[video]

[notyourutopian]

[Eleanor is sitting at a small table in her bedroom which is still at mutanthaus I believe, her phone resting on the far side of the table to film her. There's a small Christmas tree on the floor behind her, with a little pile of torn up wrappings under it. But her phone is mostly focusing on what is on the table, which appears to be a large,

Comments

text;

[selfkismesis]

WHAT
ARE YOU SERIOUSLY SITTING THERE CONTEMPLATING THE MERITS OF STICKING RANDOM SHARP OBJECTS FILLED WITH RANDOM UNKNOWN SHIT INTO YOURSELF?
LIKE, IS THIS SERIOUSLY SOMETHING THAT IS GOING THROUGH YOUR FUCKING MIND RIGHT NOW?
BECAUSE IT SHOULDN'T.
THAT SHOULD BE THE LAST GODDAMN THING ON YOUR MIND.

[notyourutopian]

[Oh, another troll. Eleanor reads the text absently, frowning slightly, though she manages to not ask why he types that way. She's spoken to enough trolls to sort of understand the idea of a quirk. Sort of. Although the shouting text did make her feel like she needed to defend herself.]

It's not completely random. I can narrow it down to twenty-or so things.

[Well that was...mostly true.]

[selfkismesis]

THAT'S FUCKING RANDOM.
AND HOW CAN YOU TELL IT'S NOT SOMETHING NEW?
WHAT IF IT'S JUST SOME FUCKING POISON SOMEONE DISGUSTED TO SCREW WITH YOU?
BECAUSE THEY HAD THE STRANGE INKLING THAT YOU'D CONTEMPLATE PUBLICLY WHETHER OR NOT YOU'RE GOING SHOVE THAT SHIT STRAIGHT INTO YOUR HUSK, AND SACROSANCT, POPULATED BY ASSHOLES AND THE MENTALLY DEFICIENT, WOULD ENCOURAGE YOU TO DO IT.
WHAT THEN?

[notyourutopian]

...No one else here would know what a Plasmid looked like, everyone else from Rapture is gone.

[She looks a bit distant for a moment.]

Actually, I'm not sure I can be poisoned. Even if they did.

[selfkismesis]

WELL, GUESS WHAT!
TODAY'S NOT THE DAY TO FIND OUT WHETHER OR NOT YOU CAN BE POISONED!
ESPECIALLY NOT WHERE EVERYONE CAN FUCKING SEE, WOW.
TODAY'S THE DAY TO GET RID OF THAT SHIT.

[notyourutopian]

...But what if it's something useful?

[ah, the joy of an addicts logic.]

There are a lot of plasmids that could be very helpful while I'm trapped here. Except bees.

[Bees was always horrible.]

[selfkismesis]

OR YOU COULD JUST REMAIN THE SAME WITHOUT THE RISK OF BEES AND BE PERFECTLY FUCKING FINE.
OH MAN, LOGIC.
IT'S SO GODDAMN HARD.

[notyourutopian]

But...

[She sets the phylactery down on the table again, and turns it a couple times, just here and there, so it's centered. At least she put it down?]

If it could give you ice powers, or let you shoot lightning bolts from your hands...

Wouldn't you want to try?

[selfkismesis]

NO.

[notyourutopian]

[She's actually surprised.]

Really?

Not at all?

[selfkismesis]

NOT IN THE LEAST.

[notyourutopian]

I was under the impression everyone wanted superpowers.

[selfkismesis]

WELL, YOU'RE WRONG.
CONGRATS.
BECAUSE, UNLIKE MOST OF THE IRRESPONSIBLE SHITS AROUND HERE, I REALIZE THAT WITH GREAT POWER COMES GREAT FUCKING RESPONSIBILITY.
IF YOU HAVE POWERS (WORKING UNDER THE ASSUMPTION THAT THAT THING ISNT BEES OR POISON OR BOTH), YOU'VE GOT TO USE THEM PROPERLY.
WHICH IS BULLSHIT.
PEOPLE WILL ALWAYS BE ON YOUR CASE ABOUT THAT SHIT.
IF SOMETHING BAD HAPPENS, IT'S YOUR FAULT.
IF SOMEONE EXPLODES, IT'S YOUR FAULT.
IF SOMEONE JUMPS OFF A FUCKING CLIFF, IT IS PROBABLY YOUR GODDAMN FAULT.
AND EVERYONE KNOWS IT.

[notyourutopian]

[A little pause as she reads that and looks...well...somewhere between befuddled and amused.]

You don't want powers because they come with guilt?

Nobody ever guilted me about mine.

[selfkismesis]

NOT EVERYONE KNOWS WHEN YOU USE YOUR SHITTY SKILLS/POWERS/WHATEVER WRONG.
SO THEN YOU HAVE TO DEAL WITH PAST AND FUTURE YOUS GETTING ALL UP IN YOUR BUSINESS.
WHICH YOU KNOW THEY WILL.

[notyourutopian]

...past and...future...

What?