#godunlap

[projodessa]

@godunlap sent: " look, i'm sorry, okay ? "

she's  standing  in  some  post-apocalyptic  daycare,  burnt  orange  shitty  threads  in  her  fist,  mouth  souring  around  a  five  letter  word.  it  puckers,  wholly  displeased  and  she  sighs,  the  noise  pulled  from  her  diaphragm  ─  a  low  wearisome  resonance.  they  weren't  friends,  barely  acquaintances  even,  and  still  an  ache  lances  through  her  chest  that  feels  keenly  like  regret.  tongue  poking  cheek  she  turns,  shoulder  bumping  into  a  book  case,  swallowing  down  the  nauseating  bile  of  the  day's  events.  less  than  24  hours  passed  and  life  was  different,  it  felt  different,  it  tasted  different  ─  and  she  isn't  sure  there's  room  for  an  apology  tour.

❝     letting  you  rot  in  elmira  wasn't  a  fucking  option,  cate.     ❞

'cause  that  place  was  made  for  gutting,  for  cutting  you  down  to  the  studs.  it's  an  experiment  in  humiliation  ─  in  what  anyone  will  do  just  to  survive.  she  gapes  around  those  memories,  sucking  in  stale  dusty  air  and  nods,  thankful  for  the  untouched  solidarity  of  her  own  mind.  arms  cross  beneath  breasts,  posture  lax  and  face  smooth  of  any  discernible  emotion.  she  needs  this  conversation  over  quick.

❝     i  don't  want  an  apology  for  doing  the  right  thing.     ❞

[thinkbrink]

⤷ @godunlap : you never listen.

jesus fucking christ. there's a rifled sigh that leaves their lips, a blown-out, dramatized huff that ends with hands falling limp to sides and a characteristic eye roll, those of which cate has stood at the receiving end of plenty of times over the course of these past three years. except, now, where they stood, none of this could be passed off as juvenile conflict — hardly the drama born of sticking a few thousand something-teens in one concentrated campus hell-bent on competition and strife. no, this was real life; real shit, with real lives at stake, none of the superficiality of days past to be seen. well, maybe a bit. jordan never considered themselves above pettiness. it was fun sometimes, most of the time, sue them !

" i never listen ? i ? me ? " their head sticks out, body bent, as if snaking around to meet cate's gaze for emphasis. " if you want me to listen so fuckin' badly, you know what to do, cate. make me another god damn puppet, make me listen. you seemed eager enough to do it last-fuckin'-year before marie blew your fuckin' arm off. " they were supposed to be a team, navigating the landscape of cipher's mini mansion to scope out any intel for the greater good, or whatever. and yet, a clear fork in the road, one that pivoted towards an inevitable surfacing of repressed rage, grief, both equally searing their throat until the upchuck of vitriol. there was no marie, nor emma to mediate, a third party that'd force jordan into keeping their mouth shut to maintain focus. " so, don't tell me shit about not listening, cate. "

[darkhulme]

She wasn't Rogue. She'd never be Rogue. Raven missed her daughter. The one who she raised. Maybe even loved in her own twisted way. That is what made this all the more complicated. Finding a replacement for child they lost. Grieving someone who was still alive was not for the weak. Mystique would never admit to that. It felt as though it were a weakness. She was anything but that. It showed a side of humanity that they dreaded. Despised. Motherhood was both the best and worst thing the Blue Devil had ever experienced; although, she would do it again in a heartbeat.

" They deserved it. " Killing humans who despised mutants. The people who viewed them as scums of the earth. Ironic for a species inferior to those who possess the X-Gene. " Do not regret it. " She speaks bluntly with little emotions. Standard for Mystique, especially in moments like this. Disappointed in the fact that Cate even hinted in remorse. " That shows weakness. "

@godunlap , i didn't mean it.