yellow.flicker.beat.

Anna Novotny. 27. Professor of Classical Languages and Literature at Hailgrove University.

[novotnysiblings-blog]

you were a kindness

flaws (live acoustic version) - bastille // human - gabrielle aplin // learn me right - mumford & sons and birdy // gone gone gone - phillip phillips // i won’t give up - jason mraz // high hopes - kodaline // you were a kindness - the national // the crooked kind - radical face // gracious - ben howard // winter- daughter // november was white, december was grey - say hi // for blue skies - strays don’t sleep // end of the affair - ben howard

[annanovotny]

flashback(s) || pieces form the whole

She is sixteen - all limbs and long blonde hair and cold personality. Her current secondary school is a prestigious private academy in Northern Ireland, and her current legal guardian is presently known as Joanna Allen - a hunter who normally operates outside of the religious sect and is vague about how she feels about her current assignment of playing mother to a living weapon.

Anna (or as her classmates know her: Rose Allen) arrives as she always does when she comes home from school - coat hung neatly in the foyer, bag placed in the study, feet making their way quietly into the kitchen. 

Joanna is already set up at the kitchen island, per usual, engrossed in piles of contracts and her glasses perched low on her nose. Anna simultaneously makes herself a snack and preps supper, quietly working until Joanna finally lifts her head and acknowledges her.

"How was your day, Rose?"

"Nothing unusual to report," Anna replies as she stirs the contents of the pot on the stove in front of her. "The history papers were finally graded and I received full marks."

"And your other assignment?"

"I still have yet to find any information on Mr. Scott's illicit activities. I infiltrated his office today during free period, but uncovered nothing."

Joanna purses her lips, but doesn't say anything. She is difficult to read, though that is why Anna suspects she was assigned to her. Once she was able to correctly read Joanna, Anna had a feeling that she would soon be moving, and under a new guardian.

Joanna starts to turn her attention back to the papers in front of her, but Anna is not ready to be dismissed yet.

"Ma'am, if I may make a request?"

"Of what nature?" Joanna has not looked up at her, Anna does not have her full attention.

"Medical," Anna makes sure the food is cooking properly, and then turns fully to face her guardian. "And also social, I suppose."

A glance upward and raised eyebrow - Anna has most of her attention.

"Continue."

"I have been spending more time with the female students you pointed out a few weeks ago, and it seems to me that a precaution has not been taken in regard to my health. If I am to be intimate with other make students, it seems that it would be in my best interests to be on the pill-"

Joanna's eyes are back on the papers. "No. You have no need to be."

Anna fights back the instinct to retreat once dismissed and instead presses on. "It is not just for pregnancies, there is a matter of sexual health. STDs-"

"That is why we bought you condoms," Joanna sighs.

"I just feel that-"

"I will look into it," Joanna fully looks up. "But everything considered, I do not think your physician will recommend it. If it was an issue, he would have said something already."

"Was he not aware of the duties I would be performing?" Anna hates arguing, especially when she cannot read the other person, but her stubbornness is starting to flare up among her confusion. "I was given all of those lectures once I started puberty, he knows that-"

"You started receiving hormone injections around the same time," Joanna retorts. "I am quite familiar with your medical history." A surge of realization flashes across Joanna's face as her eyes narrow. "But how familiar are you with your medical history?"

Anna suddenly feels uncomfortable. "Those files are confidential, I do not have access-"

Joanna's raised hand stops Anna in her tracks. With her other hand, Joanna takes off her glasses and sighs once more.

"You understand that someone like you - with your... abilities - being in such a position among us hunters is rare, correct? You are an investment, a dangerous investment. The consequences of you reproducing under any circumstances were too great. Awhile ago, it was assured that... that situation would not be a possibility."

Oh.

"Oh. Thank you for correcting me. Supper will be ready in twenty minutes - I will get started on my homework."

Joanna nods, and Anna finally accepts her dismissal. She runs through Latin prayers inside her head as she quietly walks back to the study, trying to run Rose's uneasiness and fear out of her mind. It had to be Rose's emotions. She had spent too much time here, playing a single character. Rose didn't understand how these things worked - how religion and science came together to carry out the Lord's work. Of course Rose would feel upset about this news, but it wasn't Rose's body. It wasn't Anna's. It was the Lord's, and so RoseAnna accepted the news like a bitter pill and moved on.

Anna is twenty-two - a new graduate student and even newer record holder of the most kills for a hunter under twenty-five. It is a Friday night and she is in a local bar with a handful of other students, most of them already smashed. Anna has long ago mastered the (not so) art of acting drunk, though she's sure her fellow student sloppily sliding into the seat next to her would not notice if Anna was drunk or sober or even Anna.

But it's the young woman at the other side of the bar who's caught Anna's eye. Or rather, the man sitting next to her. The woman is oblivious to him, talking earnestly to her friend on her other side, and doesn't notice as the man's hand momentarily hovers over her drink.

A profound sense of anger fills Anna, which is unusual for her at this age. Her student persona has been worn for so long that Anna is finding her hard to shake, but in this moment, Anna forgets herself.

It's several years of intensive training that keep her composed as she casually makes her way across the bar, all the way until she's behind the man and wrapping one arm around his waist.

"Plans for tonight?" She purrs into his ear, and as he turns to look at her, Anna grabs the opportunity to slide her knife out of her sleeve and press it firmly against his stomach.

"Ah, I feel much more comfortable now," she smiles as the man's face contorts into panic. Her free hand grips his shoulder, and she firmly forces him to remain seating. "Act natural, will you? We wouldn't want to make a scene."

He sneers - still clearly shaken, but also angry. "Look, whoever you think you are-"

"Oh, it doesn't matter who I think I am," she grips his shoulder even tighter as he makes a brief struggle to break free. He was terrible at acting casual, but that was probably one of the reasons why he had to resort to drugs to do work for him. "Please, shut up, put a charming grin on your face, and act like you aren't being held against your will. This should be easy for you, as deception seems to be your forte."

His snarl momentarily deepens before he takes a deep breath and resignedly complies. Anna smiles - a pleasant smile she nowhere near means - and leans in closer. 

"Now, you are going to do exactly what I tell you, all while still maintaining this lovely little facade of ours, or this knife is going to go so deep into your gut and with such force that not even the most intensive autopsy will be able to figure out the details of the damage. Are you listening to me?"

He nods.

"Very good. First, I want you to take a drink. No, not yours. The one next to you. Don't worry about the technical theft - that woman seems to be too far engrossed into her conversation to notice, and I'm sure if she knew the whole story, she would be thankful that she did not drink from it.

"Got it? Good. Now, bottoms up. I want that glass empty when you put it back down."

His eyes are dark with anger, but Anna is angry as well, and she has the knife.

"Do you have any idea what you're asking?" He hisses, a scowl once again crossing his features.

Anna tuts, pressing the side of the blade against his side even harder until he forces the scowl off his face.

"Drink."

Several moments pass as they glare at each other, the darkness in Anna's eyes being the only break in her character. The noise around them remains ambient. No one else is aware of the clash of wills battling it out among them, but then again, Anna has no intention of bringing it to light. And Anna is very good at what she does.

Finally, with one more press of the blade, the man drinks. He slams the now empty-glass down on the counter, but Anna discreetly turns her head to such a degree where the bartender only frowns at them, but turns back to his job.

"Now, pay for the drink. Both yours and the lady's."

