Warrior Queen

Joey hasn’t felt real loss before. He’d even been to countless funerals for people he didn’t know or remember and even then, the feeling was never there. And as he watches the deterioration of her, the realization that she can’t stomach everything that she’s worked so damned hard for only to have it reset, terror lurks in the corners of his mind as to what’ll happen when he experiences something like that. Instantly, he follows her to the ground and pulls her into him. “I can’t tell you that what you’re feeling will go away. In fact, I can’t even begin to understand how you feel right now, but I can tell you that it’ll get better. You’re even smarter now than you were before, you know what to do and what not to do. So many things have changed for the good. It may not be the same, but it’ll be better. You’re strong and you’re powerful and you have me now. You deserve to have what you always wanted, Catherine. You always have.” He leans down to kiss the crown of her head. “You can make it happen. We can make it happen.”

Falling into his embrace felt peculiar. After all, Catherine spent the past two to three years loathing Joseph Arden and everything he stood for. But in an instant, history changed itself. Suddenly, he was one of them -- if there was such a thing as being one of them. And suddenly she felt as young now as she did before. With a blight smile, she ushers herself into his frame and breathes in his scent. It was a whiplash of maturity that she knew he was very well capable of, but still unlikely. "Since when did you get so smart?" Catherine questions derisively, before plucking her head from his chest with now dried tears. "It's odd, the way I feel around you." Catherine admits. "Like I'm both angry and infatuated at the same time." It was a mixture of emotions ranging from anguish to attraction. It was the aftermath effect of the time jump, she supposed. It felt her with all the emotions of the past, especially towards him. "There was a time when the biggest issue I had with you was never knowing how deeply -- if I did, that is -- feel for you... Now? It's trying to forgive you for what you haven't done."

A feeling that Joey can only describe as atoning for his sins wells up in his chest and at the same time, he feels release. It’s like the weight that has made him crankier since his nightmares started has been lifted. For the first time in a long time he has a hope that what he’ll see when he closes his eyes won’t make him shudder. “Thanks for pissing me off enough to figure it out.” He replies, a small smile pulling he corners of his mouth upwards. “I know I’m a big deal, but you didn’t just come back in time to change us, something big must’ve happened…”

It didn't take long for all her reservations to crumble. It seemed that her days were spent wallowing in her loss; loss of her progression, her mistakes, her redemption, her hope... No one understood, because everyone who was in on the entire thing knew what they were getting into. But not her, never her -- she had no stake in her future. Now here she was, a woman stuck in time. It felt too difficult for her to handle with a straight face. Her face drops and she feels her stomach churning. "I didn't come back in time." Catherine enunciates shallowly, approaching him with an expression unknown to herself or anyone else -- loss. "I didn't choose to relive and recreate my past. I was content, Joey. I survived it all; the blood on my hands, the countless lies, my selfish impulses. I found my way to a life I wanted to have forever; a normal, human life -- the kind we would have envied and laughed before everything changed." Catherine explains with a sense of speed, as if she would blink out of existence at any moment. "It wasn't perfect, but it was mine -- and now it's all gone. Now I don't know who I am. I feel every bit as old as I do young, every bit wise as I do foolish." Slowly slumping downwards onto the ground, she buries her face in her hands. "I just wanted... What we always wanted. And I had it and now it's gone..."

"Pfft. If I was going to jump off of a building, it sure wouldn’t be this one. I’ll be damned before I die on these grounds." It doesn’t take as long as one would think for Joey to respond as he’s been thinking about it since the ball, but still there is a pause. "Because I saw it. I saw myself as the killer you told me I would become and that’s…" He swallows. "That’s terrifying." He doesn’t bother turning around, keeps his vision straight. "And it’s not just about me, about the way I feel or the what I turn into, it’s about the fact that sometime in the future, I hurt you. I heard the resentment in your voice at the ball, and I’d been so confused." Joey mirthlessly laughs at his previous obliviousness. "At first, when I had no idea it was me that caused it, I told myself that I’d never make you feel that way and when you told me that I…" There’s another pause as he tries to keep himself together up on this roof, but he turns around to meet her eyes anyway. "No way am I going to accept hurting you as my future. I’m going to do everything in my power to change it."

His words are hauntingly real, forcing more questions than answers -- would she have done anything differently had she known what she would become? Surely, she achieved redemption for her sins, but if she knew of those life-changing moments ahead of time, would anything be different? Would she have fought harder for her freedom? For their rights? For Charlie? For Zachariah? Or even fro Joey? And if she knew it would all go away, that a second chance beckoned, would she pick differently? Yet here Joey was, redefining his entire existence without much thought. It was sad to think his life was so empty that surrendering it for the unknown was a better alternative. But she couldn't hold him to his mistakes, especially now that he chose differently. "I--Thank you." Catherine admits thankfully, a somber expression occupying her face. "Thank you for choosing better."

