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Post by VALKYRIE on Jul 30, 2016 2:49:27 GMT
 Thalia spends ten minutes getting dressed, which is nine more minutes than she would admit to spending on what she suspects is a post-midnight booty call. She gets halfway to the subway station outside the Compound before bothering to check her phone and see that the next train doesn't come for thirty minutes.
She concedes defeat and calls an Uber. It's not like she can't afford it.
Marisa's apartment is the same; the walk down to the end of the hallway, the flickering light overhead. This hasn't changed. It lets Thalia pretend, at least until she's knocking on the door, that they haven't changed either.
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life is hard and then you die
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Post by Comic on Jul 30, 2016 2:59:43 GMT
 when the door opens, she isn't as poised as thalia probably appears. its yoga pants - the generic grey shade found at every supermarket - and a tank top that elaborates itself as another band related one. it seems to be the only kind of sleeveless she owns. hair is just barely pulled back and away from her face, and for a moment, she looks down, then back to thalia.
"hey." she steps back to let her in, to unblock the doorway.
the apartment is decidedly cleaner. not quite clean; theres still clothes here and there, but the sink is actually empty, and the place smells like it was frebreezed at some point before thalia's arrival. more of the carpeted floor is revealed, and the side table and counters that used to be covered in empty boxes and old dishes are cleaned off as well. a singular empty box of take-out chinese inhabits the corner of the coffee table.
"i, well... i appreciate you coming over so soon."
VALKYRIE
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Post by VALKYRIE on Jul 30, 2016 3:14:50 GMT
She shrugs and offers up a smile. "It's not like I was doing anything else," she says, and then realizes that sounds cold. "Besides, I wanted to see you."
She looks from the single chair to Marisa to the chair again. She can't look at Marisa for too long. It feels like staring at the sun, or maybe into the heart of a bomb. "Is it okay if I sit down?" she asks, "Or did you have--plans?"
What a great start, Thalia. Truly incredible.
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life is hard and then you die
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Post by Comic on Jul 30, 2016 3:26:48 GMT
 a small smile worked its way onto her face, and she pulled it off after moment; marisa didn't want this to become all about something it might not be. there were a lot of reasons she asked thalia over, and while she did strongly want some validation and to lose herself in some heat, she needed to clear some air first.
"yeah, sit anywhere." anywhere, but namely, the chair you're staring at. marisa herself pulls forward and presses against the top of her futon, just letting her feet dangle and touch the floor. her hands are busy bracing and balancing, and she watches her own feet kick.
"i want to apologize, first. i- i want to. i dont know how its, done? i don't know how to, uh, how to really do this, honestly." nervous chuckle, like when they first met, and she still hasnt been able to look up. "any of it, really."
VALKYRIE
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Post by VALKYRIE on Jul 30, 2016 3:46:33 GMT
Thalia folds and then unfolds her hands. She doesn't look at them; she watches Marisa. It's easier now that she doesn't have to worry about Marisa looking back at her. It makes sense that they had to have this conversation eventually, but she didn't think it would be now.
Well, it's not like they could do anything else without having it.
"It's hard," she says, "I won't pretend like it isn't." She thinks of Zeyn for a moment, in a way she hasn't let herself think of her in years: the small smile she wore when she thought Thalia wasn't looking, the long, straight fall of her hair, her hands like the wings of a bird. Zeyn later, snarling, her eyes blank with no hint of recognition when she looked at Thalia. "I think--it's usually worth it, though. I-I can help, if you need to ask, or if you need something--"
Space, advice, time, and patience. If Comic is worried about not knowing what to do, at least she doesn't have Thalia's track record, she thinks enviously, a history written in stone of doing exactly the wrong thing. But it's a small thought. She pushes it away.
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life is hard and then you die
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Post by Comic on Jul 30, 2016 4:04:54 GMT
 "its just, so much has changed." almost a laugh, almost, but it chokes itself back down and she momentarily covers her mouth. she still hasnt looked up.
