send ➂ and my muse will list 3 things that they like about yours!

1. “How on earth am I supposed to limit this to three things? I suppose I have a long list to choose from. I think I’ll start with the first thing I realised I liked about you, Edward. This was years ago, in the G.C.P.D. You were so passionate about things. I’d never seen anyone care so much about… well… everything. You got so excited, and it was so endearing, the way you would just ramble about the most random trivia! I could listen to you talk for hours.”

2. “The first thing I liked about you, when I came to Star City, was how calm you were. Even when I had a gun pointed at you, you were calm. You didn’t try to talk me out of it, or convince me to stop. You just let me point it straight at you… God, it’s impossible to imagine doing that now… You just let me be angry. It floored me, at the time, but now I can see how terrified you must have been. But you didn’t show it. You stayed rational, and level-headed, and you stopped me from doing something that I would regret terribly now.”

send ➂ and my muse will list 3 things that they like about yours!

1. “You were my first friend in Star City, Harls. I met you when I was still very... angry. And the fact that we’re still friends, so many months later... It means more to me than I can say. When I came here, I never saw myself having a friend, or even sticking around, but you were the first person who showed me that I could have a normal life. I’ll never be able to tell you how grateful I am for that. Even lately, with everything that’s been going on with you, I know I can count on you.”

2. “You always have my best interests at heart. When I told you my past, you didn’t leave, or judge me, or say I was lying... Even though it’s a pretty crazy story. You just listened, and I really, really, needed that. Edward is your friend, but you didn’t take his side. You were so sympathetic, but you didn’t pity me. I needed so much, that night. You were amazing.”

send ➂ and my muse will list 3 things that they like about yours!

1. “You are clearly very intelligent. When I first met you, I assumed you were just a violent mobster, but I can see now that I was judging you unfairly, based on no evidence at all.  I left our first meeting having been proven pleasantly wrong. Though our views might differ on certain matters, you are obviously very clever, and you have actually given me a lot to think about.”

2. “There is no need for unnecessary social niceties between us. I find myself not needing to play a role around you, which is oddly refreshing. Even when I attempt to put on a facade, you call me out on it, without chastising me. We can get straight to the point, and you seem to prefer a more direct approach. I don’t want to waste your time, and you don’t want to waste mine, and I appreciate that.”

When Isabella saw the note, pinned to her front door, she assumed it was from Edward. It was odd, for him to leave her a letter rather than simply texting her, but he must have had a good reason. Maybe he didn’t want to risk discussing their plan via text? That would make sense, to avoid risking someone seeing it. Maybe he was checking to see how her conversation with Jessica was going?

There was something very romantic about the fact that they might have to revert to letter writing to discuss their plan, at least until she had moved in. It was reminiscent of their game. So, when she pulled the letter from the door, and unfolded it, she was immediately disappointed. It took her two seconds to realise that this wasn’t from Edward. In fact, she knew who it was from.

It wasn’t a surprise. Given how apparently prolific this anonymous writer was, she’d figured it was only a matter of time before they targeted her. Though she’d told Jubilee this was a cruel joke, and she honestly believed it was, her heart raced when she read the typed words. They were threatening her? How dare they?

Whoever had got hold of her information must have done so from Donovan or Howard. That much was obvious. Only a few people knew about Indian Hill. 5, Donovan, Howard, and Harley. And, given that Donovan and Howard had already been targeted by this person, it made sense that they had been the ones to let slip that she was from Indian Hill. This was their fault. Someone must have heard it from them, and decided to play a game.

Her money was on Howard. She didn’t know him very well, but he clearly didn’t have much of a filter. She’d seen that when she’d first met him. He must have let slip that they were from Indian Hill, perhaps to a supposedly trusted person, and that person had taken that information and was deciding to mess with their lives.

There was no way to tell who had written the letter, because it was typed. The paper it was printed on was standard – thin, ordinary, printer paper. It could have come from anywhere. It was written in a typically villainous tone, just like the message that Jubilee had received. The writer had used a singular personal pronoun, implying that they were working alone.

“Oh my,” she murmured to herself, rereading it slowly, now that the initial panic had worn off. “You’re a busy bee, aren’t you?” She despised their word choice. Under the hood of a clone. As if she was a car, to be taken apart and examined. Her joints tingled slightly.

She walked inside, and closed the door behind her, reading the letter again. It hadn’t come with conditions. They hadn’t demanded anything of her, the way they had of Jubilee and Howard. That only further proved her point – that this was an experiment, or a game, to them. They just wanted to test Jubilee and Howard, to see if they would comply with the demands.

Isabella was almost insulted that they hadn’t told her to do anything. Did they not think she was capable? Did they think she wouldn’t do what they asked? Of course, she wouldn’t have, if they had asked her to do something. But the fact that they hadn’t even bothered seemed like an insult. All they had done was inform her that they knew who she was, and that she was a clone, and that they ‘knew people’. It was almost comical.

