I'm Nuts! Baby I'm Mad

Teresa Mara Martinez | Necromancer | Traitor to the Rebels |

[teresathenecromancer]

Finally. After more than a few hours spent aimlessly picking at dead and alive bodies around the Garden, Vanessa boarded the truck heading to the Hive, to join her niece in the scheme Cosima assigned them to. She lingered in the back, her arms folded over her chest as she squinted her eyes, assessing the damage to the corpses – she noticed Teressa doing the same and a wave of pride washed over her aunt. They shared more than power, it appears. Teressa noticed her aunt was observing her and called out for her, which made Vanessa step from the shadows into the dim light.

Nodding at her words, she inched her niece. “Of course. Which one you want to go over, first?”

Tess flashed her aunt a grateful smile. Ever since she rediscovered her favourite family member, she was pleased whenever she’d bump into her. It was no surprise that Vanessa would be here, helping her. “This one is a little tricky.” She motioned towards a body of a young woman, her spine twisted in the unnatural manner. “The cord is too shattered. It’ll take a lot more than mere energy to repair this poor thing.”

[teresathenecromancer]

There’s almost a panic like reaction when the clone hears Tess calls for him, just for one brief second before he’s moving along every other working person there. Maybe if he helped - and complain little to nothing - the clone would be able to pass unnoticed and get back to the city without any further issues. “ Where should we start? ” He questions, head dipped just a bit to hide from the other’s view. Unsure if she remember him - his original from their time working together back in the Garden, decades ago.

---

Teresa had paused for a moment, the voice ringing in her ears, pulling an almost painful memory to life. Malacai. Or, well, his clone. She remembered when the news of his death reached her, she remembered the effect it had on everyone around, and the sob story which happened to his wife and child. She was, for a while, enraged with Cosima for not showing at least a smidgen of mercy, but she remained silent.

She remained silent now, as well. “Start with that... uh, pile, over there.” She motioned to the right of where they stood. “I need help loading them to the cart.”

[teresathenecromancer]

The trek to the Hive had been rough. Clones were everywhere. Searching. Defending. Enforcing. She knew their ways. She’d been one of them once. She’d been seen in the City. She grabbed a bag from her apartment, ready to run anyway but someone saw her. Civilians were searching, looking for rebels and they found her instead. Most of them ran off, searching for someone to tell, an authority to send her way. A couple stayed. She ignored their yelling, watching their movements, assessing how they will act next. She was ready when they attacked, careful when she fought back. She didn’t want to hurt them, just subdue them.

She’d fled after that, hide in the crazy of the Hive for a bit, help where she can, maybe guide a few away from the Garden and certain death. Her head lifted as someone called to her, asking for help. A good sign, she hoped. “Uh yeah, where are we moving them?”

“That cart over there.” Teresa pointed towards a rusty, sad looking iron thing right to where the two of them stood. She’d by lying to say she didn’t recognise Amara, but did she really care about it? No. Will she run along to tell Cosima about it? Also no. The hag can boil for a while, and besides, Tess was here solely for the purpose of finding Callie, who was nowhere to be found.

“You can help me load it, and while I take them to the truck, you can load the other.”

[teresathenecromancer]

On the scale of ridiculously foolish activities to engage in the direct aftermath of an attack, being at the Garden was probably the most foolish. Elta knew that the smartest thing to do would have been to turn and walk in the opposite direction, but instead she’d walked right into the eye of the storm. This place brought back horrible memories that she’d have rather kept buried deep down. So much so that she couldn’t entirely be sure whether the pathetic mewling sounds she heard were coming from the injured or from her own memories.

The sound of someone addressing her caused Elta’s head to snap up. She’d been hovering around the edges, hood pulled low over her head so as to keep her blonde hair tucked away – anything to avoid being notice. “Okay,” she agreed, jumping to action. “Where do you need me?”