The man, still bitterly silent, grabs his wallet out of his jacket pocket and places several bills on the counter. Once satisfied, Anna forces him up, arm still around him in a way that looked perfectly normal for a couple leaving a bar together. Her knife is back inside her sleeve - she has no more need for it.

It's a battle out of the bar, the man still trying to fight Anna as the drug starts to take effect. Anna laughs as he bumps into a table, apologizing to the group seated there for her friend's drunken state. It's barely an effort for Anna to keep up the charade, but once they're finally out of the bar and in an alley one block over, all traces of her character are now vanished.

She drops him onto a pile of trash next to a dumpster, pointedly ignoring his mutterings of "stupid bitch". 

"Don't try to move," she places a foot over his ankle. "You'll find yourself unable to go very far."

"What... what are you gonna do?" He finally sounds more scared than angry.

"I bet you have a few ideas, don't you? But I'm not a savage. I'm leaving. You're staying here."

His words start to slur. "You can't leave me here."

"Can't I? You're in no position to fight back. But you know that, or else you wouldn't have spiked that drink."

Anna crouches down, her anger held back in a tight spring. "You're not going to remember the details of tonight. But you will have speculations. Fears. And you will live the rest of your life unable to confirm or unconfirm them.

"But unlike your intended victim, you will know the reason you ended up in such a state. And that is something - in fact, the only thing - you share with your intended victim, or would, if you had been successful; the fact that this night will haunt you the rest of your life."

Anna is cold and calculating and skilled at being what she is not, but she is also human. The feeling she gets as she punches the man's face is an unusual one, but she puts it away to contemplate later.

Tonight had gone terribly off course, but it was only a minor bump in the long road ahead. Soon she would forget all about the Friday night in a college town bar where she left behind her carefully-constructed persona to think of someone other than herself. 

But it would not be the last time.

Anna is twenty-seven (or twenty-eight, she hasn't bothered to check) - full of bitter resolve and stubbornly refusing to remove the faded green sweater she has been wearing for the past week. She has thrown herself headfirst into the new school year, taking on additional courses and offering one-on-one sessions to those students she determines have enough potential. 

Anna Novotny, the professor and ancient languages enthusiast, is thriving in the new year.

Anna Novotny, the hunter fallen from grace, has been shoved into a dark, hidden corner to nurse her wounds as she is slowly forgotten.

The latter has been all but lost in denial, until three quick raps on her open office door brings her back out from the shadows.

"Elias," Professor Anna greets, because Disgraced Hunter Anna is not fit to have visitors. "What an unexpected pleasure."

He grins, walking into the office and shutting the door behind him. "Okay, the door's shut. You can drop the act now. It's kinda creepy."

"You've been around this act long enough to be used to it," Professor Anna curtly replies. "Now, what brings you all the way to Portland?"

"Business, per usual," Elias smirks as he uninvitedly takes a seat in one of the chairs in front of Anna's desk. "I need a favor."

"We don't do favors." Anna places down her pen, preparing for a long exchange. 

"Most of the time. But I'm afraid that this time we might have to make an exception."

Anna leans back in her chair and sighs.

"Like I said," Elias continues, "I am here on business. And I need a place to crash until I'm finished."

"This has to be the sloppiest proposal I have ever heard-"

He laughs. "Oh, please. If that was my intention, you know I would do better than that. Really, I just need a non-conspicuous place to spend the night."

"And what is it about my apartment that is somehow less conspicuous than a motel room?"

The older hunter clicks his teeth. "I have reason to suspect that a few of my superiors are... displeased with me. I would rather not check into a hotel room, only to be killed in my sleep."

"If that's the case, then what makes you think that I am not working with your superiors, waiting for you to ask for this favor so I can kill you in your sleep?"

He shrugs. "I don't. All I can do is trust that you won't."

"We don't trust each other. Isn't that our rule?"

"This time, I'm willing to make a gambit. Just one night, that's all I need."

They didn't trust each other. That was their rule. Anna didn't make gambits, that was her rule. As Elias - true to his word - leaves the next morning, Anna has a sinking feeling that she has made a terrible mistake.

Anna is twenty-eight, or twenty-nine, or who even cares anymore - and she is sick. She is not used to physical weakness on such grand a scale and is repulsed. It seems like all she does anymore is look for a way to cure herself - as if curing a physical ailment would be the answer to the rest of her problems.

Her apartment is filled with books and medical journals, of several laptops open with files shining brightly through the screens. A pile of empty take-out containers grows steadily in one corner - she had long ago stopped trying to argue with Sam on the matter of regularly eating - and Anna is momentarily distracted as one carton falls from the top of the pile.

Anna sighs and runs her fingers through her hair. All of the science and medical journals in the world couldn't help her when another, otherworldly force was in play. She would have to investigate years of research about how powered beings came to be, and the mysterious abilities that they somehow had. It would be a difficult task, and she was tired.

She turns her head to suggest to Sam that they retire for the night, but Sam has fallen asleep beside her, face planted on the open book he was reading. He had been so stubbornly insistent on helping her, working alongside her until they both wore down, that Anna slipped a sleeping pill in one of his many coffees. She had felt a bit bad about it, whispers of deceit floating around her mind, but Sam had dark circles around his eyes, and looks years older than he did a few months back. Though, she probably looks the same, if not worse.

She has half a mind to leave him there, but Anna would hate to return a book with drool stains inside, and so she picks Sam up - a bit shakily, she bitterly notes - and deposits him onto the couch a few steps behind them. The irony of the situation is not lost on her, even as she sloppily throws a blanket over his sleeping form.

Despite her near-constant state of exhaustion, she faces the reality that she will be unable to sleep tonight. But more research was not the answer, or else she worries she will end up setting fire to a book or several. After making sure Sam is still sleeping soundly, Anna quietly makes her way into her bedroom and shuts the door. She has no plans for sleep, or even for changing her clothes, but instead manipulates her phone in her hands. Thinking. Worrying.

Sam had been a relief, a welcome confidence among her ongoing storm. But there was still a hesitancy there - too many old tragedies still being dragged around. It was a long process of cutting them off, especially when the both of them were so obstinate in character.

There are certain phone calls Anna wants to make despite herself. Phone calls born out of emotion, out of a desperate need for... something she can't yet place.

First, Elias - the only friend she had for what was the longest time. The friend she didn't trust, or even like. Perhaps "friend" was too nice a term. But whatever that term was, it had meant something, and even though she had full knowingly took a risky gambit, she still wants to call, still wants to accuse.

"I know what you did. I know you knew I would figure it out, and did it regardless. When you agreed to infect me - however exactly you did - did you know the full story? Or did you just do it because you were bored and had nothing better to do?"

They had a certain understanding about trust, or the lack of it. Maybe she doesn't want to know why. Maybe she just wants someone to blame. Even if she would do the same in his place. (She's thought about it. Hates herself for the answer, but doesn't regret it.)

But in the long run, Elias means nothing. He was disposable, and Anna had always liked that about him. It was when people started to become indispensable, when she grew wary.

A call to Tay wasn't totally unreasonable. An extra pair of eyes, an extra brain. Someone in her shadow Anna could dump extra work onto without complaint. How much would she be risking, to give Tay a thread or two into this mess? Tay was obedient, but she wasn't stupid. She would be curious. She would figure it out.

"Yes, I'm sick. Don't make a big deal out of it. Just do your work. Find whatever answers you can, but don't be desperate about it."