The threat was vague enough not to cause any fear. The letter-writer would pay for threatening her, eventually. But it was more out of principle than genuine concern or terror. How dare they threaten her with exposure? When she had done such a good job of severing herself from Kristen’s life?

As much as she didn’t want to admit it, Howard had probably been right when he’d said there were other shadowy scientific organisations who would want to capture them. But if this anonymous author was the same person who had pettily demanded that Howard flee the city, and that Jubilee break up with her boyfriend, then Isabella doubted their legitimacy. They didn’t know any big evil scientific co-operations. They were a hoaxer, and nothing more. This was the written equivalent of a schoolchild saying “I’ll tell the teacher!”

send me a symbol for a dream!

🌥 – a recurring dream

She’s standing in the middle of a forest in Gotham, looking down into a square, yawning, hole in the ground. It’s very deep, and Tom is inside it, looking around. He reaches out and touches the sides of the hole, which are smooth and crumble upon contact. He smiles brightly and looks up at her. In the dream, she loves him very much – she adores him, in fact – and seeing him smile like that makes her heart pound.

“It won’t be too bad down here, Kristen,” he says. “There’s a lot of room.”

And then, suddenly, she’s down there with him, standing beside him. The hole is big enough for both of them to stand beside each other, and she looks up and sees that it’s so deep that it’s more like a well, more like a chasm, than a grave. She and Tom are stuck down there, miles and miles down, away from everyone else.

But, when she turns to him, he’s gone. He vanished without saying anything. She blinks, and her heart races with fear, because she doesn’t want to be buried alone, down here in the earth. The earth around her is wet, and thick, and she can’t scale the walls of the grave, because she keeps sliding down back to the bottom.

Worms wriggle out of the sides of the hole, and drop onto the floor, and spiders are suddenly everywhere. She hates bugs, but there’s nowhere to go, and they surround her. Earth starts to fall onto her head, in heavy clumps, and she knows that she’d being buried alive. But it doesn’t matter how many times she cries out, to beg and plead for it to stop. Her voice won’t work.

send me a symbol for a dream!

🌧 – a dream that came true

When Isabella has only been in Star City for a few weeks, she dreams that she’s shopping. It’s such an odd dream, which is why she remembers it. Normally, she dreams about Edward and Oswald. She dreams about death and torture, about finally killing them.

But, in this dream she’s shopping for food, and the store is going to close soon, so she has to hurry. In the dream, she has people waiting for her at home. In a dream logic way, she knows that they’re her family, and they’re relying on her to buy chicken. It’s ridiculous. Isabella doesn’t have a family. Kristen’s family think she’s dead. But, in the dream, she walks briskly across the parking lot, to make it to the store before closing time.

Panic sets in, because she’s not going to make it. In the dream, she knows she’s being irrational, because her family can make do. But the fact that she can’t make them dinner because she’s going to be late to the store seems like the end of the world. It’s silly dream fear, and it makes no sense, when she thinks back on it, but it sticks with her. She let her family down.

Months and months later, a few days since she’s returned to the condo after taking care of Edward for two weeks, Isabella plans a meal for the kids. It’s a small, pathetic, way of apologising. She arrives in the early evening, after work, to find the store shut.

⚡️ – a nightmare

“Do you feel anything, Isabella?”

“No,” she says.

She looks down and sees she’s missing her hand. It has been detached at the wrist. There is no blood. Her flesh looks like tofu. White and bloodless and synthetic. Her hand is sitting on Professor Strange’s desk, its fingers twitching and tapping like spider’s legs. It stands up, using its fingers as legs, and drums its nails on the table impatiently.

She’s mortified by the way her hand is acting, and feels the embarrassment rise up inside her like bile. “I’m terribly sorry,” she says, apologetically. “I didn’t cut it off. Edward did.” She wants to reach out and take it back, to reattach it, but she doesn’t want to make Professor Strange angry, so she just sits there and waits. Her amputated wrist tingles.

“You know he did it because he loves you, don’t you?” Professor Strange asks, in his soothing, calm, voice. Isabella nods quickly, because she wants to please him.

“Oh yes. I know. He had to do it. I wouldn’t have fit into the box otherwise,” she explains, even though she knows that Professor Strange already understands this. But she wants to get the answer right. If she gets it wrong, she knows he will be angry. And the answer is true. Edward had no choice. He hadn’t meant to do it.

Professor Strange smiles. “Do you love him, Isabella?”

First meeting/icebreaker meme

Ecco paused as she brought the glass up to her lips, and lowered it again. She turned to look at the young women, whom she recalled meeting at the Mayor's party. "You did?" she asked softly. She put the glass down on the bar, and felt a rush of cold and controlled anger. "Which guy?"

First meeting/icebreaker meme

They had been sitting in the main room of the bunker, in silence, for about half an hour. Ecco was reading one of the few books she owned, on business management strategies, to pass the time. Everything was different now, of course, and she had a feeling she would never take another phone call from one of Jeremiah's associates again, but she wanted something to do.