The dulcet voice which reached her ears was a somewhat familiar one, and the one she knew Cosima would love to kill. If it were any other day, years ago, Teresa would have hatted on the woman, but... Not today. Not anymore. Not since the woman she worked for had put a price on her lover’s head, Tessa had found that she was no longer as keen to help her as she usually was ( not that she was ever keen, no. the woman simply provided her with what she needed, what she loved, and it was d e a t h ). So, she played dumb.

“Do you see that cart to your right? The one filled with bodies? I need your help in pushing them to the truck.”

[teresathenecromancer]

       They probably should have felt… something. A barrack full of corpses and injured people and yet Atlas stood eerily composed, hardly batting an eye at their gruesome reality, as though the bodies piled on the ground were nothing more to them than old furniture or a tacky carpet to trample upon. Their demeanour had been a stark contrast to the doctors, who, with haggard eyes and knitted brows, bustled around in states of panic, tending to what few patients still clung to life. The only other who stuck out as much as they did was a woman the medics were stealing glances at from the corners of their eyes, in ways that gave Atlas the impression they were either afraid or she held some sway here – which meant she was exactly who they wanted to speak to. Arms folded across their chest, Atlas returned her gaze without the slightest bit of trepidation.

      “If you can draw me up a list of the injured and deceased, I’ll help you with the bodies,” Atlas negotiated fairly. As long as it served their mission, it wasn’t out of their jurisdiction to be here. They’d been visiting various barracks all night, lending assistance in turn for information that could progress their manhunt, checking patient logs for important names or Jane Does that might be among the dead or injured. This was an easy exchange of favours for both.

Teresa arched her eyebrow in slight curiosity -- not many dared to ask her for favour. Not many dared to ask her anything, to be precise. It was a welcome change ( however brief it might be, as sooner or later everyone starts fearing her, recoiling back in terror ), the one she greeted with a smirk on her face. “I guess I could see your face among the mangled and burned. But, careful, dearie. If Cosima finds out about your false status... I will not be pleased.” She warned subtly, circling a little around him, inspecting them.

“Good. I’ll grab them by the legs and you can help me carry them to the cart over there.” She motioned to the right of them. “Just out of curiosity... Why exactly do you want to appear dead?”

[teresathenecromancer]

It took her a moment to move, gaze shifting between the other and the bodies that were currently being carried around by the assigned staff. Wondering why the woman didn’t just asked for someone else’s help but not saying anything regarding the subject. The woman was friendly yet there was something about them that was just odd to make Alex wary of them. “ Alright. ” Her voice was barely above a whisper as she took a step towards the woman. “ Where - – where are you taking the bodies? ” The question came after a while as they waited to be instructed by the other on what to do. Though the question she really wanted to ask was What are you going to do with the bodies? Why were they being taken by The Garden’s people when their family would want to mourn them and probably give them a funeral.

---

Teresa pursed her lips together, forming a soft pout as she inspected Alexis’ forehead wound. It wasn’t too deep, but there might be a nasty headache incoming for her after she sleeps. Mornings were the worst ( in more than one way, she despised mornings; the night had a soothing, almost motherly touch on her ). She squinted her eyes, before dabbing some of the medical alcohol on the woman’ forehead, getting rid of the dried blood. “We will properly deal with them.” Tessa vaguely replied, putting a clean bandage over Alexis’ wound, and motioned her to follow her to a makeshift table that stood on the right from them. “I’ll take them by the arms and you can hold them by the legs.”

[teresathenecromancer]

It took Vanessa less than an split of second to recognise her niece – after all, she had been paying close attention to her all this time. It was a surprise that the two of them haven’t ‘bumped’ into each other sooner, but her aunt didn’t want it to be during work; they needed privacy. Her niece spoke, almost a mortified expression on her face and Vanessa’s stern expression melted into a soft smile, affectionate smile as she looked at her, turning her chair as well.

“Good evening, Teressa. It is me. I’m here.” She said, ignoring the nagging spirit behind her, whispering dark things in her ear. “It is good to see you, my lovely.”