"i, i havent worked in a week. over a week, i think. i dont know. i cant go back to any of them. i cant get any private jobs. and you know what? i dont even want any of them. i dont even know why not having any of them- i dont know why it matters."
she looks up, and theres no tears on the outside, but very tired eyes look at thalia's legs for a moment and settle back on the floor. she didn't make it all the way, but it opens a floodgate at her mouth. she's talking... faster than normal, rushing it, trying to keep her cool and this is the only way to do so. "i keep thinking about who i am. thalia, i - i dont like who i am. i dont think i ever really did," and her hands clench, "but, i just... i dont.. its stupid, but i just, dont think about that so much when you're around?"
a long, long sigh. "i, i've ran over this conversation so many times in my head. i dont... i dont talk to people like this. but i want to. i want to be open with you about something because you found out, about, just... all of that stuff. and here i am, fumbling around about all of it, and i just... i hate it, i hate how i can't just explain it."
"i just dont want to feel this alone anymore."
VALKYRIE
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Post by VALKYRIE on Jul 30, 2016 4:26:54 GMT
A part of her wants to get up and walk out the door, walk away. This is what she's spent her entire adult life running from: openness and honesty. Someone baring themselves to her, or trying. Because they always want something in return. They peel open their rib cage and expect you to do the same in return and when you can't, they punish you for it. You know this, god, you know this like you know nothing else.
But a larger part of her says if you can't do this for her, you can at least be here. That's the part of her that flinches when Marisa says she doesn't want to feel alone anymore, because Thalia knows that too. How long has she carried this on her back like a black stone, worn smooth from constant attention, gleaming darkly in low light? How many times has she thought if only I could put this down, but there were never words for any of it, there was never anywhere to stop on the road.
"I'm glad you think about it less when you're with me," she hears herself say. "I don't want you to feel alone. Even if we're not--anything, I'm willing to wait as long as you need until you can explain it." Horrified, she hears herself go on. "I don't care, you know, about what I found out. Maybe I should, maybe I should condemn you or lecture you, maybe it makes me a hypocrite when I have a card in my pocket that says I'm a registered superhero, but I know what it's like to hate who you have to be to survive."
When the price of living makes you wonder if you even really lived through it, if you're not some other girl in familiar skin, a ghost who slipped into an empty, waiting body.
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life is hard and then you die
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Post by Comic on Jul 30, 2016 5:09:27 GMT
 she sits in silence as thalia speaks, but by the time she's done, marisa looks up and looks her in the eyes. her own blues are dull from insomnia but still manage to convey a marisa image.
"honestly, a part of me was kind of... hoping for an arrest or something, i guess." its a sheepish laugh, a poorly played joke. "you know, some kind of poetic justice to end that week." a pause, and she falls back on the futon, allowing herself to sprawl out on it in a display of no energy. a sigh.
"... i want to be something. to someone, to you. and not just a... not just someone at a bar. i just dont know if im worth it, given..." kidnapping arson kneecapping attempted murder stealing hurting people hurting people hurting people, it all flashes before her, before punching thalia in the psychic shielded face. that mental flash hurts. she doesnt want to bring it up.
"i want to be something."
VALKYRIE
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Jul 30, 2016 17:40:39 GMT
Post by VALKYRIE on Jul 30, 2016 17:40:39 GMT
Well, I think all human beings are inherently worth something, except for when I don't, seems a little trite for this situation. Thalia clears her throat. You remind me of Zeyn, only less crazy and more emotionally open, also seems like a huge mistake.
"You can sit around the rest of your life not being anyone, thinking you're not worth it," Thalia says. "Or you can change that. You're already someone to me. I know that's not enough, but it's somewhere to start, at least."
Please don't punch me again, she thinks, but what she really means is: Please don't let me fail again.
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life is hard and then you die
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Jul 30, 2016 18:08:31 GMT
Post by Comic on Jul 30, 2016 18:08:31 GMT
 marisa listens, feet still hanging off the edge of the futon, and a part of her hates that she has to hear this validation just to feel like she isn't the bad guy for inviting thalia over. the other part is just happy to be acknowledge, in multiple ways.