The imaginary conversation alone is making her cringe. No, Tay would stay in the dark. Anna was not ready to take such a risk, open herself to such vulnerability. Opening herself to Sam was difficult enough, and they both avoided sentiment if their lives depended on it.

Sam wasn't always like that - and even now, isn't all the time. She knows of his friends, sees how his face lights up when he talks to Dev or how he playfully smirks when he talks to Ant and Anna knows Sam wasn't meant to be like her. Closed off.

Because Anna was always like that, until she wasn't, and then was again. If Megan was still around, still talking to her - if Anna hadn't messed up so horribly and so staggeringly - what would Anna even say? What would she say now, after everything?

"I'm scared. I don't know what to do and I'm scared. I still look to you for comfort when I'm scared and I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

But it wasn't entirely Anna's fault, wasn't it? It's the fourth call that she almost makes that night, her fingers trembling across the keypad -

But she doesn't. Ultimately, she is still too scared, even as the unsaid words burn through her in waves of acid.

"You did this to me. God isn't punishing me, you are. It was always you."

The intensity of her rage is sickening and exhausting and Anna no longer wants to think, wants to feel. She sinks down into her bed, her phone carelessly dropped to the floor.

It's not my fault.

But she still blamed herself. It was the only way she knew how to cope.

It's not my fault.

She pushes all thoughts of anyone and everyone out of her mind before she yelled herself hoarse at them.

It's not my fault.

If only it was.

[annanovotny]

flashback || i was watching you well

 It was about time Anna drew a line in the sand.

The line was decades in the making: every moment in her life building up, pressurizing into this final moment where she finally pushed back against those who had forcibly molded her into the monstrosity she was today.

Because they had threatened Megan. They could abuse Anna, torture her, traumatize her, attempt to assassinate her, it didn't matter. But they dared to threaten Megan, and Anna would not stand for it.

"I demand to know why my orders were overturned," she argues into the screen as her superior on the other end scowls. Despite the occasional flickering on the screen suggesting a shaky connection, Anna continues to press forward. "I gave explicit instructions that the healer was not to be harmed, that I was handling her. So why was her assassination ordered?"

"She should have been eliminated months ago," her superior - Guilo Vito, an ugly bastard who, despite being Dmitiry Novotny's right hand, never seemed to hate Anna - argues. Vito looks like hell, and perhaps if Anna wasn't so acutely focused on Megan's safety, she would wonder why he looked like he lost fifty pounds and had such prominent dark circles under his eyes.

"Despite what her personality profile claims," Vito continues, "her abilities make her a more immediate threat. We cannot allow a healer to remain on campus, using their abilities on our other targets-"

"If the hunters on campus did their jobs correctly," Anna interrupts, "then having a healer among them would not matter. A healer cannot bring someone back from the dead."

If they did their jobs correctly. If they did their jobs correctly, Megan could very well be dead. It shouldn't be that way. Megan shouldn't be alive only through the incompetence of others and lucky timing on Anna's behalf. Megan should be alive because no one will attempt to kill her. It's all Anna can do to not spirit Megan away somewhere safe, somewhere were the threat of death was not looming over them like a thick, dark cloud. It was a tempting thought, even now, as Anna puts her reputation, her profession, and quite possibly even her life on the line. 

"Tell me," Vito leans in, his sickly face filling up most all of the screen, "why it is so important to you that the healer lives."

"Should it matter? My record speaks for itself. A high kill rate, a clean sheet; I have exceeded every single expectation set before me and then some. I have proven myself time and time again, proven that I am more than capable. Why now, after so many years, are my orders being questioned?"

Vito is unfazed. "Answer the original question."

Anna piercingly inhales. She had a gambit, one that could very well work, but in order to save Megan, she would have to compromise her further.

"The healer is also an empath," she slows her words, cautiously working her way through the minefield around her. "I was not aware of this fact when she was first assigned to my class, but I began working with her as she approached me for tutoring assistance. She was eager, and naive, and I was easily able to befriend her. Through her and her empath abilities, I have located many other powered, others that our own sources have not found yet."

Anna carefully forms her next sentence, ignoring the sense of disgust and dismay that fills her. "The healer is a tool I am merely utilizing. Quite frankly, she serves us better alive rather than dead."

"You should have informed us about this."

"As I have stated earlier, my methods had never been questioned until now. I did not see a reason to inform you of my every move."

A tense silence fills the air as Anna and Vito stare each other down. Behind her steely facade, Anna's mind is whirling, already constructing several plans of action should her gambit fail. Her priority was getting Megan safe, even if Anna had to physically pick her up and carry her to a safer location herself. She knows of several off the grid locations where not even the most invasive scouts are aware of. Megan will be safe. There was no other option.

"No matter your reasoning," Vito finally continues, as if their staring competition never happened, "there are those here who now question your loyalty to our cause."

Anna's mind whirs faster, her fingers digging into her palm.

"There is a telepath on campus. You have until the end of the week to eliminate her and prove yourself once again."

Anna almost visibly exhales. That was all she had to do to keep Megan safe? Kill someone else? It almost seemed too fair a trade.

"The telepath will be dead before sunrise," she vows. "And perhaps in the future my loyalty will not be questioned under such mediocre circumstances." 

Vito's eyebrows furrow, further wrinkling his ashen face. "You forget yourself, child. Tread carefully. There is no use for sentiment in this profession."

The screen flashes dark, and Anna lets out the breath she was holding the entire call. Her gambit had worked for now, but it wasn't enough.

She would not allow Megan's life to be placed in such a risk again. It was clear that Hailgrove was not safe for her, and it would not be safe for Anna much longer. And Anna would get them out, she would assure Megan's safety once and for all. Megan would not like it, being so quickly uprooted, and she would like it even less when Anna explained why.

But Anna would explain everything, because Megan deserved the truth. She would get Megan to safety and then confess everything, and even if Megan never wanted to see Anna again, she would be safe, and that was all that mattered.

But before Megan could live, someone else had to die. 

Anna was ready to make that sacrifice. 

[novotnysiblings-blog]

there were so many red flags [L I S T E N]

abraham’s daughter - arcade fire // bow to string iii. air to breath - daniel bjarnason // yellow flicker beat - lorde // the winter soldier - henry jackman // bones - ms mr // for now i am winter (feat. arnór dan) - ólafur arnalds // intervention - arcade fire // you are no son of mine - ramin djawadi // mistaken for strangers - the national // ashes - hilary hahn & hauschka silfra // battle cry (feat. sia) - angel haze // hide the damage - murray gold // elastic heart (feat. diplo) - sia // elegia - jacaszek // birdcage religion - sleeping at last // the long song - murray gold // þú ert jörðin - ólafur arnalds // gortoz a ran / j’attends - lisa gerrard & denez prigent

[annanovotny]

no one's here to sleep || tay & anna

Her body is exhausted, her powers running then on days upon weeks of no sleep and strenuous activity. It frustrates her, how the cancer-like disease slowly eating away at her is only getting worse, and how nothing out of what little she's found so far serves even a remotely helpful purpose in finding a cure. Anna can no longer stand her apartment - the lab reminding her of her continuing failure and her abandoned bedroom mocking her with the nightmares she is tormented by whenever she closes her eyes. Her office will serve well enough for her late-night research sessions.