After all this time, she was here. Teresa blinked in her aunts direction, her eyes averting briefly to something she noticed lingering behind the dark woman. She fixed her eyes back on her aunt, ignoring the feeling the ghost produced. She was too shocked to really say anything, other than to gape at Vanessa, her eyes drinking in her appearance -- it was real. She was real. “I -- Yes. It’s good to see you, too, auntie. But, I -- What are you doing here? How long have you been here?” Tessa asked, unable to focus on just one question, her mind swirling with million more.

[teresathenecromancer]

Everything had happened too quickly and all in all too sudden. Despite the fact that it has been actually hours since the first explosion - Alexis can’t tell the difference between hours and seconds anymore not when everything was simply and purely chaos. She had not time to really process anything that was going on when a group of people push her to go with them, saying it was far better if they rushed to a safer place while they still could. Not really knowing what they had meant by that the woman still went with them. It was better than staying within out in the open like she’d been just moments ago. They’re all moving towards one direction and she might have been unaware of what it was the place they wanted to go but one thing she knew it was on the Hive.

At some point someone walking near her makes the questions ‘Are you hurt?’ While pointing towards her forehead and is just then when Alexis realizes she had been bleeding but the problem is - she hadn’t been hurt. Not really, the woman hadn’t been near any place when everything happened, in fact she was as far as the possible from every place the explosions took place so her being hurt made no sense at all. But not many things made sense to her in the forsaken place, she instead shrug it off as a small scratch - though as she raise her hand to clean of the blood on her forehead, Alex realized in fact the wound and blood was her and not someone else’s as she was starting to assume.

She stopped not realizing that the group of people she’d been moving around with kept going forward leaving her behind. All of the sudden her head started to hurt - as if the pain for the wound she still had no idea how she’d obtain; began now. The ache only increased suddenly becoming the only thing her attention was focused on - not noticing the people that kept arriving and how she was standing midst the wrecked of another place, neither how her eyes were focused on someone and wasn’t until they called for her that Alex realized she had been staring for some time now.

“ With – bodies…? ” It was far more of a rhetorical question, only then as well recognizing the corpses of people in the area - how the place was far more damaged than the hospital in The City she’d seen hours ago. “ I can’t – - I’m not.. ”

---

Teresa tilted her head at the woman standing in front of her, frowning slightly -- she remembered her, from back when she helped resurrect her. Alexis, was her name, if she remembered well, but by the look on the girl’s face, she didn’t remember the fact she died. It was good. Less painful, and more promising to not go completely mad by the memory. At her question, Tessa sighed in exasperation, almost rolling her eyes.

“Look, chiquitita, I don’t need your help in any medical sense. I just need a pair of arms to help me carry them to the cart over there.” She motioned towards a truck on the right, jutting her chin in the direction, before a thin stripe of blood made her shift her focus back to Alexis. She was hurt, and Tess scolded herself for not noticing it before, even though she could almost smell the blood. “Come here. I can help you with that wound on your forehead.”

[teresathenecromancer]

Teresa walked into the makeshift barrack, in which she was stationed, like she owned it. Garden’s doctors piled around her left and right, They were snapping dislocated joints back in place, sewing open stitches and pumping oxygen into unconscious men and women. She inspected them, her movements snakelike as her gaze raked across the living -- but, her true interest wasn’t there to the left, no. It was on the right, where corpses stood in various shapes and conditions. She glared at everyone who dared to make direct eye-contact with her, before she noticed someone looking her way, lingering to the side where the bodies were. Teresa briefly narrowed her eyes, before she’s decided she could ” use a hand ”. Her strides were long and quick as she approached them.

“You there. Give me a hand with the bodies, will ya?” And in return she would turn a blind eye on them.

