fandom_muses :: February :: Anger
[ This is the beginning of Kat finding a new path. I don’t really know where my girl is headed, so, for now, this is all I’ve got. This post reflects where Kat’s been and the beginning of her going somewhere else. Any mention of other characters is purely for past reference.]
How do you handle anger?
When you gonna grow up // Momma always said
Are you gonna walk around with a silly grin // And a bubble on your head
A spaceship landed by the mall
Spaceship - Angie Aparo
Kat didn’t realize she had been alone. She thought all along that there was someone watching out for her, but she realizes now that all those prayers didn’t even get past the ceiling. No, she’s just been talking to herself, it seems. She really doesn’t know what happened. She’s tried to figure it out by replaying weird moments over in her head, but nothing adds up. She knew it was too good to be true from the start - she knew it, and now she’s kicking herself for believing in anything. She’s trying not to be angry, but anger feels better than scared.
Everything she’s held dear is gone - except for her old life in Tennessee, but she’s too stubborn to go back. She fears stepping into her old life would be like slipping into that old pair of jeans that used to be so perfect, but now they don’t seem to fit. It’s a real fear. She’s just come back from Memphis, and it didn’t feel like home this time. But she doesn’t know where home is anymore because it’s empty here.
Empty, literally. It’s not a figurative metaphor or anything filled with fancy language that she doesn’t use. She’d taken a trip to that place that used to feel like home, full of stories about her fantastic life in LA. She left out the parts about vampires and demons because her Mama didn’t even talk about those sorts of things in fairytales - she always skipped the stories about magical creatures; she wouldn’t even allow talk of the Smurfs, and they’re a cartoon. But she told all kinds of stories about working two jobs, about some guy coming in for coffee and offering her a job at a law firm - not some cheap law firm that advertises with poor taste commercials and annoying slogans, but one that was widely recognized in elite circles, Wolfram and Hart. She told them about her plush apartment that the firm paid for, how glamorous her life had become. She exaggerated in parts, but deep down, she thought it might be true.
The office, however, is empty. She stepped inside without needing to swipe her badge at the door - it was open, no security system, no cameras, but hollow, as if it had never been anything more. She made her way to her desk, her heels clicked against the tile, creating an eerie sort of echo. There’s something here that lingers as she brushes her fingers against her desk - something lingers in this empty place, and it makes her think about that analogy of does a tree make a sound when it falls in the forest if no one’s around to hear it. Her desk and some other odd pieces of furniture are all that remain except for that unsettling feeling that’s swept over her.
She stayed for nearly an hour, wandering the empty halls, wondering if the rapture had occurred and she hadn’t been a nice enough girl to be taken. But then, the irony that a building of lawyers is empty reassures it that it was no rapture, unless hell was making a weird statement. Someone made a weird statement, anyway, and that’s when she started replaying odd moments. She had started to notice a lot of supernatural terminology when she’d review certain files on clients. She’d tried to ask Aidan about it, but he never answered. She thought about calling Angel or Fred, but she had gone against that because she really didn’t want to go back to the slayer hotel. She thought she’d found a way out of the slayer business - she thought she’d never have to slay anything, that she was perfectly safe and had slipped away from that life by means of some cosmic loophole. But the loophole has vanished.
Her apartment suddenly isn’t plush or glamorous. It feels cold and just as empty, even though her personal things are still here. She isn’t sure if she can stay. It was Aidan’s idea, this place - she tries to call him, only to get a message about how the number you have dialed is incorrect. She wonders how long it’ll be before this is empty too - but then, she can’t honestly recall ever meeting any neighbors or seeing anyone else around really. She has an overwhelming urge to pack - to see how much she can fit into her Jeep and take off before she’ll vanish too. But this feeling isn’t so different - it’s the realization that hurts, the realization that she’s been alone all this time, but it took some unknown event to bring it to the surface.
It doesn’t take long to pack. The apartment was already furnished; the few pieces of furniture she owns are tucked away safely in a storage unit on the other side of town. Two suitcases and a backpack are all it takes to pack up her things. This place has never felt like hers; she never really tried to feather her nest because she knew, somehow, that it would never really belong to her. She doesn’t bother to lock the door when she goes - she leaves the key on the coffee table, in case someone comes looking for it. The elevator plays soft music, as if there’s someone to hear it - Kat isn’t listening.
She drives in circles for awhile - until she passes enough gas stations to know better; prices aren’t going down, and she’s unemployed, though she doesn’t like the sound of that as this wasn’t her fault. She ends up at the coffee shop where this mess started - where she saw the red-head who called her a slayer, where she met Angel the vampire, where she met a guy named Aidan who turned her world around. She’s come full-circle, going back to the start. She’s still a slayer. She’s still an undecided girl who lives by a hope and a prayer - though now, she’s not sure she believes in either. She sits inside the shop, at a small table nestled in a corner, sipping a latte, flipping through a magazine, and waiting for the next person to find her and flip her universe all over again.
