Stephanie Brown (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spoileralert) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
snowblindrpg2017-04-17 03:30 pm
spoileralert) wrote in snowblindrpg2017-04-17 03:30 pm
[log] Screw up to the beat of my own drum [closed]
Characters: Stephanie Brown, Stephen Strange, Alphonse Elric, Hugo Vasquez
Location: AAB8 - 271
Date: Day 229
Summary: Event Shenanigans and a Reunion
Warnings: In comment subjects, please!
271: A small, enclosed bus stop that probably serviced the building inside the fence back when things weren't abandoned. The bus stop is enclosed completely in glass, making it possible to spend the night here, though the benches are a little uncomfortable to sleep on. Interestingly, the lights here still work, on and off--at night, the lights flicker on and off at random, which may also make it difficult to sleep. The vending machines here are smashed open, but food and drinks are still placed inside them. They do not restock when people are staying here, so make sure you don't run yourself out of food! "ALPHONSE ELRIC, DAY TWO HUNDRED AND TWENTY SEVEN, FOR ANY ASSISTANCE PLEASE CONTACT @LELRIC." is written on a wall.
Location: AAB8 - 271
Date: Day 229
Summary: Event Shenanigans and a Reunion
Warnings: In comment subjects, please!
271: A small, enclosed bus stop that probably serviced the building inside the fence back when things weren't abandoned. The bus stop is enclosed completely in glass, making it possible to spend the night here, though the benches are a little uncomfortable to sleep on. Interestingly, the lights here still work, on and off--at night, the lights flicker on and off at random, which may also make it difficult to sleep. The vending machines here are smashed open, but food and drinks are still placed inside them. They do not restock when people are staying here, so make sure you don't run yourself out of food! "ALPHONSE ELRIC, DAY TWO HUNDRED AND TWENTY SEVEN, FOR ANY ASSISTANCE PLEASE CONTACT @LELRIC." is written on a wall.
Evening - ota
To someone who lost their light, though, there is only the muted teal of her clothing and a missing face. Stephen's face has been drawn since he laid eyes on her, but not once has he spoken her name. It's not her. It can't be her. The anomalies aren't people.
Except they were a few days ago.
Now, glass safely (safely?) between them, he paces the length of the bus station, watching her pace along the other side.]
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[Al has been watching him pace for almost a half hour, heart aching for him. He's careful not to look at his own anomaly, the blank face of Martel as she watches him in what seems to be judgement.]
You can't do this to yourself. Please, sit down.
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It's alright. I'm not tired.
[Al's traveled with him long enough now to probably have caught on that Stephen doesn't sleep much. He's always tired, but right now he shows no inclination of settling down.]
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It's not whoever you think it is. It's not, and letting it get to you like this isn't fair. Please, Dr. Strange, sit down with me for a while.
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[If it comes out sharper than he meant it to, it's because Al's only voicing what Stephen's been trying to convince himself must be true. Whatever he's seeing out there isn't Christine, because it can't be. He can't conscion the possibility. It wouldn't be fair.
And because Stephen Strange knows better than to think the world is fair, he can't stop worrying at the painful thought that maybe he and Al are wrong.]
Sitting isn't going to make her go away.
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[He's not going to back down, though he makes sure his tone is compassionate as well as firm.]
We don't know what's going to happen in the next few days, they might become aggressive and we'll need to be on top form to run if that happens. Which means you need to rest and eat. Now.
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[He'll take what he can get, digging in his pack for some food.]
Do you... do you want to tell me who she is?
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[If the answer is awkward and stilted, it's because Stephen doesn't even know what Christine and he are to one another anymore. Friend seems about what he can hope for. He cups his hand over the broken watch he always wears on his wrist as he watches her still form out in the snow.]
Doctor Christine Palmer. She's a trauma surgeon at the hospital where I used to work.
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Maybe if you talk about her, who she really is, it'll help remind you that she's not-- that's not her. I know that mine, I know she's not who she looks like... Martel is dead.
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[He states it like a fact -- there's nothing lovelorn about his voice, none of the excessive awe that would be there if he were putting her on a pedestal out of some remembered attraction.]
She figured out what's important in life a long time before I did. I was an asshole to her.
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Do you think that's why they look that way, because those are the people we've wronged?
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Tell me about Martel?
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Martel was a-- she worked with someone called Greed, and they were hiding from the Amestrian army. I was where their hideout was when the military attacked, led by Fuhrer King Bradley, and the others told me to keep Martel inside me and get her to safety.
[Sort of true, skipping the part where he'd only been there because they kidnapped him in the first place.]
Most of the others were killed and she wouldn't-- she kept fighting me, trying to take control of my body from the inside. She tried to strangle Fuhrer King Bradley, and so he ran me through with his sword and... there was so much blood, they had to open me up to get her body out.
[His voice is tiny and tight by the time he's done.]
I should have fought harder, she didn't deserve that.
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You didn't deserve that, either.
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You're both making me dizzy. And kinda nauseous.
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[He doesn't sound sorry. He doesn't sound anything, his voice coming out all flat.]
I can't exactly stop her.
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[ And for some reason Steph is drawn to the movement. It's something to look at, anyway. ]
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[He stops, finally, still standing next to the glass. On the other side of it
Christinethe anomaly comes to a halt as well, that same blank stare still trained on him.]no subject
You might feel better if you stopped staring at her, too.
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[Stephen draws in a ragged breath, pressing a shaky hand to his face.]
It. It's not her.
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[Not human. Not a person. If it's a her, that's just one step away from it being Christine.]
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Whatever you say, Strange.
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[Funny, he doesn't feel any better now. Stephen turns back to the window, leaning on it even though he feels lightheaded coming so close to the anomaly even with a barrier between them.]