this world isnβt real.Β kitty knew that as she knew herself, with a vague sense of certainty and two handfuls of sheer stubbornness. in spite of that, she had managed to keep the truth to herself long enough to maintain the illusion of sanity. well, that, and she hadnβt been doing a whole lot of talking as of late. in fact, that evening kitty realized she hadnβt said a word all day, and was suddenly overcome with the devastating need to prove herself that she still existed in whatever sort of tangible reality they were trapped in.
dropping the paint brush with a wet thud that splattered the wall with purple, she moved away from the mural in her studio and changed into clean clothes. black top, pleated skirt and mismatched socks thrown together with a denim jacket covered in ridiculous patches and combat boots. in her rush out the door and no more than a quick look into the bathroom mirror, kitty never noticed the dried paint that peppered the skin of her neck. she was already on the bus when her then rolled up sleeves revealed the paint on the inside of her elbows.
it kind of matched her skirt.Β
hopping off ten stations away, she walked the rest of the way into the bar. that was the perfect place to see and be seen. a little alcohol and complete strangers will act like theyβve known each other for centuries. of course itβs all fabrication, but donβt let the doctors hear you saying that. ordering herself a drink was odd. her voice sounded unnatural to her own ears. had she ever stopped to think what it was supposed to sound like? did she have an accent? maybe she was brittish and she had simply forgotten. blimey!Β no, that didnβt feel right.
the green fairy was barely around when she caught sight of a loner, either drowning their sorrows or waiting on someone else to arrive. kitty didnβt linger on the thought, marching across the bar and taking a seat across from them without further ado. offering them a lopsided grin, she asked: βwhat would you do today if you were gonna die tomorrow?β already starting to feel more like herself, or maybe it was the alcohol.
for the past year, nicolaβs focus has only been on a three things: her family, work, training (it used to be only work and training, until she both had cleo and marissa in her life). she was left with two as of late because of an incidentΒ on that certain day, which has left her injured and she was advised by her doctors to lay low from it for some time. with that and the sternness of her girlfriends regarding the matter, she felt like....somehow....forced to give it up. she doesnβt want anyone to worry about her.
she missed training, if you ask her. it was that one thing that kept her from having herself alone and in deep with her thoughts. that certain....forbidden day felt so close, but when you look at it, itβs still far. the memory of it has been getting louder, clearer. she hated it, she hated it so badly. it has been more than a decade, and sheβs found not one but two people she loves so much, yet it still hurt. the death of her wife still hurt. she just wanted her back for it to stop. she was taken away from her and she didnβt even have any chance to save her.
itβs too quiet in her office, so the bar owner decides to head downstairs, mingle with pynk potionβs patrons, even just for a bit. she goes straight to the bar, sits on the very far end and orders herself a mojito. she spends the next thirty minutes drinking and watching everyone else at the bar, figuring out by herself what their story might by, why are they here and who they are with. itβs kind of a way to distract herself from the negative thoughts she was trying not to get to her.Β
her eyes landed on the blonde who just entered the place, who was immediately not only walking up the bar, but exactly just where sheβs seated. she was immediately taken aback by her question, but didnβt let her emotions be exposed to the other.Β βspend the last moments of it with the people i love who was still living and look forward to where i go next.β she responds, then downs the rest of her drink.Β βwhat would you do if you were going to die tomorrow?β she asks in return.