[teresathenecromancer]

Deception || Self-para

When the emergency rooms in the Hive exploded, Teresa was safe in the Garden, pacing around her apartment, unease settling in her bones. There was something in the air, a metallic scent, so much like blood, but a lot more machine-like. When the ground beneath her feel rumbled, like a thunder from below wanted to connect with the heavens above, she knew. The black night sky turned even darker, thick with smoke, and the screams which the wind brought echoed around the Garden made her shudder in both anticipation and horror, and the young Necromancer bolted towards the door.

She was familiar with chaos, intimately so, but this was different ( less sinister than her own chaos, but far deadlier, and she had had her doubts about the identity of the person behind it ). This was a manipulative chaos, a chaos which would bring someone closer to their goal, and she would be stupid to not know who the person was and what was the agenda behind it. Teresa almost ripped her door open, meeting eye to eye with the dark skinned, smirking woman, her hand raised up as if she were about to know.

“Oh, good. Just the witch I needed to see.” Cosima’s smirk grew, and she motioned the Necromancer to follow her. Teresa, naturally, obeyed, but as she walked beside the deadly woman, her mind was spinning with at least a baker’s dozen of plans. Soon, there would be not an alphabet, but a dictionary of plans. She didn’t ask what Cosima needed of her -- she didn’t have to.

“I want you to head down to the Hive. There was an -- unfortunate explosion in their only hospital.” The woman spoke, her voice falsely sympathetic, and Tess heard the amused undertone clearly beneath the pretense. Cosima was so proud of herself, looking like a cat that finally ate the canary, but her words sparked a defiance in the little witch -- and the situation was, in this very moment, quite going to her favour. The Hive. She knew her lover, her Callie, was somewhere around it, and she was worried sick. But, she managed to keep her expression neutral, bored even.

“We must help the people, of course. Let them know that the Garden cares, and that the Rebels -- “

“Oh, my God, will you spit it out already? Save your propaganda for someone who doesn’t know your agendas, Cosima. Let me guess, you want me to go down there, patch people up and, hey, why not, bring them back to life?” At first she snapped, but then the prospect of feeling that tasty darkness again made her face light up. “Say no more. I’m on it.” She added, taking longer strides as Cosima lingered behind her, half-surprised at her outburst and half-pleased by her response. Even though her little show was only half true, Tessa had her own agenda this time, and it was something Cosima will not know about -- she will find Calliope. It was the only reason why she’s accepted the mission in the first place; it will give her an opportunity to see the woman she loves.

“Good. You will not disappoint.” It was not really a question, but it made Teresa turn around, almost a deathly glare fixing on the woman.

“Have I ever?”

[vanessarothsbart-blog]

Location: Pyre’s bar. Time: 01:17 am.

Night was always Vanessa’s favourite part of the day. But, tonight found her in a sour mood, a mood that was requiring a late night drink and a distraction. The more she drank, the less she felt dead things around her, and it was a bonus. To silence the voices even for a few, fleeting moments. It never stuck, not really, and it wasn’t that good of an idea, since she could still see them. But, as long as their loud voices were muffled, she was good.

Ordering her second whiskey, the woman glared around herself. Rebels and clones. If she had it in herself at the moment, she might have cared about seeing so many people and pretend-people in the same place, united by a same goal, but not seeing a familiar face around them, the only face she wanted to see, made her quite cold to their cause.

In that moment, she felt the seat beside her shift and she had to put all her effort into not glaring at them or rolling her eyes in annoyance, as she turned to the source of her discomfort, and their talking.

“What was that, again? I didn’t hear you from the constant yapping around us. Speak up.” Only briefly did she glare at the taking spirit behind them, before shifting her focus back to the living.

[teresathenecromancer]

She was supposed to bump into Calliope -- that was, really, the only reason why she was in the Pyre bar in the first place. It’s not like she’d lurk in a rebel hangout, especially if the said rebels knew about her position in Cosima’s army. Teresa manuevered her way towards a bar stool, ordering herself a glass of whiskey, with ice. There was a person beside her, someone dark and undeniably familiar, sitting with her own drink. The young Necromancer felt something, a great deal of something screaming at her to touch her, feel the looming, black presence beside her, but before she could give in to the compulsion ( rarely nowadays did she find herself resisting the darkness ), the woman spoke, turning around to fix her with her dark, dark eyes.

