replied with an awkward smile. That sense of dry humor is one she's very familiar with; it was in fact part of her own for period of time.

Not all of it could be used in the heat of the moment, though recognizing the bluff of an unloaded gun as a threat that eventually becoming an actual threat and acting upon it was one that came to mind. Was it foolish in a way to put the spotlight on and threaten to kill herself in the moment? Yes. But it got the result she hoped for at the time; serving as a distraction and playing what cards were in her hand correctly.

Send a 🩸 to show up at my muses door bleeding from an injury.

Send a 🩸 to show up at my muses door bleeding from an injury.

“Okay, got a good grip on it?” He checked the tiny fingers wrapped around the handle and figured they were probably as good as they were going to get. “Right. Now hold tight and swing it in front of you.” Hopefully when doing so she would notice that the world did not in fact explode like she seemed to expect, and would ease up.

Grace moves her arm towards herself and with the sharp edge aiming outward. Deep breaths. She's already done the first step of having a knife in her hands, and she can do this too. It takes the girl a bit to build up the internal courage to do it, eventually she straightened out her arm out. Her eyes watching the blade as it moved in tandem.

His method of quelling the ache is not the first time, and it is far from the last. It wasn't ideal, and at this stage it merely rounded the edge but it had to work. He had to make it work.

❝ Clear your head. Overthinking is going to throw off your aim. ── Watch. ❞

Back slammed by a mutated freak on grated floors. Blitzed in the shoulder. Flung back against a metal beam. A Parasite overtaking the spinal chord and nerves. Thrown against a shipping container by a T-103, thrown again by yet another T-103 against a pillar. Bus crash. Plane crash. Hellicopter crash. Back shredded by the C-virus deformed Security Advisor. Then Thrown by a mutated arms dealer at a wall. Flung off a bike at full speed. Thrown by a Tyrant Again. Thrown by a rocket launcher blast. Then who can forget . . . . fall ── after fall ── after fall ── again ── after again ── after again.

Grace watched as each round was fired off. Showing off the decades of experience Leon has under his belt compared to her; she only really got her pistol for self defense means. And didn't really practice at a range like this often. Given her paranoia and fear of being followed.

Part of her wanting to comment that, but here and now really isn't the time for a witty remark.

"Leon!" Panic was started to settle in as Grace immediately went over to his aid. She could see the struggle in his eyes and the betrayal his body was having; and it's clear he hates it. How can Grace focus on practicing when right beside her, a person she deeply considered a friend; was in pain. Choosing to be stubborn and continuing on despite it.