Laurie Collins (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fridgeflower) wrote2015-09-17 05:53 pm
fridgeflower) wrote2015-09-17 05:53 pm
Entry tags:
One Year Posthumous
INTRODUCTION
The last time I saw D—, he was at school with me. He’d been de-powered. He’d been dealing with the deaths of our classmates. He’d been eighteen years old.
The man sitting across from me in the diner booth was in his early twenties. The look of hesitation and open concern on his face was familiar, as were the yellow-tinted glasses that he wore. I never even thought to deny that he and D— were the same person from different points in time. Nobody else could think that visor was a reasonable fashion accessory.
He was far more surprised than I was. Time travel is one thing, but where he perceived me as having traveled from… That was a whole different matter altogether, and it filled in all of the gaps that had been bothering me since I’d come to this world. I’d been cut off mid-reaction and was in Florida the next I knew, and the few people that I had known who came here as well seemed taken aback by my presence. D— was just the most honest of them. He’d always been a good friend.
“You don’t remember anything after that,” he said, and he set his hands over mine, “because there’s nothing to remember.”
On the front lawn of my school, where I’d been sent in hopes of refuge, I was shot in the back of the head while I tried to talk down my emotionally overloaded ex-boyfriend. The same group that had killed numerous of my classmates days before had calculated me as an individual threat that needed to be eliminated, so they’d eliminated me.
It’s an easier thing to say than to process. I left the diner, went home, and cried. I cried off-and-on for the next couple of days. I don’t clearly remember a moment in which everything clicked into place, because I don’t think there ever was one. I just know that, one day, I decided that things should proceed as normal. I woke up, got dressed, and went to school. I didn’t feel okay, but I functioned.
I believe that’s still where I am, some days. I don’t feel okay, but I function. Some days are fine, though, and some are really good. I always imagine that, maybe, if I can achieve everything I want to achieve and find everything that I want to find, I’ll feel okay every day.
That’s all that I ever really wanted. That’s all that anybody really wants, I think.
Included under January 2015
I finally decided to have my hand fixed, as if it just occurred to me that taking that step would be a good, solid foot forward. I don't know why I went back and forth on it so much, especially if I don't overthink it. The problem is that I overthink everything.
It's probably going to seem pretty straightforward on paper: a healer offered me his powers, and I offered mine in return. It's more the intricacies of the powers that makes the situation seem even slightly questionable. I guess I'm just worried about the impression that I've left or the impressions that I give off when I try to be more open about things like superpowers and give-and-take.
He took my pain from me in a very literal sense. He took it from me and into his self, and it was like Kevin had never hurt me at all. The pain is supposed to only be temporary, but the act still means a lot. The fact that he was willing to take that kind of hit for a near-stranger is a testament to good character, isn't it? Never mind that, when I first got here, this same man was comparing my powers to drugs and requesting to try them. Never mind that, after my hand was healed, I finally answered that request with a dose of made-to-order happiness.
That's what makes it morally foggy in my book, but it circles back into the weird relationship that I have with my powers in the first place. What's ethical when it comes to pheromones when requested? Is it wrong to make those around me happy? Is it okay to use these 'gifts' we're granted as currency, if the situation presents itself?
What might be most concerning is that I don't care much one way or another. I feel worse in knowing that I should care but really don't or won't in the long run. Somebody did something nice for me, my right hand is mine again, and I can just leave it at that. Maybe impressions don't matter as much in the face of meeting a goal.
Included under APRIL 2015
Sometimes, when I’m sitting alone and it’s quiet, I suddenly think the words “Nobody can love me.”
What follows can vary pretty widely. Nobody can love me, because I’m so frail. Nobody can love me, because I don’t have a good personality. I’m so blank. There’s nothing to love. Nobody can love me, because I have no guaranteed future. I’m quiet. I’m afraid. I keep my distance from people, even though I don’t mean to. I don’t understand how to connect to them. I’m not exciting. I’m not hot. I’m technically not human.
Nobody can love me, because I’m a crime given a body and a mind. I’ve known that for four years, and I still don’t know how to turn myself into something new and good. I don’t know how to be somebody that deserves love, and I hate that I want that love as badly as I do. I hate that not receiving it makes me feel worthless.
I know I’m not worthless, and I know it’s not right to feel this way about myself. It’s hard to come back from that, though.
Included under May 2015
Ms. Frost is gone. Mr. P-- is trying to find a replacement to run Xavier's. I hope he doesn't find anybody.
CONTENT REQUESTS;;
The book covers the time period from May 2014 through June 2015. (So actually a little more than a year, but who's counting?) Any events occurring after that time period will have to wait for the hypothetical next installment.
If you don't have Laurie-specific CR and would like to know about her experiences with certain events and MoM happenings, feel free to ask after those things, too!
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Kid's mentions first revolve around the Young Avengers, though superheroing isn't the focus of the book so the details of their investigation in Brycha are vague and brief. She'll mention tea, pancakes, and Kid's unprovoked kindness. He's described as being a generally level, gentle person, with maybe a tendency to be not-so-level at all. She'll admit that that last bit is only suspicion, though. She doesn't know how deep still waters run, but maybe that's the point of his persona. Even so, she wouldn't mind knowing more, and she appreciates his company when it's given.
He's referred to as K--.
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There'll be a throwaway line about their meeting outside of the library. Thanksgiving is a little more detailed in itself, although that entry is more focused on her boohooing than it is on the people that tugged her out of it for the night. The Christmas party, especially in regards to Jaime and Sasha, makes her feel accomplished and like she's starting to establish deeper, more meaningful connections with people here. Hopefully-vague reflections somewhere in March have her fussing over double-sided jealousy and maybe cracking an extra gay dolphin joke to spite herself. To round everything off, there's the stuff that the devil made her do in June and all of the over-analyzing that came with it, including her conclusion about how she ain't gonna get good boys, like, ever.
Not to actually end it on that note, the end of the book makes it clear that she's still trying really hard to feel better about herself and closer to those around her, even if those things are hard to measure.
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But yes, I'll be hitting your inbox up at some point!
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That sort of thing.