She's almost - almost - too tired to be bothered by the sudden disruption. Anna doesn't hide her look of disdain as she swipes loose papers into a random folder, angered that her privacy was so crudely violated. Her hair is a mess, loosely pulled back in a pun, and her usual attire instead replaced with jeans and Megan's sweater. Recognizing her new visitor adds only another layer to her anger: Tay, while informing Anna of her sudden departure months ago, had left far too abruptly for Anna to be comfortable with. Tay wasn't officially Anna's subordinate, no, but the abrupt lack of control on Anna's end was enough to have Anna more than cross with Tay.

"Please, have a seat," she scowls as Tay pushes forward several documents across her desk, already seated in front of her. Anna grabs the papers, skimming through the information Tay deemed important enough to justify barging into her office at an ungodly hour of night. As she reads, she can feel her heart clench, her breathing grow even more shallow than it already was.

She looks up at Tay, masking her surprise with even more anger. Anna tries to steady her breathing, slowly speaking through teeth she struggles not to clench. "So tell me, Octavia, why you believe that this information warrants barging into my office at such a late hour, ignoring all sense of protocol? Tell me, why I must be the one to be on the receiving end of this information, instead of anyone else? I am sure your rationalization will astound me."

[annanovotny]

at the curtain's call || sam & anna

[samuelkennedy-blog]

Sam couldn’t understand why, of all people, Anna would be a target. In the nearly ten years that he’d known her, she’d always seemed to have a giant stick up her ass. She was the most by-the-book Hunter Sam had ever met and absolutely the last person he would think the Hunters would turn on. The why didn’t matter, though, because Anna was breaking down in front of him and with each word, Sam could feel his own tough skin shedding.

He dropped his arms and with them his defenses and finally took a seat, leaning over the edge of the desk with his hands clasped in his lap. “I don’t know what happened and, frankly, I don’t care, but…” He paused, looking away briefly as he bit his lower lip. If you don’t deserve to live, then who does? As he turned back to Anna, he shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best to keep himself from letting too much of his own emotions get in the way of what he wanted to say. “I’ll help you; for no other reason than because you’re family and because… despite all of our differences, you’ve had my back. That’s something I can’t genuinely deny.”

It was strange for Sam to be sitting before Anna and having a conversation without that god-awful clock reminding him that his time to prove himself was limited. He scanned the rest of the desk quickly and noticed that the clock wasn’t the only thing missing. Why did she clear her desk? Just as the question entered his mind, the answer did as well.

Fear.

"You’re right," he said finally, choosing to ignore his sudden urge to bring up their last meeting. He hadn’t realized just how much of an impact his actions would have, but if she would go so far as to remove all of the items from her desktop, he figured it wasn’t something that should be brought up. "They’re cowards and we should have figured that out months ago when we found out that they were hiding our pasts from us." Sam sighed and moved his chair closer to the desk. "Look, even though we haven’t seen eye to eye on a lot of things and even if you’re not exactly my favorite person…” He paused and looked up at Anna, locking his eyes with hers. “I can’t abandon the only real family I have. I don’t know about you, but that’s important to me. Family. You, by extension.”

[annanovotny]

Anna feels the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding slowly exhale as Sam sits down. This was good. This was normal. This was something she was familiar with. She could handle this. If she were alone, she would cry tears of relief. The adrenaline high from moments earlier - the fear - was shakily flooding through her system, losing means of channeling itself. 

She feels apprehension flicker again as Sam speaks - flicker, but not spark anew. "You're family... you've had my back..." The words ring eerily similar to conversations she's had with Megan, but Megan is gone and she had opened herself up and the sudden void hurt so much, and if she let Sam near that void, would he cause her pain too? Anna brushes the thought away as best she can. She had asked Sam here. She had asked for this. Once again, she would have to open herself up; the bare wounds she had just exposed to Sam would still be exposed for a long time to come. 

Family used to mean something to Anna, when her mother was still alive and her father loved her and the people she lived with treated her as human. But her mother was dead, her father was disappointed in her (hated her, despised her), and those people she had considered family were now distant co-workers, if anything. But family meant something to Sam, and she would use that to her advantage for as long as she could. Perhaps she would even come to understand how family could be important - if she knew once, she had forgotten now.

Sam's eyes pierce hers and she turns her attention downwards. (how peculiar, how they had the same eyes, yet Sam's were not so broken and empty. He had demons of his own that Anna could only imagine). Anna silently opens a desk drawer and retrieves a flash drive, slowly sliding it across the desk to Sam. "This drive contains all of the information you will need to catch up with what I currently know. Seeing as that you do not have an eidectic memory and the ability to retain several disciplines worth of medical degrees like I do, I have taken the liberty of making this as easy to process as possible." She should probably thank him, but she isn't sure how. "I have even added footnotes," she adds as an afterthought.

"You may get back to me whenever you are caught up. Take your time. You know where to find me." Unspoken words tremble inside her mouth. Apologies with no certain specifics, broken accusations, wavering cries. She had exposed enough of herself today. Best not to bleed out entirely. Not yet.

[annanovotny]

at the curtain's call || sam & anna

[samuelkennedy-blog]

Sam shifts his weight slightly as Anna speaks, but remains standing with his feet firmly planted. He hadn’t noticed it before, but once she had said it out loud - that she was ‘sick’ (whatever that really meant) - he scanned her and for the first time noticed the gauntness; the paleness; the exhaustion. There was a knot in his chest that he did his best to ignore. She didn’t care about him and now she was expecting him to just drop everything and help?

"Sorry to hear that," he stated calmly, in as detached a voice as he could muster. "I don’t really see why you need my help. It’s not like you’ve ever shown any sign of giving a fuck about me, so why should I care now? Just because I’m your brother?” He paused, arms now crossed on his chest. “I mean, you know, excuse me for not jumping on this, but I don’t see why I should give a shit. You’re sick, right? Go see a doctor. I don’t have time for this bullshit.”

Anna never needed anyone for any reason but just because she was saying she needed him now didn’t mean he had to do a damn thing about it. She just wanted him to keep an eye on whatever virus she had and while it surely would have been an easy job to do, it wasn’t going to be easy to get Sam to say yes.

Anna is your family. She’s all the family you have and might ever have. Help her.

He sighed before relaxing slightly, but the tension remained thick. “Why should I help you, huh? Tell me the truth, Anna. What is this and what’s in it for me?”

[annanovotny]

Sam is right. Sam is absolutely right. He knows it, Anna knows it, and Anna knows Sam knows she knows it. With each word out of his mouth, she feels herself shrinking, growing smaller and smaller as each truth clangs against her. She still feels her anger, swimming beneath the surface, ready to lash out and defend what little of herself she has left. 

"I have nothing to offer you." Her voice is weak, but she doesn't bother trying to cover it up. She couldn't hide now, not in front of Sam. "I am here, in front of you, all but on my knees because I have no options left. Help me, or do not. Whatever you decide, I will not argue you. I do not deserve your help, I know that. I will not blame you if you walk out of that door right now and never look back."

She pauses, and Sam doesn't leave, so she continues, forcing out all that she can before she breaks completely. “I have already ruled out the possibility of going to a doctor. I have strong reason to believe that this virus is man-made, specifically designed to counteract my abilities. I believe that my father wants me dead, and he, indirectly or not, is responsible for this virus. Or at least, if it's not my death he seeks, I am at least once again a pawn in his morbid games.

"I know I am a target because I let…” She stops, unready to say Megan’s name aloud yet. “Because I failed. The only reason I failed is because I chose to. I chose to fail, and that sent me down a path I cannot return from. I refuse to comply with them any further. If they want to play with me, then I will fight back. I am done being the victim.”