The cold isn’t anything particularly new to him, the weather back home was just like this around this time. That didn’t mean he liked it any less. But right now, on the roof of the asylum where it was just him and his thoughts, the chilly breeze was the least of his problems. His days after the ball had been nothing but judgy eyes from everyone who crossed his path and Catherine weighing heavy on his heart. She was part human, that information should have prompted him to kill her, or at the very least turn her in, but nothing. He’d done nothing. And he doesn’t regret it.

What does that mean for him? "Skatá." He curses out loud.

Joseph doesn’t move at the sound of the door opening, he simply keeps staring out at the expanse of land as he speaks. “Can I help you? Which, in case you didn’t know, translates to: ‘The fuck are you doing up here?”

Given the tumultuous and uneasy circumstances within St. Mary's, it was easy for Catherine to rid her thoughts of the Joseph Arden debacle. With Orion's suspicions and growing restlessness, an uprising was on its way, she could feel it. But in the midst of planning her life after the war; a life filled with books and a family of her own, she felt herself drawn back to the very unresolved situation that came over her. Taking only a moment to get used to the chilly breeze, Catherine wraps her jacket over herself and hollers from the doors. "Making sure you don't jump?" With a sigh, she doesn't bother skirting around the questions that were lingering in her head. "Why didn't you kill me?"

"That’s because we are superior to everyone around us!” He barks; now they’ve definitely garnered an audience. "There are people out there who’ve been killed by humans for their abilities, there are people who have been tortured and socially ridiculed. There are people who have had the privilege of a nurturing, supportive family relentlessly ripped from their grasp all because their power was more important than who they were as a fucking person and that sucks.” That last word is punctuated by the same event that happened in the past—as people who do not remember their history are condemned to repeat it. With the sound of a rushing nose filling the room, the dessert table nearest the door detonates under the influence of Joey’s power, sending pieces of wood, glass and pastry everywhere. He doesn’t even care. He’s breathing heavy now, running his hands through his hair, no regard for the style he put so much work into earlier. “It wasn’t just given to us—we trained rough and we studied hard and we took the verbal and physical abuse that came from being different—some of us were even ignored, or shunned, or abused by our own families. We earned our spot as superiors and that’s what I stand for, Catherine!”

Finally, he takes a look at the damage he’s done and sighs, voice lowering. She isn’t making any sense, he doesn’t get it. "You keep talking like you have seen the future. You keep talking like… like one day I’m going to become somebody that I can’t even see myself recognizing, some blood thirsty killer who breaks your heart. If I care about you as much as you say," Which he does; she has him figured out, but he doesn’t plan on admitting it out loud. "Then it’s not going to happen. So why do you keep talking like it will?"

#c: joseph #ooc: ooh here we go!!!

There was often such strong debates about the merits and pitfalls of their existence, dating back to centuries of ridicule and abuse. But after the world she had seen and the paths she had walked, the notion of superiority was what ultimately made them unhappy. "And what about us? Are we so innocent? Haven't we ridiculed and abused and murdered out of cold blood? There is a difference between bringing down those who try to kill us and being predators!" Voice ringing throughout the ballroom, Catherine can feel her nails growing in great speed and texture. She can feel her heart pulsating against her chest; partly in admitted fear but more so in utter conviction. She was deadly afraid of what he would do or what Orion Hearst would think when he catches such a display of defiance from one of his beloved legacies -- but she did it anyway. Whether or not it was brave or stupid was up for debate.

A vehement sneer appearing across her face, her dark red eyes catch those of the curious onlookers. "Get the fuck out of here!" Catherine hollers aggressively, shooting a deadly glare at each bystander until they dwindled back into the center of the ballroom. Eyes finally fixating back on Joey's, she manages to relax her temper enough to keep her tone at bay. "Because I am human." The words came effortlessly, unlike the incident long ago. "I, your friend, the girl you have slept with multiple times... I am human. My mother was human, I'm human -- and I love it." Her words are spilling with pride and fear in equal measure. "I love humans; their simplicity, their complexity, their fears. I love being human every bit as I love being a carrier." With an expectant stare, she nods. "What about now?"

