Shadow Puppet

“I suppose they must be.” Laura agrees, unsure of exactly what had changed that had set her on that path. Perhaps it was just the passing of time or the change in scenery. She raises an eyebrow at him. Laura knows what he means and has a feeling that she imagines is something like shame bubbling in her stomach remembering the night that had begun their friendship. “Better than I was, yes. And you?”

Slowly, Laura leans back until she’s laying on the mattress beside the male. Normally she didn’t like to lay on her back, hated staring up at ceilings because it reminded her of all the time she’d spent strapped to gurneys and hospital tables. She turns her head to look over at him, wondering what it is he wants to hear from her. She assumes it’s probably the truth. “Yes. But… sometimes I do not. I used to only have nightmares.”

“I will not.” She replies, sitting down on the edge of his bed. Laura figures he doesn’t need the assurance that if she found him revolting then she never would have stuck so close to him.

She didn’t really understand that expression. Well, in some ways she understood.  She understood what it felt like to look at some people and feel bile rise in your throat, but she had never felt that with Blair. “If I can tolerate Logan, then I can tolerate anyone.”

“Then I will stay.” Laura assures him, part of her wanting to reach out for him. She furrows her brows at herself, unsure of why she would wish to do such a thing. “For as long as you wish.”

“If that is what you need.” Laura answers, a bit taken off guard by the question. “Or.. what you want?”

“Mm, that sounds like something that the nargles would do. They once stole all of my sneakers until my feet had grown a size bigger and then returned them to me after they were no longer needed.”

“Nargles are very strange creatures. I imagine they will eventually return your book when you least need it.” She gives her a strange sort of smile. “Until then, we could share my book if you wanted. At least, I believe we’re in the same year?”

     as the other reveals  herself,  nova  thinks  less  &&  less  that she might be a cop,      here to kick her out—or some  strange  G U N S L I N G I N G  landowner with an      i t c h y ᴛʀɪɢɢᴇʀ ғɪɴɢᴇʀ. but  if  living  on  her  own has taught her anything, it’s to      not trust a n y t h i n g at face value, so she keeps her eye on the other.

     even so, that  answer  was—UNEXPECTEDLY p h i l o s o p h i c a l .  nova  can’t      help that look of absolute  ( c o n f u s i o n )  that  flickers  across her face && she      just looks the other over, trying to figure out if she's—

   ( uh—N U T S ? )

   “ i don’t know, ”  she answers finally, when it  looks  like  an  answer is a c t u a l l y      expected. “ i didn’t exactly v o l u n t e e r to be born either. ”

    that gains a soft laugh in response. though she wanted an answer, she’s     not used to most people indulging in her inquiries. sometimes inez will,     depending on how patient she’s feeling, but most people don’t bother and     fewer still bring up an entirely NEW point into the conversation.

    she settles down onto the ground, making herself comfortable despite     the lack of invitation to do so. toni could probably find a way to be     comfortable in the most hostile of environments, but she has yet to try.

“I really wouldn’t touch me.” If she was talking like that she might actually be something other then human which meant more complicated. “I don’t have much control right now.” A fellow nonhuman meant maybe he could at least say that he wasn’t completely helpless, even though he was. His chest gurgled sickly and he felt waves of black start to cloud his vision. wishing his phone was still working, “No hospitals.” Was the last desperate thing he could say before he passed out. 

“I think my shoulder’s been dislocated.” Rose told her, and gave a wry smile. A couple ribs were broken, too; Rose could feel that familiar pain. She knew there was nothing that could be done about that. They would heal. She was lucky one or both of her lungs hadn’t collapsed. “Beyond that, I’m pretty peachy. Just plenty of scrapes and bruises.”

“Blair.” Rose repeated, committing the syllable to memory. He insisted again that he hadn’t done anything, and her reply came in the form of a faintly sly (though still sweet,) smile. She pinched his jacket sleeve and tugged it twice, before starting to walk down the sidewalk. “C’mon, Blair. It’s alright.”

“I’m fine, I promise.” Or she would be, once she was able to assuage her guilt. It had never been her intention to immerse him in such horrible memories—she hadn’t gone searching for them, even. She couldn’t leave until she’d cleaned up at least some of the damage her powers had managed to create. It’d mean revealing her psychometry, but her secrecy was hardly a hefty trade for his peace of mind. 

Besides, she’d seen that he had some secrets of his own. 

“—Shit.” She blew out a harsh breath, disturbing the hair that had fallen into her features. Ara knew that he likely would have emotional backlash. With what he had been hiding in his mind, she would have been surprised if he had assured her he was fine. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

Clumsily, she climbed to her feet, leaning heavily against the bookshelf behind her. Her legs still felt weak and rubbery, but she needed to address the other with some composure. “It doesn’t happen often.” She shook her head. For a moment she was silent, just studying the stranger. He deserved to know what had happened, but she wasn’t certain how to broach the topic. Ara had no doubt he hadn’t wanted to share the memories she’d seen. She’d become an intruder in his mind.

“Did you have plans after this?” She pointed to his books, a slightly concerned frown passing over her features. They needed to address this now—if only to put her own mind to rest. “I think we should talk in private. I-I saw what you did.” 

“Why are you sorry? I’m not the one who fainted,” he pointed out. Sure, he was shaken up, but it wasn’t exactly her fault. Just his own brain betraying him with bad timing. That wasn’t anything too out of the ordinary. (Why would his brain ever be convenient with its failings?)

He stood with her, considering offering assistance, but she didn’t seem to want it, the way she was using the bookshelf, and he knew that sometimes you just needed to do something on your own to prove it could be done. He knew that better than most people, really, and he didn’t want to make things more awkward for her.

His heart skipped a beat and the panic welled up all over again. I saw what you did. It was... vague enough to pertain to anything, but he’d used his powers to ease her fall and that had to be what she was referring to. What else could it be?