The words had never been spoken aloud before, in fact, Anna had never truly considered them before. Victim. She had been a victim before she was even old enough to know what the word meant. Speaking the truth out loud felt freeing, despite the fear. Despite the other truths still hidden away in the darker parts of her mind. Help me because the bullet to my temple failed me and I do not know what else to do. Help me because I cannot help myself, because I have nothing else to live for but vengeance. Help me because you are my brother and I am your sister and they are killing me and I am lost and I am afraid and I am weak and please just smile and stop the pain even for a second just please help me

"That is it. That is my plea. The truth of what is happening." Anna doesn't mention the dark nights in her apartment, going from gun to water to knives, trying to beat her curse. But just as her abilities were failing her with the virus, so they had failed her again, granting her a continued existence. The result of that irony is what she does share. "I do not deserve to live. I know that. But I will not let them kill me. If I die, it will not be because of them." She looks back up at Sam, a brief surge of adrenaline filling her. "They made you a victim too. At the very least, help me because we both are just pawns to them. We deserve a better death, wouldn't you agree?"

[annanovotny]

at the curtain's call || sam & anna

[samuelkennedy-blog]

Anna was the last person Sam wanted to see. He was still angry and frustrated (he’d worked out his resentment of her for the most part) even after he’d done his best to try and forget what had taken place in her office. It was a lot harder without Tay around. She’d finally heard from Leo and run off back to Detroit to meet up with and get the answers she had been waiting years for.

Sam envied Tay in a way he had never imagined he ever would. She and her brother were extremely close and he had always kept a close eye on her even when he was off doing his own thing (such as running away to Europe all those years ago.) Now Sam finally had the chance for to have family he’d always wanted — a sister of his own whom he instinctively wanted to take care of — but might never fully obtain. Not that he’d been allowed any sort of choice in the matter. Anna, at best, detested Sam (she made that perfectly clear over the years) and her rejection of him was all he needed to believe that family was really fucking overrated.

When Sam’s phone flashed a notification for a new email, he thought about ignoring it, but the only people who ever emailed him were his superiors and as much as he would have liked to avoid anyone even remotely involved in the tangled web of lies he now found himself at the center of, hunting was his job and he had been raised to always prioritize his work over everything else.

The surprising part about the email was not that it was from Anna, but rather that in it, she requested his presence at her office. It was inevitable that they would have to interact, but given the amount of time that had passed, Sam wasn’t even sure if she was still active any longer.

For the first time, Sam dressed professionally; combing his hair, covering his tattoos with the long sleeves of a collared button down, trading his contacts for the prescription lenses that had been collecting dust for years. He told himself that he wasn’t doing this to impress Anna or change her opinion of him, but simply to appear as though he had come out of the ordeal unscathed. It wasn’t the way he normally dressed, however, so the statement was more than likely going to be misinterpreted.

He entered the office and stood, hands clasped in front of him, tall and somewhat rigid behind the chair he had previously sat in at least twice a week. “I’m fine, thanks,” he replied. He stared at her with an unapologetic intensity, his voice carrying a hint of that same spite from before as he spoke. “I’d prefer to stand, if that’s alright with you.”

[annanovotny]

She doesn't quite know what to make of the person in front of her - so professionally put together with a polished tone to his words. He looks exactly like Anna had wished he had looked - back when her biggest annoyance was a subordinate who refused to wear a tie and slouched wherever he sat. But now, she has much larger things to focus on, and her brother looks like a stranger. Brother. Keep saying it to yourself. Get used to it. Embrace it. You have to. "Whatever is more comfortable for you." Her grin is small and fake - she would much prefer Sam down at eye level, slouching the way he always did, in the manner she was used to and was even comfortable with - but she was in no place to make demands. Not today.

The words are harder to get out than she expected them to be. Sam doesn't look like Sam and Sam doesn't sound like Sam and Anna feels as if she is talking to a stranger, and she doesn't open up to strangers, not now, not ever. She forces herself to look in Sam's eyes, forcing herself to focus on the small glimmer of the boy she once knew still hiding behind his spiteful gaze. From the day they had met, she had hated Sam, but pretending she was talking to the young boy was easier than facing the man in front of her, the man who was angry with her and for all intents and purposes, surely must hate her. Sam didn't always hate her, and she clung to that truth. Her last hope.

“I asked you here…” She pauses, the words hitching on the tip of her tongue. She takes it in, the last moment she has before compromising decades worth of self-preservation. “I asked you here because I am sick. My,” (powers, curse, abilities… she still doesn't quite know what to refer to them as yet) “body cannot heal itself. It seems that with every attempt my body makes at purging the virus, the fiercer the virus strikes back. I fear soon that my physical well-being will be irreparably compromised, if not already.”

“I need a third person to monitor this virus for me. I have done a sufficient job of doing so myself initially, but matters are escalating. Being infected myself, I cannot directly look at this through an unbiased lens. I need… I need you, Sam. I do not have anyone else, and I know our last meeting ended on awful terms, but you are the only person I can trust with this.”

She takes a deep breath, swallowing the rest of her pride. Swallowing the tears she refused to let fall, refused to even form at the base of her eyes. “Please, Sam. Please help me.”

[annanovotny]

at the curtain's call || sam & anna

It had been months since she had last seen Sam. Anna had interacted with him, of course, through brief email reports and the like, and she had seen him in passing on campus at least once a week, but she had not had a face-to-face interaction with him since their last big talk. She should be grateful, after all, Sam was a never-ending source of irritation for her, but suddenly having a life devoid of nagging banter and frustrating smirks was... peculiar. It was hard to place blame of frustration on someone who was no longer there.

She thinks about it for two weeks before sending the email, wrestling with her pride as she struggles to figure out exactly how to go about this. Anna finally sends it, a brief "Report, my office, five o'clock". She hopes Sam's sense of professionalism would bear its head long enough for him to actually come. She wouldn't blame him if he did not come, but they were raised to put such feelings behind them. In theory, it would work.

Anna cleared her desk of anything other than her computer, even placing the small placard that read "Anna Novotny, D.Litt." inside her desk drawer. She hated herself for feeling so nervous, for seeing a clock being thrown at her every time she closed her eyes. But she couldn't hate Sam for it, not when she needed his help. She couldn't allow herself to hate him, at least for now.

By the time Sam finally arrives, Anna has wrestled her pride down to a placated position, but pride swims alongside hate and she's struggling to keep them both at bay. "Samuel." She nods to the chairs in front of her desk, keeping her voice as detached as she possibly can. "Please, have a seat." 

[annanovotny]

killers are calling on me || solo

It was her fault.

Megan was gone, and it was her fault.

As much as Megan had cried and no matter what words she spoke, Anna couldn’t bring herself to care for Emma or Julian. The only thing she cared about was the pain Megan was in and the connections those two had to it. She had meant it, when she told Megan she would do everything over again. Megan’s safety was her top priority, no matter how many times she had tried to deny it to her superiors, to herself.

And now Megan was gone. And It was her fault.

It had happened quietly, with barely a whisper. In fact, it was a whisper that first made Anna aware of it. A hushed comment from a student walking past her in the quad, a comment about a Megan Frasier who lost it and left for New York. Anna checked in with her connections in the administrations office to confirm what she had feared: Megan was gone. Far, far away from Hailgrove.

