konstant: (Baseline)
KD6-3.7 ([personal profile] konstant) wrote2037-07-05 07:23 pm
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thecanarylives: (talking: arms crossed)

[personal profile] thecanarylives 2022-08-06 05:50 am (UTC)(link)
Maybe for K, nature vs. nurture is simply programming vs. adaptation. Hasn't Sara been programmed by the League? Broken down and rebuilt into a weapon, someone they could point and shoot, carry out assignments and orders just like he did? Hadn't she put down people, hunted down her own kind, just like he had?

If humans had a baseline test, she would've failed hers a long time ago. She wasn't anywhere close to the girl who'd left on that boat all those years ago. Scared, selfish, innocent.

"What?" She frowns, barely catching the word under his breath. But he breezes past it before she has a chance to latch on, and when he shudders, something cold runs down her own spine, her fingers threading through his.

"Is that the first memory you have?" False memory or not, it's a horrifying one to have rattling around in your brain. "Do you... do they give you memories? A childhood?"
thecanarylives: (sad: down dark)

[personal profile] thecanarylives 2022-08-06 06:20 am (UTC)(link)
She can feel the tension ebb and flow in the muscles of his hand. The desire to retreat into yourself, hide away from the sharp edges, from the memories that only remind you of how broken and fractured you really are. But he keeps coming back, keeps opening up pieces of himself, and she's grateful for that. Grateful that he's seen the broken pieces of her and hasn't retreated, either.

The way he describes it makes her uneasy, wraps around her lungs and squeezes. "That's where he took you." When he'd disappeared. That's where he'd trapped him the second time. When she wasn't around to stop it.

Her fingers curl against his, like she needs the assurance that he's here. That he'd made it out of that place, made it back. Twelve memories doesn't seem like nearly enough. He deserves better. Deserves more, a hell of a lot more than most of the humans she knows.
thecanarylives: (sad: distant)

[personal profile] thecanarylives 2022-08-06 06:59 am (UTC)(link)
It makes her sick, turns her stomach to know that's how he died. Alone, in the dark, treated like a thing, reinforcing the absolute worst of what he's been told, over and over again. That feeling - the despair surrounding his doppelganger was overwhelming. Nearly swallowed her whole, and that's how he'd gone down. Drowning in it.

She tries to suck in a breath, the air shallow in her lungs, the darkness and the smoke thick in the air around them. If she's his anchor, he's just as much hers. She stares down at their hands, chewing at the inside of her lip as she thinks on his question. There's a dry laugh on her lips, one that doesn't have any real mirth to it.

"Shameful and terrible is pretty much where I live," she admits, the pad of her thumb tracing the curve of his wrist. "But I chose that path. You... you don't deserve that."
thecanarylives: (angry: frown)

[personal profile] thecanarylives 2022-08-06 07:25 am (UTC)(link)
It's the most she's seen him speak, the words tumbling out of him freely, tight with emotion that he's usually so good at masking. He's unraveling, fear heavy, raw in his voice, and her hand slips out of his only so she can shift in closer, take his face in both of hers.

"Stop- hey, look at me." She looks him squarely in the eyes, steady. "Just because something was programmed into you doesn't make it right. Those rules, those guidelines, they were created by people, right? Fallible, human people, and humans are shit at choosing right from wrong. So you going rogue, that was your choice to do what you thought was right. And I'd trust that judgment over any of those assholes I saw at the station."
thecanarylives: (neutral: tank)

[personal profile] thecanarylives 2022-08-06 02:31 pm (UTC)(link)
There's so much she's missing. So many pieces to wrap her mind around, so many factors that affect how he sees the world, how his world saw him.

Her touch is light, but insistent. And when she's sure he won't fight her on that, she lets her hands slip back down into her lap, searching his features quietly.

"Nothing about where you come from is easy. But it's like I told you. You don't have to stick by those rules anymore. No one here sees you as... as they did."
thecanarylives: (neutral: tank)

[personal profile] thecanarylives 2022-08-06 09:05 pm (UTC)(link)
She knows what it's like. To seek comfort in something terrible, but familiar. The League, destructive as it was to her soul, to the person she used to be, was home for six years. Familiar. Structured. But eventually, it had all become too much.

He reminds her of the mark that signifies his standing here, arbitrary as it is. She frowns at it, gaze lingering there for a moment.