Familiar eyes ( eyes that looked into her soul, sucking at it, twisting it and turning it around like a carousel ) met hers, and it took Tessa only a split of second to recognise her, remember her. She was there. After all these years, she was finally there. Her aunt. Her family.

“A -- Aunt Vanessa?” Tess called out, her throat dry, not believing the image she saw in front of herself ( the dead were deceptive, and what if she was one of them? ), as she rotated on the stool to face her. “Is that really you?”

[teresathenecromancer]

Would they figure things out? Would she figure things out? The last thing Calliope wanted was to pull Tess into her own mess with Cosima. There was no doubting the power the woman held over everyone and Callie didn’t want that power to come crashing down on the woman she loved the same way it had started crashing down around her. The feel of it was a tightness in her chest, a pressure on her shoulders, and a hole in her stomach when she was cast out after she put everything into what she did. Cosima asked and she never hesitated ( even if she should have ). It didn’t matter at the end of the day when Calliope was trapped where she was — a hideout as well as her own mind — while she tried getting things right.

“She won’t find out.” The words passed her lips without the ability to sound as sure about it as she would like. IF the woman did find out, that was the end of this and the end of her. Calliope knew better than to even ask for the extra time, but that little bit she did ask for was worth the risk in her eyes. “I don’t want to talk about her,” she hummed, pushing herself to the very edge of the bed while letting out a deep sigh. “I don’t even want to think about her. Not if I’ve only got five more minutes.” Her pointer finger reached out to brush a lock of hair behind her lover’s ear before her thumb brushed against the cheek of the woman before her.

“I miss you already.”

---

Teresa wasn’t as optimistic and trusting as her girlfriend was ( how could she, when she knew of everything that lurked underneath, everything twisted and deranged waiting to be unleashed -- she waited to be unleashed, again ). “Whatever you say, my love. We won’t talk about her or Garden if you don’t want to. But, we definitely ought to be more careful. I won’t have her find you, not under these circumstances, not until we’ve figured out how to get you back where you belong.” She softly spoke, leaning her head against Calliope’s finger as she caressed her cheek.

“I miss you too, love. I hate not having you around the Garden. I swear, you’re the only thing which keeps me sane in that Godforsaken place.” Tessa sighed, turning around so she could look at her lover’s eyes. “I know you don’t want to talk, or think about it, but do you have a plan?”

[teresathenecromancer]

that part, he has to agree with.  and he honestly can’t imagine it.  enjoying the torment - the pain - of another living being. though he’s more than aware that beings like that exit in eden – in abundance.  it’s something that’s twisted beyond his understanding.  so at her further addition to his little scenario, there’s a purse of lips, followed by a nod of his head.

“it makes me wonder what they get out of it.  power?  a sense of superiority?  or is there just something so far awry with their morality that they do actually - enjoy it…?”

there’s a shudder and a grimace, noah visibly trying to shake off the concept that there might be anything even remotely ‘enjoyable’ about it…  

–a flash: he’s in a shack - nothing more than that - tin and wood held together by spit and hope for the most part. MISSION OBJECTIVE:  Take out the intruders | Exterminate Witnesses and inside the shack - three bodies.  one with their neck snapped, splayed out on the filthy floor with their head at some obscene angle - glassy dead eyes staring off into the abyss of their own demise.  two more riddled with bullets.  their flesh torn apart and gaping.  blood decorating the flimsy walls.  and a fourth.  a youth, no more than fifteen or sixteen.  crouched in a corner with wide eyes and gaping mouth.  a piece of wood clutched in white knuckled hands - trying to defend himself against the inevitable. – Exterminate Witnesses  – the wood swings as his reaper draws closer - snatched out of his grip and tossed easily to one side, eyes squeezing shut as warm steel is pressed to his temple.  a sharp breath sucked in and held.  waiting for darkness.  for nothingness.  it doesn’t come.  not straight away. hesitation.  second thought.  spare a life - fail the mission. perhaps that’s a consequence he’s ready to accept.  the gun is pulled away and those eyes open.  they’re blue.  strikingly pale against blown wide irises.  lip trembling - trying to find some words.  but they never come.  there’s the sound of a shot and his visual moves.  in the door of the shack - another silhouette - one with the same mission as he has.  the curl of smoke from the end of the gun in the hand of the other is starkly visible.  he hears the body crumple behind him. FINAL REPORT:  Mission Successful