At least it would be easier for Anna to keep her vow about never seeing Megan again.

She lets the bitterness take over her. It floats along top the apathy, running thick and slow around her heart. She spends spring break away on several hunts, imagining herself in the position of every powered she kills. She imagines her neck snapping, her heart being pierced by a knife, her lungs being corroded by poison gas. Soon, the lines begin to blur and she stops caring, she just kills because she knows that thinking about anything else would just cause her pain.

She returns from spring break to an apartment filled with ghost of the one person she cannot make herself forget. Anna debates the pros and cons of moving to a new place over the summer, if the construction and moving of several hidden doors and materials would be worth the abandoning of a ghost of someone still living. (She decides to stay where she is. She knows Megan will haunt her no matter where she goes.)

It doesn’t take long for her to unpack, she never brings much with her. Anna strips out of her clothes, putting them into a neat pile with the rest of her hunting clothes for a special cleaning. She changes into sweats and a tank top, painfully casual clothes she’s only recently adopted into her wardrobe. Moving to the main room, she sits in the chair closest to her (the chair she sat in as she watched Megan sleep off the adrenaline of an attack, the chair she sat in the last time she saw Megan before everything changed, but she won’t think about any of that).

She sits back, slowing her breathing and allowing her emotions to run down. She had to go back to being the cold, analytical killer she was raised to be. It was a good thing, that she no longer had Megan to cloud her thinking. Sam, even, was an unneeded distraction. She worked better alone. Being alone hurt less, emotionally. Physically was another story.

Confident that her breathing was regulated and her heartbeat back to normal, Anna methodically runs a check on her condition. She had done it so much, could do such in her sleep, should she choose to. She moves to the hidden room of her apartment, the one not in the official blueprints and hidden behind a bookcase. What was once a room dedicated to her arsenal of weapons and hunting gear is now a lab, where she spends much more time than she would like.

In there, she continues her check-up, ending with the usual blood sample. Her fingers uncontrollably twitch as she places her freshly drawn blood sample under the microscope. She grimaces. It was her most irksome symptom, the one most noticeable to the naked eye and the one most likely to cause a glitch in a job where precision was everything.

The blood tests are disheartening. There is only a slight change, barely noticeable, but enough to suggest the very thing Anna feared: her condition was only getting worse. Her white blood cells were ignoring the invading cells. But how? The past few months have offered her plenty of time to research the necessary subjects (at this rate, she could apply for a PhD soon), but they offered no answer. In fact, it seemed that the more she learned, the less clear her situation seemed to be.

Previously, the longest Anna had ever been sick was for one day, three hours, and forty one minutes. She knows this, because she was purposely infected with a fatal disease so her monitors could see how her powers reacted. Her powers had reacted accordingly to the invading cells, and healed her in just over a day’s time. To this day, she is the only survivor of that disease.

She was supposed to be rid of this disease. It was what her powers did, they allowed her to adapt to any serious situations, physical or mental. She had survived fatal diseases, poisons, falls from several-story heights, drowning, burning, crushing from several tons of weight… all with no long-term scars.

But this disease was not letting up. It was getting worse. At this current rate…

She was dying.

Anna had accepted death a long time ago. Most times, she wishes for it, as long as it ends with the nothingness God vows doesn’t exist. But suffering in even more agony until she breathes her last? It would be a trying time.

Her breathing grows shallow, and she blames it on the disease. 

[meganfrasier-blog]

Afraid of Everyone || Anna & Megan

[meganfrasier-blog]

Anna has left the knife on the floor, tainted slightly with Megan’s blood—Megan looks down at her hand to see that the wound has already healed over. She’s guessing that she isn’t exhausted from healing because she was so focused on yelling at Anna.

She looks up from her hand at nothing in particular, then she crouches down next to the knife, wrapping her arms around herself and finally letting the sobs that had been building up since she first found Julian rack her body fully.

The beginning of the year. That was what was on her mind right now. Julian had showed up to Hailgrove, asking for Megan’s advice on what to do about Lucille. Megan had approached Anna, asking about her t-shirt. Megan had just met Emma, and she had gone to Julian countless times about her, and later on, she had gone to Anna many times about her, too.

"Emma’s mad at me, and I have no idea what to do. I mean, I haven’t had sex in weeks—”

Anna’s face had fallen slightly, obviously very weirded out at the prospect of someone who had basically been like her new sister at the time having sex. “What?”

"Oh, come on, Anna," Megan said, groaning and throwing a pillow at Anna. "Sex. Like, it used to be a ‘once-every-other-day’ thing at least, and we just haven’t—”

"I know what you meant. I was simply—I—I’m going to go put some tea on."

Another occasion, where Megan had been stressing out about the SATs—she had nearly been on the verge of tears. This was near the beginning of Anna and Megan’s relationship.

"I don’t know what to do. If I fail the SATs—"

"You will not."

"If I do, though. That means my whole thing with ‘having more options for careers after school’ thing is completely blown out of the water.’" Megan started to tear up a little. "What do I do then?"

Anna had nodded, not agreeing with Megan when she said she would fail, but agreeing that Megan’s options would be a lot more limited if she failed the SATs.

"You’re very smart, Megan," Anna said, "You need to give yourself more credit."

Anna thinks I’m smart. That had been one of the first times Anna had said anything substantially encouraging to Megan—their first few tutoring sessions had usually ended with Megan being frustrated with the material Anna was giving her, or Anna being frustrated with Megan not understanding certain concepts. If Anna thinks I’m smart…

Well, Megan pretty much believed she could do anything at that moment. She wiped the tears from her eyes and gave Anna a genuine smile, nodding.

"Thank you, Anna."

Had all of that been a lie? Was that all just Anna setting it all up so that Megan would trust her with her life, so that Megan would tell Anna everything there was to say about her abilities? 

It must have been. 

Megan stared at the knife in front of her, reaching out for it. She wanted to go to Julian and cry in front of him. She wanted him to hug her and tell her she was being silly. She wanted him to call her ‘Bug’ and ruffle her hair and steal the food she was eating, or to berate him for constantly drinking orange juice out of the carton, instead of out of a cup.

That wasn’t going to happen now.

Megan stood slowly, still holding the knife in her hand. Students started coming in as she did, though, and she quickly placed it inside one of the drawers of the podium. Anna will find that later. 

She looked around the lecture hall one last time.

Then she walked away.

[annanovotny]

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[meganfrasier-blog]

Afraid of Everyone || Anna & Megan

[meganfrasier-blog]

Megan immediately takes a step back when Anna reaches into her jacket—it’s sad, really; how her instincts now recognize Anna as the dangerous one, how they tell her that Anna is the one Megan needs to protect herself from.

She’s never seen Anna cry before, and it’s startling, but Megan doesn’t let that show—Anna is likely well-rehearsed with this kind of thing. Megan doesn’t believe a word she says.

Megan wipes the tears off her face with the sleeve of her sweater, leaving her hand covering her mouth as she stares at the knife.

She doesn’t have many options, if any. Taking the knife and running it through Anna—actually doing it—isn’t in consideration for her, not one bit; but she can’t go to the police without revealing herself and all of the other powered friends she has at Hailgrove, and potentially causing the death of Anna. She sure as hell can’t go to one of the administrators at Hailgrove—now that Megan knows that Anna is one of them, anyone could be one of them.

