Persephone, the Destroyer (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
pummelgranite) wrote2019-09-03 02:08 am
pummelgranite) wrote2019-09-03 02:08 amEntry tags:
[MoM][IC Contact]
"Persephone. Speak."
pummelgranite) wrote2019-09-03 02:08 am
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[She doesn't know how to put this into words. The fact she still feels like part of her was ripped out by her loss, even knowing she's alive. even after the city she had been sent to protect had been destroyed, and her new friends there had all died. Even after the impact of dying herself, then killing her mother, however temporary that was--
It still feels wrong. Broken. Selfish. But not nearly to the level it had before. There's clarity to it now, a sense of... if not rightness, then of it being acceptable. A sense that the loss had gone from bad to worse, and without the first, she might have avoided the rest or weathered them better. So of course she has to come to peace with the fucked up Steph situation first, she thinks, gently guided by the hint of cthonic song.]
Maybe... The rest of it. Would be, um--easier, with her. [Meant as a way of trying to voice that thought.]
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[ It's a reasonable diagnosis. Finally having a friend was one of the only reasons she had survived Luci's death at all. She can hear in her voice how much Steph had meant to Cassandra- it was a bond perhaps even deeper than she and Inanna had made in those few months. ]
Probably . . .
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[It comes out softly, as she slowly opens her eyes again.]
Can you, um--keep doing... whatever this is? [She gestures, sort of.generally. in a swirling motion. She's trying to describe the gentle ripple from the twinge of performance Laura was giving.]
It's...helping, I think. But, um-- [And that takeout is still there and smelling fucking amazing and she knows it's good--she glances longingly to the chicken tikka. one hand goes to her comm, and she goes through her history on the network, before a post from about two years ago, while she was still gone, comes up. only found it by digging after Bruce told her what happened, half-remembrances of a world that would apparently be undone. she reaches out to the coffee table, propping up her comm against one of the unopened takeout cartons.
a video post and its replies start to play.]
Here.
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[ She watches Cassandra search, then begins watching. All the while, she keeps performing, as much as she can from this position. She holds her own heartbreak out of her mind, and lets Cassandra's flow through her. She lets herself pretend to believe that there's real comfort in the stroking of her fingers, and that Cassandra and everything she loves is safer for Persephone's presence. "No one gets a happy ending, but you can still help," she repeats like a mantra in her head. ]
You didn't mention how cute she is.
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but maybe more importantly, when Laura says that, Cassandra's eyes widen slightly. she had, of course, realized that Laura liked girls just from how Laura tended to look at her half the time, but--no, no, that wasn't the issue.
something about the implication behind the statement, the way it's directed, gives her pause. as if it was addressing Cass's perceptions of Steph. she feels it it hitting at something she had thought in the back of her mind before, but never tried to process or find words for. sorry, Psephs, don't mind THE BATMAN just having a slight baby gay crisis in her own head for a second, looking... alternately alarmed and contemplative?]
I, um--yeah. I guess she... is. [Cass allows that, brows knitting somewhat, even as her mind is racing again. not in a pained or upset direction, necessarily, at least not more than she was before Laura said that.]
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I think it's the hair.
[ She stroookes her hair. ]
Fucked up that you missed each other.