he can hear her words through the movie that plays in his mind.  it’s as though she’s reached in and pulled out his very thoughts - articulating out loud the exact thing that he’s feeling.

“yes.”

the word is small but immediate.  and he’s slightly astonished.  not the dreams.  he’s not sure if he dreams, but there’s something that happens when he closes his eyes.  dark things.  things he’s not sure he wants to see in any kind of sharp focus.

“yes – the second thing… the… ‘click’.  that’s exactly it.”

he swivels on the bar stool to completely face her now.  and she has his complete and rapt attention.  a casual conversation has turned into something else.  has turned into something… hopeful - and it’s probably clear by the look on his face that he – is hopeful.  this woman, this dark haired stranger with serpents and shadows - she might just have the answers he’s been looking for.

“it’s like – it’s all there.  but i just can’t see it?  memories, but they’re blurred.  some parts i can see.  some parts are… less clear.  and faces… faces of people that i’ve known my whole life - they… don’t quite – fit.  i guess – it’s like the ‘shape’ of everything is there, but the details are… muddled.”

“you… you know what this is?  i mean, it’s happened to other people?”

--

Teresa pondered the answer for a moment, but she knew it. “Power. That is what they get, yes. And as for their sense of morality -- I fear none of them have it. Once you turn to murder out of vengeance or out of pleasure, it’s hard to find your way back to the person you once were. Evil isn’t born, it made. With all the wrong choices, with the thirst for power and things we shouldn’t have. Love and loss can corrupt people, especially if you lose the one thing that’s most important to you, the one person that matters.”  She thought about Cosima in that moment. She knew what made her who she was, and in the beginning, Tessa sympathised with her -- a loss of  a close family member, someone who was your other half... That can make people do unforgivable things. But, then, she remained a monster. That did not have any excuse -- she tasted the power and gave in. The necromancer wondered if she’d turn out like that -- completely ruthless, seduced by her own power, by playing God. In her mind, she was already beginning to think of herself as such -- whom else did have the powers to bring the dead back to life?

It was then that she’s noticed it, realised it. He was a clone. Definitely a rouge one, and brainwashed, like the others, but there was something different to him -- he had his memories. They were locked, yes, but they were there, and for a second, Teresa didn’t know how to proceed. She knew her orders -- should she encounter a rouge clone she was to report back to Cosima, bring them in. But, the hopeful look in his eyes reminded her too much of herself when she first came here, and in that moment she made a reckless decision. What Cosima didn’t know, wouldn’t harm her. And maybe, just maybe, this clone to prove to be -- crucial for the future.

As he spoke, turning completely to face her, she did the same, tilting her head and she turned to observe him. “That is natural. It happens.” That might have been a white lie, but it was not on her to tell him what he was -- she felt like there was a reason why he didn’t know he was no longer human. “Everything you need to know is there. Trust those little visions you have, they will guide you. In time, you will know. When something starts to feel so wrong, so twisted, it usually serves to bring you to the thing that is right. I fear I can’t really explain it, but -- those memories you have, they aren’t the figment of your imagination, they’re there for a reason, and something blocks them. Do they feel right to you? These fragments of memories you have? Do you feel like you know them to be true?” She knew he did, deep down, but she had to ask -- had to guide him to it.