"its enough." she sits up, deciding not to wallow in this for the night. she has done enough of that for the day. she then wants to say that she's sorry that she has nothing to offer, really; no poptarts in the cabinet, no real drinks in the fridge, no leftovers from the night. she decides thats not worth talking about, not to motormouth anymore, and looks over and gives thalia a small smile.
"thanks."
VALKYRIE
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Jul 30, 2016 18:33:07 GMT
Post by VALKYRIE on Jul 30, 2016 18:33:07 GMT
Thalia smiles back--but more importantly, she actually blushes when Marisa thanks her. She suspects pink on pink is not a good look, but she can't help it.
"Ah, it's no problem," she says. "I'm just being a friend, you don't have to--I mean, I'm sure you would do the same for me."
Maybe friend is too large of a leap, but she doesn't know what else to call them. I'm-just-being-the-girl-you-hooked-up-with-and-went-on-half-a-date-with-before-punching-me-in-the-face doesn't have quite the same ring to it, and is also a bit of a mouthful.
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life is hard and then you die
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Jul 30, 2016 18:55:51 GMT
Post by Comic on Jul 30, 2016 18:55:51 GMT
 strawberry sherbet is the first image that pops into her head, and its a momentary distraction that makes light of the moment and she's happy for it. she turns, not necessarily away, but so she can lay her head back and let her neck cusp the top of the futon. hair falls over the edge like a curtain.
"do you want to stay?" she stares at the ceiling, counting the paint splots as she goes. its that bland, generic ceiling, white paint, but someone tried to make it look... nice. it doesnt look nice. but marisa is just hoping for a concrete answer in return, even if the answer is a no.
VALKYRIE
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Post by VALKYRIE on Aug 2, 2016 8:34:13 GMT
Thalia turns over the question and answer in her head for a moment, considers everything she knows--and everything she doesn't know. It's probably masochistic, in a way, to not want to give up on this, to still want to be here despite everything, but at the same time it feels right. Like pulling away a scab to see the new, raw flesh underneath; the proof there was a wound here, but now it's gone. Or not gone--healed. There's a difference, and if it's a difference she only knows in theory, she still knows it.
"Yes," she says, and even though she knew what she was going to say, the word still feels unexpected in her mouth. It's not an unpleasant feeling.
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life is hard and then you die
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Post by Comic on Aug 5, 2016 6:29:49 GMT
 its almost a chuckle in her throat, and it starts like that, but after a moment marisa has a second of laughter; theres a tone of happiness in there, and fades into something of disbelief on her face. that answer was what she wanted, but not expected, and its something of a weight off her chest and like an ache is sucked from her ribcage.
she sits up, proper, pulling herself to one side of the futon and staring forward. digging around in the futon itself, she then holds up the object of her search - a remote. "guests' choice, if you wanna watch anything." its also an offer for her to come over, to come to the futon, to come closer than the sidetable itself. marisa doesn't want to ask that so directly; tried, for a moment, to do so, and the words failed.
so this will do.
VALKYRIE
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Post by VALKYRIE on Aug 5, 2016 8:09:17 GMT
Thalia, once she has made up her mind, makes it up like an avalanche, a force of nature: full steam ahead, and she never lets the guilt or self-doubt stop her, only slow her down a little. So when Marisa offers her the remote, she flops down next to her and turns the tv on with no hesitation.
"Hope you like trashy reality shows," she says, as the dim light washes over their faces, the theme song from Meeting Up With the Madisons echoing tinny and unreal in the late night atmosphere. It's a re-run. She's seen this one before, but it's never less weird to see Molotov's face up on the screen, even though Thalia is a celebrity herself (...although that's like comparing apples to an orange gone supernova), even though she sees the other woman at the Initiative Compound.
"I don't think this is scripted," Thalia says, wrinkling her nose. "Either that, or maybe every conversation I've ever had with her has been scripted as well."
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