Post by Maverick on Nov 1, 2022 22:16:26 GMT
3 Days following The Festival Attack...
Ow.
Her body ached from her "lightweight" patrol involving some drunk guy who decided it was a good idea to throw his ex's car. The soreness and pain of the ordeal had come almost all at once. When she stopped. The constant activity that came with taking in a supervillain took a toll on the body. After all, as far as Sacha knew, she was still human no matter how many monsters and metahumans she took out. Her muscles tore and would rebuild themselves with time. Injuries accumulated could wear her body down with permanent injury. Or even by crippling her. Or she could take the route of simply taking the safest route each and every time -- to grow to old age. Her body warned her constantly of threats. But at times it was up to her whether or not she was going to eat an impact or not. To save someone -- it was usually best to save them and yourself at once.
Sacha stood in the mirror of the restroom, staring at the remnants of the bruise she'd acquired from the Music Festival attack. The crab had sent a shockwave of rocks racing towards her -- one that could be easily anticipated and dodged. And yet it was impact she was willing to take so as to free Psi sooner. And she knew all it would cost was some burst blood vessels beneath her skin. But she wondered what exactly it might cost next time.
For now, she set upon licking her wounds.
The bathtub had been filled with cool water. And she sought to make it cooler, until it was -59 degrees fahrenheit. From there, she took off her clothes and moved to lounge in. It would gradually work to reduce swelling in the muscles and reduced lactic acid buildup in the muscles. More than that -- it cause the bruise on her stomache to begin to heal up. While she was still, her mind was oddly alert. Whether she liked it or not -- the part of her mind that alerted her to danger told her constantly of just how long she needed to be in the bath down to the last second. And she couldn't sleep in it even if she wanted to. Even though she had been tired for not only being up for practically the entire day but for having been -- it wasn't easy to fall asleep in a bath of ice cold water. Thus she stared up at the ceiling wide eyed and let her mind wander.
""What would become of our sweet, precious Lethe?”
In the quietest moment -- she heard her voice again. The last voice she wanted to hear. And yet this time it wasn't a voice she sought to push out. She was hardly ever one to ignore it. And with the discipline taught by Noctua and the self-realization aided by Alvis -- she'd little interest in pushing the thought away for later. The time was now, simply. A part of her wondered if the question was ever going to relevant. But she knew that in some way -- that it could become relevant under a real set circumstance. Not that which the witch dreamed up -- in the which they lived in a perfect world devoid of any conflict or any need of protectors. But in the heat of battle, she simply did not have the time.
An answer was found. But it was one she kept for herself.
“I’m no hero!” “I just did what was necessary.” “NO!”
The memories of this man filled her mind. Someone who she had definitely come to know was no sort of hero in the official capacity. While sightings of the man appeared -- none of it ever seemed to give any type of meaningful information on the man at all or his motives. There was no carefully constructed profile that the police could bring up. Nor was there any stories or witnesses. It scratched her mind in a way that she found strange. Who was the man, why was he there and what exactly is it that he does that made him so distraught. A part of her wanted to almost invite him to the outing with everyone else. And yet something had almost told her not invite him. To have nothing at all to do with him. Even if she wanted to talk to him -- there was no finding him. No matter how much her mind told her to stay away, she'd have found him just like she'd found scout. But there was no finding him in all of the official she looked.
....
Is he like me? Like what I was?
It clicked in her mind then -- to look in places where people were able to hire her at one point.
She sank into the tub deeper, only her head sticking out as her shoulders and biceps submerged underneath the water. Her hair splayed out all around her, floating along the surface. She breathed and sank until her her nose was beneath the water. And then she exhaled a torrent of bubbles. The ice cubes in the water shifted and her eyes took to following them randomly. And then she rose just enough once more for her to breath.
Then there was the matter of someone known as the one she simply called "Boyscout." She couldn't even get him to give her his real name. Even if she could have gotten it -- it didn't really seem to matter much. It didn't seem like she could help him if she couldn't even get his name. Though maybe some psychologists didn't really need that. Some hotlines probably didn't even. A part of her wondered if she should have been more persistent. But it seemed as though she had simply made some mistakes that stopped her from getting through to certain men stuck in a dark place in the past. Though it seemed almost like some people wanted to be that way. Maybe it was better to just let people forget.
A final sigh as now her mind had cleared. Even if there were things she could be doing, there wasn't anything she could do from the confines of her bathtub. Doing this time and time again, and her body had come to know what to expect. And soon had gotten used to it. While she couldn't stay there forever -- it had become like taking a dip into a pool on a normal day. Her body long numb to it. Five more minutes and she'd be ready for the next day.
Soon she was out of the tub and into a pair of fresh pajamas pants and a warm, baggy shirt. However she found herself curled up in a blanket as she sat at her desk before her laptop. Sacha cracked open a "TOR" browser to peer through parts of the internet unregulated -- the Darknet. Where one could just as easily buy a person and order a hit about as they could start a rebellion under an oppressive regime. Her eyes shifted rapidly as she tore through page after page. Her face stiff until.
The lights would not turn off until she had found a satisfactory enough answer. After all she would have to get on a decent schedule for meeting everyone at Velvet Sunset.
