[This is how it ends. Alone. After everything she did for them -- You're a helper, Hawke had said, but she'd also rejected her. They'd all rejected her. And still, she'd fought -- The Survivalist, striving to overcome the cruel messages, pushing herself further and further until she's falling and--
Was it still worth it?
She doesn't have the time to answer that question.
Then... there's buzzing. She'd think that it was fitting, if it weren't for the fact that she didn't believe in an afterlife. Her eyes snap open, expecting a hospital bed, wires, the delicious hospital scent--- her arm is through a wall.
She screams.
Later, she's figuring things out. As long as she pays attention, she doesn't go all Kitty Pryde. She tries to stay clear of the two Sayos, that won't stop bickering with one another -- justice has been served already, but she doesn't know how receptive to that explanation they'd be. It's better to stay clear.
It's a shame. She liked the band, and their music. Now that she has an excuse to talk the ears off of one of the non-Hawke members, and she has reason to stay away. She'd probably ignore that. But -- there's detective work to be done.
Misty seeks comfort in the familiar setting of the locker rooms. She used to spend endless amounts of time in another version of these, washing soccer cleats and sometimes getting knocked into lockers. Sometimes, she'd peer into the other girls' lockers. She'd find clues about their lives, things that she could bring up in conversations later on, or find clothes that smelled like them. Sometimes she'd take things, and take them back to her room, where she could pretend she knew what it was like to be them. Now, she has a different purpose. She'll try and look in the long abandoned lockers.]
fallings not the problem; its only when i hit the ground that causes all the grief.
Was it still worth it?
She doesn't have the time to answer that question.
Then... there's buzzing. She'd think that it was fitting, if it weren't for the fact that she didn't believe in an afterlife. Her eyes snap open, expecting a hospital bed, wires, the delicious hospital scent--- her arm is through a wall.
She screams.
Later, she's figuring things out. As long as she pays attention, she doesn't go all Kitty Pryde. She tries to stay clear of the two Sayos, that won't stop bickering with one another -- justice has been served already, but she doesn't know how receptive to that explanation they'd be. It's better to stay clear.
It's a shame. She liked the band, and their music. Now that she has an excuse to talk the ears off of one of the non-Hawke members, and she has reason to stay away. She'd probably ignore that. But -- there's detective work to be done.
Misty seeks comfort in the familiar setting of the locker rooms. She used to spend endless amounts of time in another version of these, washing soccer cleats and sometimes getting knocked into lockers. Sometimes, she'd peer into the other girls' lockers. She'd find clues about their lives, things that she could bring up in conversations later on, or find clothes that smelled like them. Sometimes she'd take things, and take them back to her room, where she could pretend she knew what it was like to be them. Now, she has a different purpose. She'll try and look in the long abandoned lockers.]