At first the feeling in the pit of his stomach is ignored. Usually, they’d dissolve into playful banter or something of the sort, now it just seems like he’s crossed a line that he didn’t even know was there. He pointedly skips over arguing about his ego and compliments—there’s a reason why she’s snapping at him like this, and he wants to get to the root of it. But he can’t help but get defensive in the process. “Since when do you not enjoy stuff like this, Catherine?” The volume of his voice begins to rise. “What caused the sudden change of heart?” Joseph’s gaze shifts to her balled fists momentarily, he meets her eyes and takes another deep breath in an attempt to reign in his own temper. His is known to flare up just as bad as hers. “So tell me what the hell is going on here, because quite frankly, there’s something I don’t fucking know.”

#c: joseph #ooc: impending violence here we come I feel!

It almost didn't matter what he had done in such an alternative universe, but what he would do when faced with the very same predicament again. Maybe it was what she was searching for with Joey; to alter the events that transpired between them, particularly the events that broke her heart. She wouldn't grovel for her life, she would fight for it. She would stand tall and proclaim exactly what she was, what she stood for, and all the ways she was different -- and if he was the Joseph Arden she knew he was, he would scoff at her, belittle her... But it didn't matter so much to her what he would do, but rather her reaction to it. "My senses." Catherine returns aptly, perhaps even darkly. "This asylum feeds us lies and encourages us to think we are superior to those around us. Especially you and I. It turned us into ruthless killers, killers who enjoy every second of pain they derive from humans..." With a shake of her head, a gruff sigh escapes her lips. A brief pause before her eyes pass over him with radiating prejudgment. "You care about me more than you would ever admit. From the very second you arrived in St. Mary's, we've been the closest of friends, you and I. Even without the sex or the playful banter or even --" with a sour laugh, she adds; "... Even the hints of romance, you care about me. And yet I bet you're contemplating how many seconds it will take to kill me for turning my back on Hearst, on my legacy, on what you stand for."

aseaofquotes

Andrew Smith, Winger

#ooc; this blog just posted tbis and its perfection #c: quotes

If she meant for him to hear her, she gets her wish. “You of all people know that I don’t need fish for compliments. They come automatically whenever I walk into a room. I just take the fake, half-hearted ones and tell you what you did wrong so you can improve them next time.” If there wasn’t something weird in the pit of his stomach before, there is now. He exhales loudly through his nose. “What? Do you not feel like enjoying the festivities?”

#c: joseph #ooc: precisely! haha this'll get bad

"Right." Catherine snaps with a derisive scoff. "Like improving in the way I fan your ego is the top of my priorities along with organizing my sock collection." It was that temper, that classic Catherine Crowe temper, that made the temptation to claw his sweet little eyes out horribly unbearable. Clutching her fist tightly, she can feel her fingernails digging into the palm of her hand. Looking at him, the very representation of who she was -- should -- be, forced her hand. Is this what she wanted? Dwindling back into a vicious, elitist sociopath? Not everything about it was necessarily wrong. It was a means of survival. But did she want to survive, or did she want to die fulfilled? "I don't --" Scoffing, the brunette shakes her head. "No, I don't. I don't enjoy these things anymore." Gesturing about the room at the elaborate display of wealth as a celebration of ruthlessness, she huffs. "I don't relish in celebrating this entire construct that attempts to justify our ruthlessness." It was the first slew of history defying actions she had ever done, one that could severely alter what is and what isn't. "I don't enjoy what you stand for."

I’m actually very aware of your lurking tendencies.” He responds, he’d seen the cat on the ledge and had a hunch that it was her, and swooping down in a way that only Catherine Crowe could do proved him right. “You look like you’d rather push out a baby than that salty compliment. Telling me I look good should be effortless, because its so obvious. I’m not accepting that unless you say it with some feeling.” There’s concern in his eyes that only she can find. “Is everything okay?”

#ooc: who doesn't love underlying resentment haha #c: joseph

Half-heartedly grinning through the bubbling resentment building within her, she shrugs nonchalantly. "Fishing for compliments? Really? The desperation in your voice is astounding." Catherine mutters hoarsely under her breathe, but she was aware that he could hear her. Perhaps she wanted him to. Surely, maintaining their camaraderie was pivotal in keeping her cover. After all, back in the good ole times of St. Mary's, what was the queen without her lovely boy toy? But if he knew what she knew, that she was human and proud of it, he would kill her within minutes. And that hurt more than she could admit. "I think I should go."

"Hm, I was wondering if you were listening… or should I say eavesdropping?" Joey sticks a hand into his pocket and grins, side-eyeing her as he finishes his glass. "Look at you phasing on the fly. Pretty impressive."