“Yes, I have seen it before, many times. With guidance, and a lot of patience, you can remember. And as for people and places... Do you ever meet a person that feels right to you, although it’s the first time you’ve encountered them?” She asked, tilting her head. “That happens because you’ve met them before, you just can’t remember it. Does this make any sense to you?”

[heyisthisthingon]

[teresathenecromancer]

heyisthisthingon

All the best artists are scoring this film!!

Skylar Grey – Wreak Havoc (Suicide Squad Soundtrack)

They call me a menace They say that I’m cursed

I herd 'em like cattle 'Cause I’m surrounded by cowards And I don’t give a fuck when I walk into battle And thats why I got all the power

I can smell your fear The only reason that I’m here Is to wreak havoc

[teresathenecromancer]

I Will Be Me Till the Death Of Me || Self para

Easy. A word Teresa didn’t know the meaning. Her life was never easy, not one thing in it made sense, even from the beginning. The only thing which made sense, was her aunt, but even she was gone before Teresa could really comprehend, before she could beg her to take her with her, to teach her the similarities of their gifts.

She remembered the proud woman, someone was young and old at the same time,the brunette with dark eyes and a deadly promise behind them. But, she left. Her first memory of a loved one, was the said loved one leaving her alone, with her parents and a village full of people who almost waved pitchfork in her direction. It took Tessa a good few years to find out that her aunt left because the threat of death was too loud, too close, and she fled saving her life. If she took the young girl with her, she would have sealed her fate a lot sooner ( but the screams she produced when she slept, the screams the produced the first time she resurrected a dead creature on an impulse set it in stone ). Her aunt was the only person who could understand her, truly, and she left and Teresa has yet to track her down.

The memory of the two of them curled by the campfire while the older woman told her stories of how something beautiful, how magic pulsed though their veins, how they were descended from the great Goddess Hecate herself, that was what kept Tessa going all these years. The memory that she was special and that she wasn’t a monster, but that her gift was hers for a reason -- just like her aunt’s gift belonged to her for a reason. The memory of her aunt is what keeps her going, what helps her feel special when the world around her is crumbling down.

Her aunt, and then her lover, and both of them are elusive from her life -- one by the anonymity of her whereabouts, the other by the things which led to her exile from the Garden.

[calliopevxga-blog]

— Availability: Closed — Location: Portia’s Houses — With: @teresathenecromancer

Everything in her life had fallen apart over time. Whether it came down to her current situation or long before that when things were never very simple. It went beyond ’simple’ over time and Calliope could only blame herself over and over again. It would be easy to blame someone else ( especially the one person who deserved the blame—COSIMA ), yet that wasn’t the case when she blamed herself for allowing it all to get to her to begin with. She took the steps that led her to where she was; she let things play out the way she had; she let the woman of power get under her skin.

It will be fine. It will all be back to the way it was.

All she had to do was find a way of slipping back into things. It would take time, but she could keep her head down while she hid away for the time being. All she needed was a plan and just enough time to get things in order.

However, the only thing she needed now was the one person who could take her away from it all. The one person — the only woman who could guide her away from the agony that they were both forced to suffer. That was the same person whose hand she currently slipped her own into, lacing their fingers together when it was getting to be that time where Tess would leave to her own residency.

“Five more minutes.” It was a time Calliope hated when it was always inevitable since they couldn’t get caught. Even so, she still held on without the want or need to pull back when they were safely tucked away in her own residency for now. “Or maybe ten.”

[teresathenecromancer]

---

It was hard for Teresa to stay back, but what made it easier was the dangers surrounding both of them. Cosima haven’t found out that she and her lover were seeing each other, but if she did, there would only be the matter of time before they followed her, tracking down her lover in her hiding. Tess wasn’t stupid, and she was quite knowledgeable of the things. She knew what happened with Cosima and Calliope, she knew it was as bad as it can be, and she had had her doubts about Calli ever making it back ( not because she doubted her lover’s skill, no. Calliope was a skilled, fine young woman. She doubted Cosima’s word of honour, as she never did show even a smidgen of it ).

