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- tlv: dimitri alexander blaiddyd,
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lastvoyages
[If I don't have an active post up, feel free to use this post to have your character call, videochat, text, or knock on Shaw's door.]
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[She says it quietly and carefully, but firmly.]
My life couldn't have been saved. I was a dead woman walking. Killing me did save many lives.
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I know, but...there were ways to prevent you or...anybody else from being bitten in the first place.
[She sighs, shaking her head.]
Why am I defending someone who doesn't even exist?
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[Shaw retreats further back into the cabin so that she can drop down onto the edge of her mattress, rubbing her temples - though she leaves the door open as she goes, and she keeps talking.]
You're lucky it wasn't real. You would have gotten yourself killed.
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Maybe. I've proven hard to kill. I'd wager this breach Franky had even odds.
[Her body aches with the questions she wants to ask. And she wouldn't be Franky if at least some of what she's really thinking didn't leak out.]
Of course, funny enough, who lived and who died and who might have died isn't even the most important thing, is it?
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[She says dully, gaze fixed on the floor a few feet in front of her.]
You wanna tell me what you think the most important thing is? 'Cause I got nothing.
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Do...
[Had she forgotten it?]
You don't remember...
[She unnecessarily looks behind her before making a hand gesture back and forth, between them.]
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I remember. Wasn't really us, though, right?
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[For some reason, that disappoints her. But it shouldn't because, well, it hadn't been real, had it? Though it felt very real. And the urge to push back Shaw's hair, giving her comfort when she was feeling ill - all so suddenly coming to mind - that felt very real, too.]
Right, I...right. I should...
[She thumbs over her shoulder, straightening up and clearing her throat.]
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It's not you.
[She says, because she knows that this isn't exactly the ideal response for her to have.]
I'm not pissed at you.
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[Too many thoughts, too many memories of that other Franky to sort out.]
[But she'd been through breaches before - they'd never bothered her like this, never lingered. She'd taken a deep breath, and moved on and...why not this time?]
Then what are you pissed at?
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[Shaw knows from experience that Franky doesn't stand for her "this isn't real" talk, which is actually completely fine with her; she prefers a straight-forward Stop being ridiculous to a lot of other approaches. But the words come out anyway, and she exhales sharply, redirecting.]
There's someone at home.
[Or there was. There will be. Whatever. It's not something she likes telling people, for the most part, but she's made the odd exception here and there and she supposes that this should be one of them.]
So, you know. My head getting messed with like this kinda sucks.
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[Again, so obvious she should have known. Without even thinking, she ends up sitting down next to Shaw. In her mind, unexpected sand castle begin to collapse, and she doesn't know what to make of that, either.]
It would, I suppose. I don't.
[A slight pause]
Have anyone, back home. Would be much worse if I did. Granted, this all came out of left bloody field, too - lot of new things there.
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[The joke is delivered without any real life to it, as she stares at Franky's knee.]
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In 1939, I'm considered what they call a difficult woman. Besides, so few even slightly measure up.
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I-- she--
[Stymied by the pronouns for a moment, she sighs, annoyed.]
In the breach, the... person I was really wanted to give you a good evening, before, you know. Did it work?
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[It's out before she can stop it, and more follows.]
Her life was...even more alone than mine is. Death around every corner, nothing but losses. Every time was...special. Memorable.
Satisfying.
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In theory, that should be good. She'd asked because she'd been hoping to hear that her plan had gone as intended; that she'd left that other Franky with something solid and worth remembering. But what she says is--]
I'm sorry.
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Sorry for what?
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[She stops, shaking her head, rubbing the back of her neck.]
What sucks is...the mixing up. The breaches all faded before, you know? Back to my usual self, tickety-boo as they say. I could tell what was there, what was here.
And here, well, it's usually a lot simpler. Alone, like being that way and...and, well. Hadn't found myself drawn to...[she clears her throat.]
To women before. Or...or a woman.
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[She asks, mildly baffled.]
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Makes it bloody confusing but sex that satisfying doesn't make anything worse.
[And then her face realizes she's said it.]
Shit, my turn to say sorry, I think. A bit gauche of me, as they say.
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[It's meant to be a quip, even if she's too worn out to sound properly lighthearted. Either way, she certainly isn't offended.]
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Clearly.
[She swallows, thickly.]
Enough so that the thoughts have...lingered. They're...not going away, like the other breaches did.
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[It's another joke, though honestly, if Franky takes it as a serious offer she'll absolutely do it.]
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