thisavrou | [Voice]

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[Voice]

[With all of the quantum shenanigans Elizabeth has ever been involved with, this has to be the one that feels the strangest.]

[The doctor and nurses had been uncomfortably nice, even though Elizabeth had reassured them that they didn't have to treat her delicately. If this was a tragedy, she had no point of reference to mourn it. Seeing them give each other significant, sad glances was only irritating. What was possibly even more annoying though was that Elizabeth waited for the memory of her previous self to come back to her... but it wasn't. If she'd been here before, if she'd broken the rules again, memories of what she'd been like, what she'd said, how she'd died-- they would have been there. Sooner rather than later. But days went by and nothing came. She wandered around the hospital, the staff asked if she wanted to contact someone ("Who do you suggest?" she'd ask, and they would usually shrink back. No one knew who to call), and the day the 'Ingress technician' stopped by asking to talk to her she smelled a scientist and refused to let him in the room. The next day they suggested she go back to her apartment.]

[They drove her to a nice place, that they informed her she'd purchased, and once she'd been inside for a few minutes and her vitals remained stable, they took their leave to let her "get reacquainted".]

[And there she was with the strangest feeling in the world: not knowing what happened to her here.]

[There's an entire room of books-- which makes sense immediately, but the collection is the most eclectic thing she's ever seen. There are clothes in a hamper, rotting food in an ice box, dying plants on a porch, a wadded up blanket and many, many empty mugs. She was lonely, even before her apartment went abandoned for days. Did anybody know her?]

[The basic functions of the device on her wrist were explained to her on the ride to her apartment, but she's still unsure and careful as she makes selections and sets up a broadcast.]

This is Elizabeth DeWitt, formerly of the Moira's crew... [There's a long pause, and she finally realizes there's no way to avoid being straightforward.] ...I'm looking for anyone who knows me. There was an accident-- [Or incident, probably.] --and I've been told I left my timeline months ago and have been living elsewhere. Anyone who can shed some light on where I've been and what I've been doing... I'd like to speak with you.

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That's right. It's not total amnesia-- [Thank God. That would be like dropping a time bomb into an unmarked box and leaving it unattended on a street corner. Small miracles.] --but I don't remember anything about the Moira. A place I apparently lived in for quite a few months.

[And cared about enough to keep a piece of the hull in her things, apparently. And worked hard enough in to be promoted to first officer. It's awkward to have all of these artifacts of a normal life with purpose, and yet... she can't remember any of it.]

The last thing I remember, I was in my own timeline. [She crosses her arms and sits back in her chair, eyeing Badou with guarded curiosity.] Did you always call me Liz?

[holy shit that's awkward. Badou knows a bit of some of the things she's been through since, and obviously what happened after, but the gaps between are substantial. The redhead puts up his own guard as the coffee arrives, nice and hot.]

I can't say much about what you did on the ship, cause I didn't know you then. But down here I know you did your best to stick your nose into trouble. [the ghost of a smile curls across his mouth] Haven't known you all that long but yeah, thought you'd give me shit for it but I can't say you did.

[Well that sounds like her. DeWitts, always sticking their noses where they didn't belong-- she smiles faintly too, almost like she's nostalgic for something she can't remember.]

Guess I must have liked you well enough. If I dragged you into my troubles and let you call me Liz.

[his own ghost of a smile crosses his face, definitely fond]

We did have a couple bonding moments over some depressing shit. Also food.

'Depressing shit.' [She snorts.] Could be just about anything.

Food first though-- did we eat here before?

Depressing shit as in stuff being different, that kinda thing. People. [he wants to keep it vague...memories are great but not great memories aren't]

Yeah, we had a business meeting more or less.

Stuff being different and people. [Elizabeth smirks a little and nods sagely.] I know exactly what you're talking about. [Her sarcasm isn't broken, at least.]

What do you mean 'more or less'? [He's being vague, yes, but Elizabeth isn't here to be tiptoed around.] Listen mister... [She trails off, realizing she doesn't know this man's name, and just leaves it there.]

