Tula's been very busy since Dolphin's lawyers turned up. She's been talking to the Atlantean refugees and to the local ADA when he's not trying to get his hands on a good lawyer for her. She's thrown herself into fighting this, into protecting Cerdian, with all the fervor she possesses. But today is different. Today, she has trouble getting out of
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"You do not have to speak. I have buried three husbands. I cannot know the exact things you are feeling, but I can offer whatever comfort I am capable of."
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"Thank you, Kory," she says softly. She has no idea how Kory's managed to go through this three times and still function, much less live with the vivacity that she does. It gives her hope, when she allows it to, that someday the pain won't be so great.
"Tomorrow, though," she continues. "Tonight, I just...need to be not here." The Tower feels both suffocating and utterly hollow. She can't stay tonight. "Can you keep an eye on Cerdian for me tonight? I know that the security here is more than enough to keep that scum-sucking surfperch well away, but it'll settle my mind if someone's looking in on him."
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But time was not there. Both Ph'yzzon and Karras were defenders of the Tamaranian people and perished in battle. Finding out later that she had miscarried Ph'yzzon's child, the last of him and his line, was devastating. After those losses, she and Dick agreed they could never go back to the love they had in their youth. Too much had changed.
She had resigned herself to the idea of never wedding again when she found the the place ( ... )
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They'd made a brief detour on the way to pick up a bottle of wine. Tula pours three glasses of it -- one she sets carefully on a reasonably flat rock where the waves shouldn't be able to get to it, a second she keeps for herself, and a third that she wordlessly offers to Kory.
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She has a suspicion, but she's misread Earth customs so many times before that it is just better to ask outright.
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She doesn't drink her wine yet, but cradles it in her hands and stares out to sea, trying to lose herself in the sounds of the waves.
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He's not supposed to be here. He's not supposed to be in this dimension, much less anywhere near Titans' Tower. He must have broken out somehow -- or maybe when Garth died, the spell had unraveled.
Honestly though, the specifics don't matter. He's here, he's dangerous, he violated her grave and her identity, and he did it to hurt Garth.
He. Would. Pay.
"SLIZZATH!" she roars into the watery depths surrounding her. "GET OUT HERE, YOU ROTTING STREAK OF CORPSE-SCUM!"
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Besides, she's going to have to tell him that she killed someone, and she knows his thoughts on killing enemies. If there's one person in the Tower who can tell her how to say it so that he'll understand, it's Donna. Fortunately it's not too late in the evening and Donna's easy to find.
"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," she says, tapping her knuckles against the frame of the open door, "but I need to talk to you about something."
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She didn't know if he'd have said anything -- she certainly wouldn't blame him if he hadn't -- but if Garth had ever told anyone the details of his transformation into Tempest, it would have been Donna. If he had, she didn't want to repeat anything.
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