no matter the distance i want you to know that deep down inside of me you are my fire the one desire

[unvaryingshades]

There is a young girl skipping through Grant Park. She has a wireless PS3 controller in one hand. The other hand, she holds up close to her face, the distorted doll heads on her fingers letting off some pretty serious psychic disturbance. To some, it might seem like indistinct chattering. Others might hear distinct words, but the language is likely

Comments

[godtooksides]

The angel's having a pretty good day, for once. He's only had a few cigarettes so far, which is a testament to his nervousness or lack thereof. And he's got some cash. When things warm up, it's a helluva lot easier to panhandle. At least in his opinion.

He actually didn't come into the shop to buy anything; everything's way too overpriced for him. He came in because he was starting to feel a little too comfortable walking outside, and wanted to make sure being inside was still okay; this was just the first open-to-the-public business on this particular street. Warm as it might be during the day, he still doesn't particularly want to sleep outside at night just yet.

Of course, when he sees Jessi -- well, he starts walking over to her, but then hesitates. They don't really know each other, even if she does say hi to him at the shelter now (when he's there, that is) and he did consider helping her move. (He didn't, but that was just a Bad Day overall.) But at the same time, he feels like maybe he should wake her up.

[idontlikecake]

Jessi has always been a light sleeper. She sleeps well enough with her brother, but even then, she often wakes up in a cold sweat, worried that someone or something touched her. Bugs crawling over her skin. Knives cutting into her flesh. Insulation making her itch all over. It is impossible for her to sleep and not to dream; her short sleep cycles have trained her body to hit the REM cycle faster and faster.

So she jolt when she's touched, staring at the angel, gaping slightly. There's a scream caught in the back of her throat. She's so glad it doesn't get out, as she suddenly realizes where she is and what's happening. It takes her a few moments to come completely to her senses, though, gaping at the angel with cream cheese on her face.

"Would you like a bagel?" she asks softly, pushing the plate towards the other, like nothing had happened at all.

[godtooksides]

The angel snaps his hand back immediately when she wakes up, mostly because she's suddenly conscious again. He might have also taken a few involuntary steps back, and for a moment is just staring

[idontlikecake]

Reaching out, Jessi grabs her purse. Even as she connects to reality, images continue to run through her head. By five minutes, she tells herself, 90% of the dream will have faded. Sometimes, she wonders if that statistic is bullshit, or if she misremembered it.

She grabs her compact out of her bag, flipping it open to look at her face. She needs to calm down. For him. For everyone else in the coffee shop. Picking up one of her napkins, she wipes her face off slowly.

"I shouldn't eat cream cheese anyway," she points out, putting her compact back, after she's touched her makeup up again. "Makes me sick."

[doyoulikecake]

Kaden's also in the office. This is completely normal, for him, however; he puts in a good 20 hours during Saturday and Sunday alone, mostly because at the beginning of the week he's pretty much unable to work due to classes. Plus, he likes not dealing with a large number of coworkers. It lets him experiment on his subjects in peace

[biosys_intl]

"Can you even imagine the kind of paperwork you need to explain why you lost a couple of pounds of C4 and some napalm?" Ash asks vaguely. She stares down into her coffee cup and then over at his. She watches Peyton still go through the files. She imagines the woman knows she's being watched, but doesn't want to deal with them. It's an embarrassing enough situation on its own. "Of course, she's not the one who's actually at fault here."

Ash sighs, letting more of her weight rest against the threshold. "Not like she can prove it, though."

[doyoulikecake]

Kaden raises his eyebrows, taking another sip of his coffee. "I guess not," he says, "given that most of that paperwork isn't done by me." Also given that he has yet to lose some sort of expensive lab equipment -- or, really, anything at all

[biosys_intl]

If Ash had answered, it would have been the same answer she always gives him. I don't think I'll ever get tired of not answering ya, sweetie.

There are things people need to know and things they don't. Kaden needs to know that she knows things, but he doesn't need to know why or how she knows them. No one needs to. It doesn't matter. Well, it does. It does on a deep, carnal level. It does if she wants to keep her autonomy.

But for Kaden? No. It does not matter. There is nothing he needs to know. Instead, she'll just study his interaction with Peyton. Yes, there's paperwork that needs to be done, but this could be interesting.

[allmydiredreams]

Babel's enjoying the warm in the park. It's a good warm. Means that maybe the horrible cold that she doesn't have the jacket for is finally going to let up. She wouldn't mind the winter so much if she'd brought a proper jacket. Never mind the fact that she could have bought a jacket. Clearly, winter should cater itself around her clothing wishes, not the other way around.

So she's frolicking about in a sweatshirt, grinning at the sky, when it...spasms. She frowns at it. That felt wrong, not like a Rift at all. Looked wrong.

There's also a bit of weird happening over across the way, there, though she doesn't connect the two until she gets closer -- the weird she was initially picking up on was 040, and it's we she appears beside, though she's staring at Mati. Or, more accurately, at the heads on the girl's fingers.

"Not her real head," she murmurs. "Not her real game." She just can't quite put her finger on what is.

[unvaryingshades]

{head, body, face[parts]} can be "less than" {real, touch, actual[truth]} but "more" {extension, add on, chip[piece]} of how {being, actuality, existence[IS] we scraps together vaguely. Our attempts to furnish together a sense of Feeling are failing today. It is merely puzzlement and exploration. Vasumati will play. He is a "Child" and "Childs" play. {games, activities, schemes[fun]} "???"