How do you handle anger?
When you gonna grow up // Momma always said
Are you gonna walk around with a silly grin // And a bubble on your head
A spaceship landed by the mall
Spaceship - Angie Aparo
Kat didn’t realize she had been alone. She thought all along that there was someone watching out for her, but she realizes now that all those prayers didn’t even get past the ceiling. No, she’s just been talking to herself, it seems. She really doesn’t know what happened. She’s tried to figure it out by replaying weird moments over in her head, but nothing adds up. She knew it was too good to be true from the start - she knew it, and now she’s kicking herself for believing in anything. She’s trying not to be angry, but anger feels better than scared.
Everything she’s held dear is gone - except for her old life in Tennessee, but she’s too stubborn to go back. She fears stepping into her old life would be like slipping into that old pair of jeans that used to be so perfect, but now they don’t seem to fit. It’s a real fear. She’s just come back from Memphis, and it didn’t feel like home this time. But she doesn’t know where home is anymore because it’s empty here.
Empty, literally. It’s not a figurative metaphor or anything filled with fancy language that she doesn’t use. She’d taken a trip to that place that used to feel like home, full of stories about her fantastic life in LA. She left out the parts about vampires and demons because her Mama didn’t even talk about those sorts of things in fairytales - she always skipped the stories about magical creatures; she wouldn’t even allow talk of the Smurfs, and they’re a cartoon. But she told all kinds of stories about working two jobs, about some guy coming in for coffee and offering her a job at a law firm - not some cheap law firm that advertises with poor taste commercials and annoying slogans, but one that was widely recognized in elite circles, Wolfram and Hart. She told them about her plush apartment that the firm paid for, how glamorous her life had become. She exaggerated in parts, but deep down, she thought it might be true.
The office, however, is empty. She stepped inside without needing to swipe her badge at the door - it was open, no security system, no cameras, but hollow, as if it had never been anything more. She made her way to her desk, her heels clicked against the tile, creating an eerie sort of echo. There’s something here that lingers as she brushes her fingers against her desk - something lingers in this empty place, and it makes her think about that analogy of does a tree make a sound when it falls in the forest if no one’s around to hear it. Her desk and some other odd pieces of furniture are all that remain except for that unsettling feeling that’s swept over her.
She stayed for nearly an hour, wandering the empty halls, wondering if the rapture had occurred and she hadn’t been a nice enough girl to be taken. But then, the irony that a building of lawyers is empty reassures it that it was no rapture, unless hell was making a weird statement. Someone made a weird statement, anyway, and that’s when she started replaying odd moments. She had started to notice a lot of supernatural terminology when she’d review certain files on clients. She’d tried to ask Aidan about it, but he never answered. She thought about calling Angel or Fred, but she had gone against that because she really didn’t want to go back to the slayer hotel. She thought she’d found a way out of the slayer business - she thought she’d never have to slay anything, that she was perfectly safe and had slipped away from that life by means of some cosmic loophole. But the loophole has vanished.
Her apartment suddenly isn’t plush or glamorous. It feels cold and just as empty, even though her personal things are still here. She isn’t sure if she can stay. It was Aidan’s idea, this place - she tries to call him, only to get a message about how the number you have dialed is incorrect. She wonders how long it’ll be before this is empty too - but then, she can’t honestly recall ever meeting any neighbors or seeing anyone else around really. She has an overwhelming urge to pack - to see how much she can fit into her Jeep and take off before she’ll vanish too. But this feeling isn’t so different - it’s the realization that hurts, the realization that she’s been alone all this time, but it took some unknown event to bring it to the surface.
It doesn’t take long to pack. The apartment was already furnished; the few pieces of furniture she owns are tucked away safely in a storage unit on the other side of town. Two suitcases and a backpack are all it takes to pack up her things. This place has never felt like hers; she never really tried to feather her nest because she knew, somehow, that it would never really belong to her. She doesn’t bother to lock the door when she goes - she leaves the key on the coffee table, in case someone comes looking for it. The elevator plays soft music, as if there’s someone to hear it - Kat isn’t listening.
She drives in circles for awhile - until she passes enough gas stations to know better; prices aren’t going down, and she’s unemployed, though she doesn’t like the sound of that as this wasn’t her fault. She ends up at the coffee shop where this mess started - where she saw the red-head who called her a slayer, where she met Angel the vampire, where she met a guy named Aidan who turned her world around. She’s come full-circle, going back to the start. She’s still a slayer. She’s still an undecided girl who lives by a hope and a prayer - though now, she’s not sure she believes in either. She sits inside the shop, at a small table nestled in a corner, sipping a latte, flipping through a magazine, and waiting for the next person to find her and flip her universe all over again.