@drkholmes
Her time in the dark was short this round. The time that passed between dying and being brought back to life couldn’t necessarily be called ‘waiting’— but after gaining consciousness again, it certainly felt like waiting. It was empty and endless and Irene was learning that it had a tendency to hit some sort of reset button in her brain.
She had her powers. Unlike last time, everything seemed to be working just as it should be. But there was practice and discipline that was now lost. It took effort to sort through the multiple paths of time, otherwise it was a tangled mess. Certain things were always going to be hazy, but now it all twisted together. It came in flashes, out of order, hard to discern. She was not in the mood to relearn, to teach herself yet again, but she had no choice.
But she wasn’t alone. And for that, she was grateful. Raven had already proved, more than once, that there was practically nothing she wouldn’t do for her. Irene loved her determination, her ruthlessness. The two of them were a force to be reckoned with, but they were also people. They deserved to rest, to just.. be.
Irene had been resting, flat on her back in their bed with her eyes closed. The closest thing to describe what she was feeling was a migraine, but it was more than that. Instead of light and sound it was the images inside her mind that caused the pressure. Sleep was good, but she needed to be awake to start straightening out the timelines and putting pieces back where they belonged. It was frustrating.
Suddenly she sat up with a heavy sigh. Pale eyes blinked down at the floor as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and pressed her feet flat to the floor. It grounded her a bit. She stayed sitting, torn between wanting to pace and feeling frozen. Was she hungry? Thirsty? Tired? She couldn’t tell. Raven was in the room but Irene stayed silent.