None of this is... good, is the first thing Lina thinks. She isn't worried about the cold as much, even though she's bundled up as much as she can be. She has a scarf, she has a sweater, they're both pulled up over her mouth. She's got fuzzy boots and thick pants and she's still feeling just absolutely bitterly cold, and that's just. All of that is secondary to the path she had to take to get up here. Everything she encountered on the way, tugging herself up with her enhanced strength with little concern about her body or being human anymore.
Because she's not. And because if her family isn't willing to work together to figure something out, she has to do this herself. She has to take things into her own hands, no matter how terrifying they are. But the problem is that the more she sees, the more she reads by the light of her phone, the less even the original Carmelina Geteilt felt like a human. Before Two. If she was designed for this, if she was supposed to become a vessel for other souls like she's heard about before, then it means... the story that this place is telling means that she was never human. Doesn't it?
She has to stop, she has to rest her head, and she does it by crossing her arms and using them as a makeshift pillow as she leans forward against the nearest wall. The grinding and screaming feels like it's driving her mad. She feels like she needs to use this strength of hers to shatter something as soon as possible, and she pushes off the wall and lets out a yell and punches it hard enough to leave a hole a few inches deep.
It's only then that she looks around and notices she isn't actually alone, but she's offering no explanation for what she just did. "None of this can be real," she says instead, her teeth clenched. "I wasn't born to be like this."
v. it's a good feeling just to still be living
Okay. Okay. It's fine. Everything's fine. She just needs to go out and enjoy life a little more. Just... take some time to unwind at the art museum. It's not a place she usually goes, but she needs distance, she needs a place where people who know her might not actually run into her—not that, she thinks grimly, there are very many of those people left anyway.
But it's fine. She's sitting down on a bench under some not-too-harsh overhead lights, and she just. Tilts her head back, runs her hands through her hair, and sighs. It'll be fine. Everything will be fine. See, look, they even put out some complementary fruit, tastefully arranged in a bowl that even looks like its textures were painted on. She can just relax and grab a big leafy green apple and—
Immediately spit it out. "Blech! Is that paint?" she asks whoever's nearby as her face twists and she looks at the disgusting bite mark she just left in the sketchiest apple she's ever seen.
x. this talk's insanity, or is it just another kid's amen [wildcard]
no subject
None of this is... good, is the first thing Lina thinks. She isn't worried about the cold as much, even though she's bundled up as much as she can be. She has a scarf, she has a sweater, they're both pulled up over her mouth. She's got fuzzy boots and thick pants and she's still feeling just absolutely bitterly cold, and that's just. All of that is secondary to the path she had to take to get up here. Everything she encountered on the way, tugging herself up with her enhanced strength with little concern about her body or being human anymore.
Because she's not. And because if her family isn't willing to work together to figure something out, she has to do this herself. She has to take things into her own hands, no matter how terrifying they are. But the problem is that the more she sees, the more she reads by the light of her phone, the less even the original Carmelina Geteilt felt like a human. Before Two. If she was designed for this, if she was supposed to become a vessel for other souls like she's heard about before, then it means... the story that this place is telling means that she was never human. Doesn't it?
She has to stop, she has to rest her head, and she does it by crossing her arms and using them as a makeshift pillow as she leans forward against the nearest wall. The grinding and screaming feels like it's driving her mad. She feels like she needs to use this strength of hers to shatter something as soon as possible, and she pushes off the wall and lets out a yell and punches it hard enough to leave a hole a few inches deep.
It's only then that she looks around and notices she isn't actually alone, but she's offering no explanation for what she just did. "None of this can be real," she says instead, her teeth clenched. "I wasn't born to be like this."
v. it's a good feeling just to still be living
Okay. Okay. It's fine. Everything's fine. She just needs to go out and enjoy life a little more. Just... take some time to unwind at the art museum. It's not a place she usually goes, but she needs distance, she needs a place where people who know her might not actually run into her—not that, she thinks grimly, there are very many of those people left anyway.
But it's fine. She's sitting down on a bench under some not-too-harsh overhead lights, and she just. Tilts her head back, runs her hands through her hair, and sighs. It'll be fine. Everything will be fine. See, look, they even put out some complementary fruit, tastefully arranged in a bowl that even looks like its textures were painted on. She can just relax and grab a big leafy green apple and—
Immediately spit it out. "Blech! Is that paint?" she asks whoever's nearby as her face twists and she looks at the disgusting bite mark she just left in the sketchiest apple she's ever seen.
x. this talk's insanity, or is it just another kid's amen [wildcard]
((again, hit me up here or on