The doctors said that something might trigger a recollection, something small or something meaningful. If I really was as important as those people said I was, I need to remember everything as soon as I can. That means triggering this recollection somehow.

You sure you really wanna know?

[alright he'll cut right to the chase too. He saw what happened when she got...upset. He sees it right now, staring him in the face and remembering nothing of what they went through to save someone.]

You ever think it might be better just to save yourself.

[That's the most interesting thing he's said so far, and for a moment Elizabeth looks less confused and more stunned. Was he... seriously trying to protect her?]

[Elizabeth sits back in her chair, glances to the right for... something, she's not sure what. Someone telling her it's all a joke? But it's actually happening, she can feel the variables if she concentrates and reaches out. There's a mug of tea in front of her, his hair is pulled back, the waiter is a waitress--]

[It's real. And Elizabeth has no idea what to say.]

...Yes. [That seems the right way to start, at least.] It's never really worked out so great for me, though. Trying to save myself. Usually it's at somebody else's expense. Is that how this is, too?

When you save yourself, sometimes you gotta run. From yourself, from others. That's some complicated-ly drastic shit, ain't it.

[In a way, it wouldn't feel right to keep it from her. Even if it protects her, protects others. This is a part of her identity too. You can't run from that for long.]

My name's Badou, and we met cause you were bummed about people leaving this place...you wanted to drink enough to puke your guts out, and we talked about the finer course of shitty foods. We worked a case together.

Well there's my problem. I can't outrace myself. [She leans her elbows on the table and smiles, tired and resigned. Elizabeth had thought that killing Comstock, the last one, would've freed her from the feelings of responsibility, of anger and frustration-- but she'd left Sally to the wolves so to speak, and any relief she might have felt was swallowed in nightmares of girls screaming as they burned. She could run fast, but her emotions would always hamstring her.]

[His name comes as a surprise-- she'd been half expecting him to dance around that issue for a while. But the rest of it...]

A couple of people came forward, saying we were friends. I guess I had more than that, though, if it drove me to drink. Did I tell you my father was an alcoholic? [It's like she's pointing out the weather when she says that-- obviously it's not a terrible secret or something she still struggles with, but it's an explanation. Or another piece to some puzzle if he's trying to make sense of the strange things Elizabeth says and does.]

What case was it?

[No one can; but he doesn't want to be the one to confirm it for you. You never stop turning at shadows, hair at the back of your neck prickling because someone had gotten too close. Close to seeing you, close to the wound.

This is about as honest as he's been, too.]

Sounded like you were close, yeah. I think you kinda implied it...you weren't exactly happy about your need for it but you made it seem like you had no choice. Hell of a choice.

[speaking of hellish choices]

Someone was missing. I don't usually take those cases, either.

I never thought I would need it. I guess I still think I don't, but... seems I have some learning to do about myself. And my former friends. [She manages to perk up her smile a little, but these are all troubling things. The drinking, the loss of friendships, having even had friends...]

Must have been an important missing person. Who was it?

You didn't get too fucked up from what I hear. So you've got a little control there.

[over this situation? Debatable. And now comes the Moment:]

A kid.

According to someone else I started a bar fight. I wouldn't call that 'control', but I appreciate the thought.

[But the missing person-- that's what's important here. Elizabeth looks at Badou, pained, but like it's the most obvious thing in the world.]

A child. [She would have done anything to save one more, just to feel a small sense of having righted something after she nearly destroyed one life. Even if it wasn't her burden to bear, she knows, she knows she would have gone to their rescue.]

[Elizabeth suddenly grips the side of her head as her vision blurs and a sharp spike goes through her skull. She grunts in pain, and blindly starts feeling around the table for a napkin.]

Good-- good that's good-- [Something is fighting to the surface, but she can't see it, just feel her brain tying itself in knots.] Ohhh God I always hated this-- [She groans again as her nose starts bleeding.]