We turns, studying Babel. Mati's games hurt our head, but more is one the fritz right here.

Pieces are falling apart. Networks are getting disrupted. Some things will have to be smashed.

[bestoweduponus]

A clear understanding of reality. Pieces falling together and pulling apart. Reality distorted and re-synthesized. The buttons aren't needed but they're an extension, a piece of Something she can use to further manipulate. It's stiff, but malleable still. It's like a twig snapping here and there. And oh god, that retaliation hurts worse than the actually pressure on her. It's like her entire being is crammed into a box much too small, and it's only getting smaller. But even as it presses her closer she knows what it is and what it could be. She can touch all of those moments and existences and ideas and oh Denizen if it isn't overwhelming in a sense of over-stimulation. It's like her non-existent breath catches in her throat and her toes curl in the mere diversity of thing that are and could be

[allmydiredreams]

Babel turns to stare up at 040, her look as vague as our impression. "Yes," she says. "'Children' is the plural of 'child'." Because that is the important thing here, Babel. Totally.

She looks back to Mati when the girl's shoes bump hers. The invasion of her personal space doesn't bother her. The defiance doesn't either. It's the way reality flickers around Mati that reminds her...reminds her of...

The air thickening--flash of light or white or nothing or void--paralysis--pain--

There's a sick feeling rising in her throat.

"Nobody can get out," she deadpans, staring right back down into Mati's eyes, ignoring the question completely. She can feel it, poking and prodding at her walls, wanting them down, wanting to speak. She won't let it.

[calicoway]

Luke should not be out and about for several reasons. His immune system is getting exceptionally weaker. Plus, there's the entire reason that he went into hiding in the first place. He doesn't think that the Organization really cares about one whore at this point. However, he's feeling better today than he has been, and he's been smuggled into the basement in kitten form.

He wanted to spend time in the basement again. He feels safe here, even if he shouldn't. After all, this is the first place that he ever thought of as being home. Nostalgia has hit him hard lately.

"Hey, look it's my bff," he says from the doorway, which he's leaning against. "And tux-maker extraordinaire. Thought you lived at the Gauche or are you payin' a visit, too? Sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt your game."

[quiettotheend]

Tabitha raises a finger to her lips, grinning behind it. She flips her head backwards, offering Luke a controller. "I was just trying to get a combo down. Wanna play?"

She suddenly looks a bit shifty, giggling. "And I'm totally not here. I'm totally in the Gauche, mmkay?"

Not that there's anyone but her father she's sure would be upset that she's up and out of bed. Either way, though, she's totally not in the Conrad right now. "There were like, cookies involved, okay?"

[calicoway]

"I've... never played before," Luke admits walking over to her and picking up the controller as though it's the strangest object that he's ever had to hold. Considering what has been in his hands, the narration finds this unlikely.

He sits down next to her, bringing the controller closer to his chest as he tries to figure out which button is which.

"You're not here, and I'm not here either. I'm at the Tower. We can both be somewhere else here together," Luke says and then smiles at her, lifting his eyebrows. "Cookies?"

[quiettotheend]

Rolling over the side of the sofa in a lazy heap, Tabitha finds the stash of cookies she kept in the common room. "Cookies," she says seriously, grabbing one and starting to chow down. "Whenever I get sick, my dad sends 'em to me, but then I have wayyyy too many cookies, and it's like, hold your horses cowboy! So Mr. Vader taught me that I can bring them here, and the archangels will make short work of them without making short work of me."

She gives him a smile, handing the basket of cookies to him. She laughs softly, holding up the controller and looking away suddenly. "Well then. We're both totally not here, so it's all good."

Burrowing further into the sofa cushions, she reaches for another cookie. "...you've never played this game before," she says, staring at him staring down at the controller.

[the_recruiter]

Romeo can sense her in the burning building. He has not decided if it's worth it to walk in there and drag her out again. In the end, he feels he's put too much effort into her to allow her to burn away in a building.

He walks in and stands by her head, avoiding the fire as well as he can. He's wearing nice clothes, and he doesn't want them to get singed. If they did, he'd only make her find a way to pay for replacements.

Romeo kneels down.

"Should I even ask what you're doing?"

[oncekittentits]

"Watching the world burn," Kittentits says, holding her hand above her head as she watches the flames. All of the fuckers can fucking deal. It's nice, just watching everything. She tilts her head to the side, but doesn't bother getting up, giving him an off-kilter smile.

"Just been a long time since I've seen something fucking beautiful."

And this definitely counts. She can even lose herself in these flames. If she dies, oh well. It was worth it.

[the_recruiter]

Romeo sighs. To let her burn or not to let her burn? That is the question. However, he has put a lot of time into molding her into his little pet. And he gets to say when she dies. Unless she manages to do it when he's not around, in which case, good for her.

He reaches for the wrist that she has over her head and tries to pull her up. The narration assumes that she won't struggle, but if she does, he'll force her into submission.

"There's beauty all around you. You're simply not seeing it," Romeo says against the skin of her neck. "If you look at the world the right way, you'll see that the whole of it is burning. As bright and brilliantly as this building."

[oncekittentits]

She freezes at his touch; she lets him manipulate her. It's hard to explain how little of the world she sees when he's not there, how vivid everything is when he touches her. When he hurts her.

There's soot on Kittentits' face, but she doesn't bother brushing it off. She just stares at the fire still, processing the words against her skin. She always has to think of what she can say to him; it takes her a while.

"Feel like I can't even connect with that anymore," she admits. That's partially the amnesia. But still.