#c: joseph #ooc: wow I missed them

"Don't you know I'm always lurking around the corner?" Catherine teases lightly, circa 2012 Catherine Crowe with her audacity and arrogance flaring. But she still felt the sting enduring in her chest, even after a good two years of turbulence that should have drowned it. But it did nothing more than highlight the paradox of her situation; she was a woman out of time, angry at the sins the young boy had yet to commit. "You look..." A quiet frustrated sigh escapes her. "You look perfect." Comes the sour response.

Perched upon a metal ledge, the shapeshifted Catherine Crowe smirks slyly as she observes the projects going about their business. Some conversations were intriguing, others rather tiresome, and some just downright odd. But the shapeshifted black and white cat raises its head as a particular conversation captures her attention. With a light purr, Catherine interrupts the person halfway through their little monologue and swoops down from the ledge, quickly transforming back into herself. "Interesting, do tell me more?"

#continuum:starter

arianna-carrington-blog

With the days that passed, Anna hadn’t brought herself to sleep because of the potential massacre that could happen to her best friend. Still, she knew that allowing herself a few minutes of rest was definitely needed because she started to feel herself heat up — the downfalls of being somewhat computerized. After a few minutes of being on ‘sleep mode’, she was woken by someone on the couch shuffling and turning the volume up on one of the television sets that was showing mayhem breaking out on the streets of Herefordshire. “Charlie,” she whispered to herself as her eyes moved towards the screen with the Play on. She noticed the pixilation of the world start to flicker into a place she wasn’t familiar with - with a few flicks of her wrist she Googled the image and immediately pulled herself from the couch. New Orleans, Louisiana. ”Oh… Oh, no. No. Not good.” Shaking her head furiously, she starts to sprint outside of the common room, hoping to find Charlie’s roommate… or someone who would be able to help. “Catherine Crowe.” Sure, she was intimidated by the girls but the two of them were so close that Catherine had to know about the future… about what Charlie told her the other day. “Catherine!” Running towards her, she grabs her arms and starts pulling her towards the hallway. “There’s something… there’s something wrong. The virtual reality — it shouldn’t flicker like that. Something’s wrong. We need to fix it. Charlie— he’s in there.”

A raised eyebrow appears on her face at the pathetic amount of strength Arianna exerted, even in the state of what she assumed was haste, but allows herself to be dragged into the hallway. Despite the utter chaos and the potential unraveling of the time space continuum, Catherine somehow held a sense of calm. Maybe it was something she had learned from her year of partnership with Zachariah, the art of maintaining composure even in the most hectic of situations. "Nice little grip, princess. Any lighter and I'd assume it was a gust of air." Catherine responds with a taunting smirk, well aware of the level of intimidation she held over the little cyberheaded girl. Good. It was necessary to keep her at bay where she and her cousin were concerned. "Relax..." Catherine responds after her string of words, a lax expression on her face. "We got this. I have a plan." She boasts, before adding off-handedly. "Well, part of a plan -- mostly break things." Shrugging her shoulders, she beams at her and turns her head, perfecting Orion's face within a millisecond. "Although I figure this covers a good twenty percent of the plan." Catherine utters in Orion's voice before winking in her direction.

#ch: arianna

"A potential carrier massacre is brewing and everyone's more concerned with Project Play?" Catherine Crowe hisses loudly through the halls, donning the standardized and mechanized St. Mary's battle uniform, equipped with everything the latest in Crowe Corporation innovations can give her. "Uh..." A lowly first year attempts to point out, pointing to the screen. "What?" Whipping her head around, her dark eyes widen as the reality begins to mimic that of -- New Orleans? The figures, the people... No, it couldn't be. "F-Fuck..." Pushing the first year aside, she begins to set out for someone -- anyone willing to help her do the improbable for the sake of. Well. For the sake of the continuum of time itself.

#continuum:starter

wallflowerkeith

"Get a room."

[ Amanda watched the couple with a disgusted look on her face. They were literally groping each other in the middle of the cafeteria. Pushing her food away, she had lost every ounce of her appetite. ] “That has to hurt her boob…”

Would you like me to grope you like that?

#ch: aj

he-is-a-maneater-blog

“You, are gorgeous.”

he-is-a-maneater-blog

His eyes shot up at the familiar voice. Seeing Catherine Crowe once again caused him roll his eyes dramatically. He even placed his spoon full of sundae down as if he had just lost his appetite thanks to having seen her. “And the bitch returns just when I started to accept the fact that maybe you died in an alley — next to a brothel.” Grayson remarked. Picking up his spoon again, he prodded his sundae a few times, “What do you want?” He asked before placing the spoon in his mouth.