"I can’t do anything about this," she says quietly, moving her hand down and running her hand along the blade of the knife Anna has set down (for all she knows, this could have been the weapon Anna used to try and kill Emma). "I don’t know how many more people you’ve killed, and I don’t want to know. But there is absolutely nothing I can do about the things you’ve done. I don’t know if you know that—you probably do." She turns her gaze up and glares up at Anna, defiance and hatred in her eyes. Megan picks up the knife and takes a step towards her. "But I hope you lose sleep every night, Anna," she says, turning the knife around so that the blade is in her hand and the handle is towards Anna, jabbing the handle into Anna’s stomach. "I hope you see my face, and Emma’s face, and Julian’s face, every time you close your eyes." 

Another jab. There’s blood running down Megan’s hand from her skin pressing into the blade, down into the sleeve of her sweater, but she doesn’t care. 

She throws the blade down at Anna’s feet, not breaking eye contact with Anna. “I never want to see your face again. Even if that means me leaving Hailgrove, I never want to see your face again. If I do see you, it had better be me seeing you right before you kill me, because unless you’ve been assigned to hunt me for another one of your assignments, you won’t come near me for the rest of your natural life. Do you understand?”

[annanovotny]

She listens to every word single Megan says, every single word ringing in her head like a drum. Megan picks up the knife, and Anna braces herself. She thinks of death, and how welcoming it would be, how eager she is to trade her earthly hell for the arcane oblivion awaiting her. She hopes God is a liar and death is nothing, sweet nothing. But instead of a blade to the heart, there is a jab to her gut, and a phantom punch to her stomach as she sees the blade pressed into Megan's palm. 

Anna wants to fall back on instinct, to grab the knife from Megan and stop the bleeding, but she knows better. She remains still, a passive statue. Megan's last words sting as if they were blades of their own, and of course Anna wouldn't die, not today. She shouldn't be allowed oblivion, not when there is so much to still be punished for. Megan's words alone, she thinks, are punishment enough. If words were knives, Anna surely would be bled dry by now.

"I will never kill you." Her voice is steady, a fallback on meticulously rehearsed training. Breaking down never solves anything. She must remain strong, she must be unbreakable. "Your life is worth far more than mine." She pauses to prevent the waver threatening to break her voice. She must remain strong. She must be unbreakable. "But I understand. You will never see me again." The words "I'm sorry" linger on her lips, but Anna isn't exactly sure what she is sorry for. Julian's death? Attacking Emma? For Megan's pain? Keeping her identity a secret? For existing? She holds it all back. She must remain strong. She must be unbreakable. 

Even though she has another class in forty minutes, Anna swiftly collects her items from the podium and walks past Megan, out the door. (She holds back her tears. She must remain strong. She must remain unbreakable.) Her third mistake was the one she made from the very beginning: daring to think that she was worthy of having someone care for her. It was a lesson she should have learned after her mother's murder, after her last confrontation with Sam... but she learned it now. Misery loves company, but in hell, there is no room for company when you are burning.

[meganfrasier-blog]

Afraid of Everyone || Anna & Megan

[meganfrasier-blog]

She’s not really listening to anything Anna is saying. “STOP IT!” she yells, slamming her hand down on the podium, right between where Anna’s hands are placed. “Stop lying, just stop!”

Anna was one of them—this whole time, she was one of them. All this talk about her “superiors,” being ordered to do things for them—Anna was a hunter, Anna had probably intentionally befriended Megan in order to do this, Anna was at fault for all of it, and she was admitting all of it to Megan, here and now.

"That anyone else was my best friend, Julian Ballard,” she says, her voice starting to even out (but not really). “Remember that name, Anna. Julian Ballard. He was twenty-three years old. He had a girlfriend that he was probably going to marry and have kids with. And you,” she snarled, jabbing a finger in Anna’s direction, “You are responsible for it. I don’t care what your intentions were—you can lie to me about how you were trying to protect me to your heart’s content—but he is still dead, and you still tried to kill Emma.”

Her voice breaks fully when she says Emma’s name, and Megan suddenly feels all the anger dissipate as she breaks down into tears again. Her rigid pose breaks, and her shoulders slump as all of her anger completely transitions into heartbreak. “Why, Anna?” she says, her voice hoarse. “It doesn’t matter that I knew Emma—you still attacked an innocent girl and left her for dead. How could you do this?”

[annanovotny]

Anna can't help but flinch as Megan's hand comes down on the podium, finally feeling her lungs work again as she gasps and closes her eyes. Her hand shakily grips the podium and she forces herself to meet Megan's eyes once more.

She doesn't want to hear anything about Julian, about some stupid kid who somehow got involved in something he shouldn't and ended giving Megan more heartbreak. She doesn't want to hear that it's her fault, because she's already berating herself for this and the voice adding to her accusations being Megan only drives the nail further in the coffin. She doesn't want to hear any of it. but she forces herself to. She deserved no mercy, if anything, Megan could drive a knife through her heart and Anna wouldn't object at all. (Death would be too quick a punishment. She deserved to suffer.)

"I had no choice!" She struggles not to yell, but the pain inside of her is becoming overwhelming and it won't stop, nothing she can do can make it stop. "I cannot defy them. From the day I was born, I was subjected to their life, and they made sure I always knew that my obedience was unquestioning. And it didn't matter at first, all of this, because I had no attachments. I killed far more people than you could ever possibly imagine, and I felt nothing.

"And then I met you." She's not crying, she's not crying, she's not crying. (She's crying. She hates herself for it.) "I let myself care for you, and I didn't even know you were powered, not for awhile. And even once I knew, I didn't cut you out of my life. I knew better, but I thought... I thought things would be different. That was my first mistake. But the next thing I know, they are telling me to kill you. I fought them, I argued, I did everything I could to convince them otherwise. That was my second mistake. It let them know that I cared for you. So they made me target someone else instead."

Anna takes a shaking breath, and then another. She's no longer looking at Megan, but it doesn't matter, because she wouldn't even be able to see her through her tears. She's still crying, and the voices in her head are yelling, reminding her again and again that she is weak and she is a failure and she is sin and she is nothing

"But that was not a mistake. Because, Megan, the truth is that I would kill a lot more people if it meant you would be safe. You have every right to hate me, in fact, you could even kill me in exchange for the life of the friend you have lost. I would not oppose to those or anything else in between. But that would not change my mind. If given the chance again, I would do the exact same thing. I would do the exact same thing a thousand times over, if the result meant you would be safe."

Slowly, Anna removes a knife she keeps hidden in her jacket pocket, placing it on the podium. She then steps back from the podium, leaving her arms dangling at her side. "Do what you will. I will not fight you."

[meganfrasier-blog]

Afraid of Everyone || Anna & Megan

[meganfrasier-blog]

Megan stands there, waiting to hear the doors shut and for the shuffling in the room to disappear, to move out into the hallways. Her ears are still ringing, her heart is still pounding like it’s trying to punch a hole through her chest to escape, she’s shaking and there are still hot tears streaming down her face—she is past the point of calming down.

DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE 

She moves around the podium to stand next to Anna—it’s a barrier between them, a safety object that Anna doesn’t deserve to have. She clenches her fists.

JULIAN IS DEAD DON’T YOU DARE PRETEND LIKE YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT IS GOING ON

"My best friend is dead," she says, her voice breaking again as she steps closer to Anna. "And something happened to my girlfriend. Emma Clearwater. She’s now unconscious in my room. Explain to me how that happened, Anna. Explain why she said you were responsible for it before she collapsed in my arms. Explain how you’re connected to the fact that I found the dead body of a man who has been my best friend since high school in one of your coworker’s offices. And don’t lie to me,” she says through her teeth. “Don’t you fucking lie to me again.”