"I know you are," she concedes quietly. "But you're not alone, okay? This... this place is a mess, but it can be better than it was at home. It will be."
thecanarylives: (smile: look down)

[personal profile] thecanarylives 2022-08-06 11:39 pm (UTC)(link)
Sara's anger may run hot, easily ignited by something that might seem trivial. But she cares deeply about the few people in her life she lets in. And K's a part of that now. She's not sure how it happened, when it happened, but it's not so easily shaken.

She studies him curiously, anticipating a request, already half agreeing to whatever the hell it is - if it'll help. If it'll cushion the below. When it actually lands, she sputters out a soft laugh, smiling down at her hands.

"That I can do," she replies, lifting her gaze to his again. "You hungry?" She slips off the bed, reclaiming the backpack she'd brought and digging around in it for a lump wrapped in foil. "Barry made... I dunno what this is. Banana bread, maybe."
thecanarylives: (smile: look up)

[personal profile] thecanarylives 2022-08-07 05:30 am (UTC)(link)
She's seen his eyes light up at the simplest things - a mixed drink, a piece of fresh fruit, a random appetizer they serve at the bar. She's gotten into the habit of mixing up small tastes of this and that at the bar - a shot with a spice he's never tried or a juice they've just gotten in.

There's not much light in his eyes now, though. Not after that thing had gone and snuffed it out. Still, he's trying, like he said he would, and at the very least he has to be starving from everything he's just been though.

She toes off her boots, unwraps the tin foil and perches back onto the edge of the bed next to him, crossing her legs underneath herself and offering it out for him to break off a piece. "It's good. There's chocolate chips in it." She grabs a piece for herself, munching on it thoughtfully, trying hard not to keep looking over him, keep checking to make sure he's not crumbling.

"I think pretty much everything he makes is amazing. But I'm shit in the kitchen." She offers a small smile. "Do you have a favorite food?"
thecanarylives: (Default)

[personal profile] thecanarylives 2022-08-07 05:53 am (UTC)(link)
That little wrinkle in his brow gets a look of concern from her, but when he explains his confusion, she blurts out a genuine laugh. "I mean... it looks like bread?" She shrugs. "It's just... it's got bananas baked into it."

She hadn't expected to have to explain the concept of banana bread to him, still smiling as she breaks off another piece and munches on it. Watching his expression curiously when he takes a bite, she nods at his list.

"They make maple bacon donuts. Sweet and salty. They're really good. Though I'd actually kill for some of those sour gummies right now."
thecanarylives: (Default)

[personal profile] thecanarylives 2022-08-07 10:35 pm (UTC)(link)
She's satisfied, at least, that he's able to keep it down. He needs something to keep him going besides cigarettes and nightmares, and if there's anything that can bring some kind of light into his life right now, she's glad for it.

His joke is surprising, welcome, though a lot of things about him are surprising. She gives him a smile, munching on another piece. "Used to?"
thecanarylives: (smile: look up)

[personal profile] thecanarylives 2022-08-08 12:03 am (UTC)(link)
She listens curiously, toying with the piece of tin foil in her lap, imagining a world where whole pieces of history, culture were just... lost. Removed in chunks, along with the taste of food and drink.

"Some of that stuff I don't even think I've had," she concedes. What the hell even goes in a charlotte russe? But with all the conveniences of her own world - delivery, melting pots of culture, fast food, convenience stores - she can't imagine a world where you could conjure up a food you'd want to try and not be able to go out and get it.

"You can still have a list. Make sure you've tried the stuff you've always wanted to, on top of everything else." She chews thoughtfully a moment. "What were your favorites? From the movies you watched?
thecanarylives: (smile: look down)

[personal profile] thecanarylives 2022-08-08 12:27 am (UTC)(link)
"God, you really do like all of it, don't you?" she chuckles. Cranberry juice was only ever good with vodka, in her opinion, but she's not here to judge. "There's so much more, though. Pizza, my god. Tell me you've had pizza."

She reaches out to brush a crumb of banana bread off the front of his shirt, brow furrowing as she remembers the flash of blood there - the bullet she'd buried into his chest - before she blinks it away, glancing back up at him.

"From the Narnia movie? God, I forgot about those." She chuckles, shaking her head. "I've had it a few times in Istanbul. It's good. Sweet, chewy. I like the ones with chopped nuts in them the best."

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