Ow.
Her body ached from her "lightweight" patrol involving some drunk guy who decided it was a good idea to throw his ex's car. The soreness and pain of the ordeal had come almost all at once. When she stopped. The constant activity that came with taking in a supervillain took a toll on the body. After all, as far as Sacha knew, she was still human no matter how many monsters and metahumans she took out. Her muscles tore and would rebuild themselves with time. Injuries accumulated could wear her body down with permanent injury. Or even by crippling her. Or she could take the route of simply taking the safest route each and every time -- to grow to old age. Her body warned her constantly of threats. But at times it was up to her whether or not she was going to eat an impact or not. To save someone -- it was usually best to save them and yourself at once.
Sacha stood in the mirror of the restroom, staring at the remnants of the bruise she'd acquired from the Music Festival attack. The crab had sent a shockwave of rocks racing towards her -- one that could be easily anticipated and dodged. And yet it was impact she was willing to take so as to free Psi sooner. And she knew all it would cost was some burst blood vessels beneath her skin. But she wondered what exactly it might cost next time.
For now, she set upon licking her wounds.
The bathtub had been filled with cool water. And she sought to make it cooler, until it was -59 degrees fahrenheit. From there, she took off her clothes and moved to lounge in. It would gradually work to reduce swelling in the muscles and reduced lactic acid buildup in the muscles. More than that -- it cause the bruise on her stomache to begin to heal up. While she was still, her mind was oddly alert. Whether she liked it or not -- the part of her mind that alerted her to danger told her constantly of just how long she needed to be in the bath down to the last second. And she couldn't sleep in it even if she wanted to. Even though she had been tired for not only being up for practically the entire day but for having been -- it wasn't easy to fall asleep in a bath of ice cold water. Thus she stared up at the ceiling wide eyed and let her mind wander.
""What would become of our sweet, precious Lethe?”
In the quietest moment -- she heard her voice again. The last voice she wanted to hear. And yet this time it wasn't a voice she sought to push out. She was hardly ever one to ignore it. And with the discipline taught by Noctua and the self-realization aided by Alvis -- she'd little interest in pushing the thought away for later. The time was now, simply. A part of her wondered if the question was ever going to relevant. But she knew that in some way -- that it could become relevant under a real set circumstance. Not that which the witch dreamed up -- in the which they lived in a perfect world devoid of any conflict or any need of protectors. But in the heat of battle, she simply did not have the time.
An answer was found. But it was one she kept for herself.
“I’m no hero!” “I just did what was necessary.” “NO!”
The memories of this man filled her mind. Someone who she had definitely come to know was no sort of hero in the official capacity. While sightings of the man appeared -- none of it ever seemed to give any type of meaningful information on the man at all or his motives. There was no carefully constructed profile that the police could bring up. Nor was there any stories or witnesses. It scratched her mind in a way that she found strange. Who was the man, why was he there and what exactly is it that he does that made him so distraught. A part of her wanted to almost invite him to the outing with everyone else. And yet something had almost told her not invite him. To have nothing at all to do with him. Even if she wanted to talk to him -- there was no finding him. No matter how much her mind told her to stay away, she'd have found him just like she'd found scout. But there was no finding him in all of the official she looked.
....
Is he like me? Like what I was?
It clicked in her mind then -- to look in places where people were able to hire her at one point.
She sank into the tub deeper, only her head sticking out as her shoulders and biceps submerged underneath the water. Her hair splayed out all around her, floating along the surface. She breathed and sank until her her nose was beneath the water. And then she exhaled a torrent of bubbles. The ice cubes in the water shifted and her eyes took to following them randomly. And then she rose just enough once more for her to breath.
Then there was the matter of someone known as the one she simply called "Boyscout." She couldn't even get him to give her his real name. Even if she could have gotten it -- it didn't really seem to matter much. It didn't seem like she could help him if she couldn't even get his name. Though maybe some psychologists didn't really need that. Some hotlines probably didn't even. A part of her wondered if she should have been more persistent. But it seemed as though she had simply made some mistakes that stopped her from getting through to certain men stuck in a dark place in the past. Though it seemed almost like some people wanted to be that way. Maybe it was better to just let people forget.
A final sigh as now her mind had cleared. Even if there were things she could be doing, there wasn't anything she could do from the confines of her bathtub. Doing this time and time again, and her body had come to know what to expect. And soon had gotten used to it. While she couldn't stay there forever -- it had become like taking a dip into a pool on a normal day. Her body long numb to it. Five more minutes and she'd be ready for the next day.
Soon she was out of the tub and into a pair of fresh pajamas pants and a warm, baggy shirt. However she found herself curled up in a blanket as she sat at her desk before her laptop. Sacha cracked open a "TOR" browser to peer through parts of the internet unregulated -- the Darknet. Where one could just as easily buy a person and order a hit about as they could start a rebellion under an oppressive regime. Her eyes shifted rapidly as she tore through page after page. Her face stiff until.
The lights would not turn off until she had found a satisfactory enough answer. After all she would have to get on a decent schedule for meeting everyone at Velvet Sunset.