[annanovotny]

The moment Emma's name leaves Megan's lips, all breath leaves Anna's lungs. She knew, of course, that Megan's girlfriend was named Emma, but she had never put two and two together... but of course. It made sense. They would send her after the girlfriend of the person she was trying to protect. She should have known. Idiot. Failure. 

Her hands grip the sides of the podium, her knuckles turning white. Megan's words cut her deeper than she ever would have expected them to. "Don't you fucking lie to me again." Everything she had done, it had been to protect Megan. And in her deceit, she had only hurt Megan even worse. 

She sighs, looking down for the briefest of moments to compose herself before looking back up at Megan. "What you must understand, out of all of this, is that I do not have a choice. And everything I did, I did for you."

She doesn't see the point of offering much backstory. Megan didn't have the patience, not now. "When it came down to it, it was either your life, or the life of Emma. My superiors offered me no other choice, no means of escape. And I chose you. I did not know that you knew Emma, and I do not know anything about anyone else being involved in this, let alone dying. All I know is that I left Emma bleeding out on an office floor, and I reported back to my superiors. And when I did, they assured me that your life was safe. That was all I cared about. That you were safe."

[meganfrasier-blog]

Afraid of Everyone || Anna & Megan

Megan stumbles through the corridors to get to Anna’s lecture hall.

Julian is dead. Emma almost died. Anna tried to kill Emma. Julian is dead because he tried to save Emma. Anna is responsible for all of it.

There are tears streaming down her face. Her throat is raw from shouting and screaming. She’s shaking and choking down sobs.

Julian is dead. Emma almost died. Anna tried to kill Emma. Julian is dead because he tried to save Emma. Anna is responsible for all of it.

She turns the corner. Runs into one of the frat boys she met at a party. He tries to chat with her, but she blindly pushes past him.

Julian is dead. Emma almost died. Anna tried to kill Emma. Julian is dead because he tried to save Emma. Anna is responsible for all of it.

She is almost certain that she looks like she belongs in a mental ward, but she doesn’t bother stopping to calm herself down. There’s a loud ringing noise in her ears. A black haze clouding her vision. She isn’t sure whether the loud pounding noise she’s hearing is an 808 drum playing nearby or if it’s her heart. Either way, it’s a very present noise. Loud thudding noises go through her brain and her entire body as the same thoughts run through her mind, over and over and over and over again.

Julian is dead. Emma almost died. Anna tried to kill Emma. Julian is dead because he tried to save Emma. Anna is responsible for all of it. I trusted Anna with my life. It was Anna. It was all Anna. She knew the whole time, she knew the whole time and she didn’t say anything, she let me stand there and tell her I trusted her, I trusted her I trusted her I trusted her

Megan doesn’t care if she looks like a maniac. She slams the door to Anna Novotny’s lecture hall open. The students inside all whirl around to stare. Megan can’t bring herself to care about anything except for the woman standing in front of the lecture hall.

The same lecture hall Megan was in when Anna was wearing a The National t-shirt. The same one where Megan approached Anna, hoping to make a friend out of a professor she had looked up to for so long. 

Julian is dead. Emma almost died. Anna tried to kill Emma. Julian is dead because he tried to save Emma. Anna is responsible for all of it.

She walks down towards Anna. She stands there. She knows that Anna knows. Anna always knows. 

"It was you," she says. She wants to sound strong, she wants to sound certain and strong and forceful, but her voice comes out hoarse and broken instead. "This whole time, it was you.”

[annanovotny]

Anna is deep into a lecture on the evolution of Latin throughout the early centuries when the door to her lecture hall bursts open. She stops mid-sentence, and quite a few students who have already turned to look at the intruder turn their attention back to translating the rapid Latin Anna occasionally throws into her lectures to make sure she still has the class's undivided attention. Anna's attention, however, is still on the new face. 

Her first reaction is a burst of relief - she had spent the entire day shut down, refusing to think of the previous night, and as she had earlier suspected, Megan's presence would make her feel better. Except, that feeling only lasts the briefest of moments. Megan is a complete mess, from her disheveled hair, to tear-stained face, to the blood on her shirt. Anna's heart skips a beat and her thoughts flash to "They went after her they attacked her they went back on their word they tried to hurt her", but then Megan is approaching her and accusations fly from her lips.

Anna feels the blood drain from her face. She hears herself dismissing her class, assigning homework she knows they now have no interest in even starting, but her attention is entirely on Megan. The room quickly clears - her students know her enough to not linger - and Anna closes the book on her podium. 

"Specifics, Megan, please." She doesn't know what Megan knows, what would send Megan into such a fit, but she has a sinking feeling it most definitely involves her other line of work. How Megan found out, and why it caused her so much distress, Anna had no clue. "Now, take a deep breath, and start over."

[antoniakerr]

ships with holes // ant & anna

[antoniakerr]

"It’s not like I went out looking to get attacked, you know,” Ant mumbles. She struggles to focus, distracted by the dull throbbing in her shoulders. The painkillers are starting to wear off, and all Ant can think about is how she wants nothing more than to be at home, her in bed. Where no one can bother me.

Maybe I don’t give a shit about living, she thinks, briefly looking across at Anna. Has she been feeling more like her usual, petulant self, Ant would have been tempted to say that out loud, just to get a rise out of Anna. Instead, as she listens to Novotny’s stern but apparently calm tirade. Ant knows it’s all bullshit. She can sense the rage bubbling up under than exterior.

"Actually, fuck this," Ant starts, slowly pushing herself up from the chair. I don’t need to listen to this. I don’t … I want to drink, and smoke, and not be around you. “If you’re just going to berate me and tell me I’m a piece of shit, you can save it. If you want to be constructive and actually discipline me, then great. Otherwise, I’m going home.” She shuffles across towards the door, not bothering to turn back to look at Anna. What a fucking shitshow.

[annanovotny]

A low growl almost escapes Anna's throat as Ant gets up to leave. No, that was not how this worked. Ant did not get to decide when this meeting ended. Ant did not get to decide how Anna handled the discipline of her own subordinates. In fact, she has had quite enough of Ant entirely. 

In a flash, she's risen from her chair and behind Ant. Ignoring the visible bruises on Ant, Anna grabs her by the shoulder and slams her into the wall. "I did not dismiss you, Antonia." She doesn't let go of her grip on Ant, even tightening it, though it wasn't like she needed much effort to keep this weakened Ant in place. 

"You listen to me, and you listen to me very carefully." Anna closes the cap between them, effectively cornering Ant. Good, she had Ant's attention again. "You take this pathetic excuse of an attitude and shove it somewhere where it will cease to further antagonize every situation you find yourself in. So, life is tough. You cannot stop fucking up. You know what? Tough shit. The world does not revolve around you. You are a defective cog in a machine that cannot afford to cease productivity."

She doesn't want to lose Ant's attention, so she grips her shoulder even tighter and leans in further. Anna is acutely aware of every pore on Ant's face, the bags under her eyes, and the lifelessness in her eyes. She is absolutely disgusted. 

"If I ever have to call you into this office ever again for anything other than an assignment, then you can consider yourself as good as dead."

She releases her grip on Ant, pushing back on her with disgust. "Get out of my sight. I want nothing more to do with you."