It's warm, in a way that most of the embraces she had known hadn't been. Waking up in eastern Europe with almost no memories before the blinding rush light that had accompanied the strange events at Heaven's Gate, with no proper name, no money, and no papers, she had eventually turned to the world's oldest profession to feed herself, to fund that quiet life she wished was quieter and filled with just a bit less looking over her shoulder for people whose identities weren't even clear in her own mind.
But this one... this one is warm, and "Carmine" sinks into it. She's tired. She's been tired for a long time. It had almost felt like a relief when the thick shards of ice had pierce her body from behind, when she'd been judged better off dead than to be "Havoc" again and to give whichever syndicate or government who got their hands on her the advantage of the powers that had done so much damage in the war.
She can't even be angry. If it hadn't been MI6, it would have been the CIA, or the Syndicate... any one of the groups she had been a tool for. A tool they'd rather break than give to someone else.
So she knew it was too good to be true to think she'd actually get what she wanted. Not after she'd been discovered, and that precious dream had died. Now... she is adrift again, perhaps even as far as another world... and yet she doesn't panic, she doesn't struggle. She's safe from the call of Hell's Gate, she can't feel it anymore... so she lets her eyes close, her cheek pillowed on a woman's shoulder and not the cold concrete stained with rain and her own blood.]
... What do you need me to do?
[She knows better than to expect something for nothing. Even PANDORA, who had claimed to have taken her in for their own good and not desire power from her, had been eager to experiment on a rare Regressor.
And that kind of life... a well-stocked kitchen and looking after orphans...
She'd had to give up over five years of life, any strength she had, and any memories left to get what little happiness she'd found. This time... What would it be?]
no subject
It's warm, in a way that most of the embraces she had known hadn't been. Waking up in eastern Europe with almost no memories before the blinding rush light that had accompanied the strange events at Heaven's Gate, with no proper name, no money, and no papers, she had eventually turned to the world's oldest profession to feed herself, to fund that quiet life she wished was quieter and filled with just a bit less looking over her shoulder for people whose identities weren't even clear in her own mind.
But this one... this one is warm, and "Carmine" sinks into it. She's tired. She's been tired for a long time. It had almost felt like a relief when the thick shards of ice had pierce her body from behind, when she'd been judged better off dead than to be "Havoc" again and to give whichever syndicate or government who got their hands on her the advantage of the powers that had done so much damage in the war.
She can't even be angry. If it hadn't been MI6, it would have been the CIA, or the Syndicate... any one of the groups she had been a tool for. A tool they'd rather break than give to someone else.
So she knew it was too good to be true to think she'd actually get what she wanted. Not after she'd been discovered, and that precious dream had died. Now... she is adrift again, perhaps even as far as another world... and yet she doesn't panic, she doesn't struggle. She's safe from the call of Hell's Gate, she can't feel it anymore... so she lets her eyes close, her cheek pillowed on a woman's shoulder and not the cold concrete stained with rain and her own blood.]
... What do you need me to do?
[She knows better than to expect something for nothing. Even PANDORA, who had claimed to have taken her in for their own good and not desire power from her, had been eager to experiment on a rare Regressor.
And that kind of life... a well-stocked kitchen and looking after orphans...
She'd had to give up over five years of life, any strength she had, and any memories left to get what little happiness she'd found. This time... What would it be?]