[The bar fight, that's right, he'd forgotten she'd mentioned that. He's going to forget lots of other bright thoughts brought to his mind too because the instant her nose begins to bleed, he panics--]

Hated-- what the hell's going on? Are you okay?

[he's yanking napkins out and pressing them to her face quickly, heart in his throat because the last time that happened it wasn't too fun]

Woah--!!

[Elizabeth raises her hands, but Badou's too fast with the napkins and Elizabeth finds herself staring at him cross-eyed and startled. Her spine is very straight and she's staring up at him wide-eyed.]

...I'm fine, my nose is just bleeding.

[More's happening than just that, but she's a little too startled to talk about science right now.]

[realizing his hands are definitely in her face, he lowers them back onto the table, expression sheepish]

My bad, blood just...yeah. I thought-- nevermind.

[Elizabeth holds the napkins to her face for a bit longer, still staring at Badou like he's about to grow a second head and carry on the conversation with himself. Incredible-- he just, leaped right up like it was a normal thing to do. And now he looks like a kicked puppy, muttering a several starts of sentences but not much else.]

[After a moment, she lowers the napkins, a light reddish smear still on her upper lip, but she doesn't look too concerned about it. She's trying to see through Badou, trying to figure out what made him do that. Maybe he doesn't like the sight of blood, but if he didn't surely he would have just looked away not-- tried to help her.]

...was that normal for us? Did I... [She tries to resettle herself to look a bit more relaxed. Elizabeth isn't used to being touched-- by anyone. Unless it's to hurt her. Someone coming at her so suddenly is usually a sign that she's about to get hit, but he didn't do that. Not by a long shot.]

I guess spending so much time having friends meant I was used to that kind of interaction, right? [God. How wonderful. And how terrible she doesn't know any of it anymore. How many times after Columbia did she wish someone, anyone, would just hold her for a minute?] I'm sorry if you weren't expecting that.

[she doesn't have to wish very hard to get him talking to a second head, really. or even clack her shoes together.

Thank god there's coffee to have him waste his mouth on instead of talking. 'Was that normal for us' that's such a-- he doesn't know what to think of that, and for a second Badou Nails is blank.

When the cogs start working:]

I guess? We didn't hold hands or nothing but, I dunno? Friends do that? Most of me and my friends kicked each other's asses so...and nah, its alright. None of this is exactly expected.

[Friends do that. Yeah, that seems about right, so she nods vaguely and twists her fingers together around the napkin under the table. She doesn't like not knowing what's going on, asking these awkward questions and feeling embarrassed when she gets it wrong.]

I'm not surprised to hear I was depressed. [She says, finally.] Or that I threw myself into trying to save someone to fix it. Did it work? Was I better afterwards, or...

[Or had they failed?]

[Did it work. Did finding this kid work, did saving this kid save whatever was left voided inside her?

Badou's silent for a moment. Then,]

We found him.

[the silence is awkward, and couldn't be vague-er]

...But I wasn't better afterwards, is what you're not saying.

[Elizabeth sits back in her chair. How had she failed? With all of the firepower she had behind her, how could she not save one boy? Why hadn't she-- is probably the better question.]

What happened? Were we too late?

If this is the result, I don't think you had a fighting chance to be better. Doesn't exactly work that way anyway.

[it is what it is. he hates to say it, but she has to hear it]

He was fine, we got there on time. But...something opened, because of the Ingress I guess.

This is the result. [She repeats, frowning at him, working backwards to figure out his meaning. Does he mean that she was like this even before whatever happened, happened? Or is he just referring to the fact that this memory wipe is a direct result of her trying to save this child and restart her countdown to depression? Either way, she's not liking the picture these clues are painting. She has a very, very bad feeling that more than she's comfortable with happened.]

...what do you mean 'something'? [She's not playing dumb, her tone is hard and low, indicating that he'd better tell her the truth if he knows it.]

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brokeassgoing - 2017-08-10 01:16 (UTC) - Expand

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