She kept their fingers intertwined as she drew Calliope’s hand to her mouth a kissed it, before swinging her legs to the side of the bed, pulling up her black shirt from the floor. She turned towards Calliope as she spoke, and she gave her an affectionate, sad smile. “BabyGirl, you know I can’t. It is dangerous as it is. There is a curfew, as you well remember, and if I am late one more time, she would have me followed. I don’t want her finding you, not until we’ve figured things out.” She gently said, untangling her fingers from Calli’s, before she drew her hand to caress her lover’s cheek.

“Five minutes, Calli. But, then I have to go.”

[teresathenecromancer]

“define evil.  define villain.  i don’t think those words mean the same thing to everyone.”

he thinks for a moment…  tries to place them into some kind of context.

“some guy - defending his home, his family - against people who might want to do them harm… to his wife, to his children, he’s a hero.  their protector, their saviour.  and to those wanting to do harm - he’s the nemesis, the enemy - the one they have to break… if he succeeds - fights them off, maybe even kills them… is he a murderer, a sinner, something pure evil?  or is he a guardian, a paladin to those he saves?”

noah gives another small shrug - managing to recover quickly after his own ‘shock to the system’.  

“i think, if i were that man - i’d rather sin for the sake of saving.  perhaps even become evil in the eyes of others.  i’d like to think i’d have the strength to make the harder choice, for the right reasons.”

Can you see a villain becoming a hero?

he just gets the feeling that she’s already resigned to ‘the worst of people’ - whatever that might be.  that there’s no such thing as redemption, that striving for more good in the world is a fruitless endeavour.  while he’s sure that she’s probably right about some, he just can’t bring himself to believe that it applies to ‘all’.  maybe not even ‘most’.  but even if just - one person… just one… can make the ‘hard choice for the right reason’ - then that’s good enough.  

“i guess it’s a matter of – perspective.  hero to one.  villain to another.  saint.  sinner… i don’t think the lines are ever that clean.  but – yeah, i do believe that people can change.”

Actually, I think I understand what you are going through a little too well.

…that definitely gives him pause.  for the second time in perhaps as many minutes.  huh–

“well maybe you could explain it to me - ‘cos i sure as hell don’t…”

he’s obviously - not - expecting much.  a casual - yet intriguing - conversation with a stranger.  but at this point, he’s pretty open to ideas, so if it’s something that might help then… sure - why not?

--

Teresa listened to his explanation, nodding along as she agreed. But, what he said was not correct, not really. “In the eyes of majority, the man protecting his family would be a hero. Being a villain or evil is about achieving one’s goals through murder, fear, terror and complete disregard of others. Evil is a person who knows how to hurt people and who does it -- for the sake of it. Sometimes they do it because they like it, sometimes they need information. But, the bottom line is -- evil people enjoy others’ pain.”

“Lines never are clean.” She almost snorted, the very futility of making things black-and-white almost amusing. She listened to him, again, and reluctantly nodded. “People can change, but they rarely do. I am surrounded by the textbook examples of it.” She sighed, taking a sip of her drink, when his question made her pause. She didn’t really know who he was, or even what he was, but she had had her idea -- she didn’t see the mark, so perhaps she was a rouge resurrect, but then again if he were, he’d have remembered at least something by now ( they always did, unless they were made a clone. but, resurrected people, in the end, always remembered their past, their pain, everything which made them who they were ). For a moment, she thought about how to proceed with him. What do say? How much to reveal?

“Do you ever get dreams that make you feel like they’ve happened? Not the thing we used to called deja-vu, no, but like -- a memory. Do you ever get the feeling that there is something in your brain, something beneath the surface that just waits to click into the spot, unlocking everything?” Tess casually asked, as if it were none of her business, really. With his answer, she would determine what he was -- a resurrect or a clone.