exsiliumlogs | (open) celebrating everything it took to free us from the land of the broken and betrayed

Entry tags:

(open) celebrating everything it took to free us from the land of the broken and betrayed

Date & Time: February 12th - February 14th
Location: Throughout Exsilium
Characters: ANY & ALL
Summary: Separation Awareness Day is a festival and time of celebration for the hard won and retained freedoms of those who live on the island of Exsilium. Separate from the United Earth, they continue to exist, and thrive in their own way. As those identified as teenagers and children are showered with gifts of sweets, foods, and toys from the adult population, merchants are selling on the streets and color had invaded the often grey atmosphere. Feasting is practically a law, singing can be heard in the streets, and instruments that may stay safely indoors most the year are brought out to encourage dancing and such other frivolities as are rarely seen.

The night of the 14th there are fireworks shows throughout the city, with the most impressive display being launched from the remains of Buckingham Palace.

Warnings: Festivities!

Date your threads as you will, and feel free to use this as a Valentine's exploration as well for those more inclined to appreciate a holiday from home amidst the celebrations of a whole different sort of world!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

That certainly makes her deflate a bit. "Yeah. That's possible." And she knows full well what it was like to be desperately fighting for your home, needing help or a break to change things to your favour. "Sometimes I just wish everything was as black as white as it seemed when we were kids. All the bad guys had big hats and curly moustaches and you know they were up to something because they had a damsel in distress and some rope and were headed for a railway line."

Leaning against the wall and taking a bite from the Mysterious Food, she takes a while slowly chewing it before she speaks. "What do you think? I half want to just dive in and do something just to keep from feeling bored and restless, and that half of me is talking up how getting involved would get us more info, but the cautious half isn't so sure." Ellie tosses Steph a bit of a grin. "The cautious half doesn't mind being bored. Both halves are stubborn as a mule."

Another bite of the fried deliciousness, and she nods, as if very carefully thinking that over. "I should broaden my repertoire. This... thing is pretty good. It's hard to glare with hot food in your belly."

Steph huffs out a laugh, a little rueful, but there's some genuine amusement at the comment, particularly when she thinks about the world she comes from. It hadn't take her long to figure out that not everyone came from worlds with heroes and villains who could be so easily marked out by their bright costumes.

She leans her shoulder against the wall, facing Ellie, taking a bite of her own Thing On A Stick as Ellie talks, and swallowing before she answers.

"I think things have never been black and white. I mean - even when I was little, I knew criminals were supposed to be the bad guys, cops the good guys, but when the cops are the one roughing up your parents, threatening your mom because she's an accessory, it's hard to remember who the good guys are," She sighs, looking up briefly, as if there might be answers in the sky.

"I just want to help people," Her voice is quiet, and there's almost painful honesty in there, maybe a little desperation; ever since she got past her desire for revenge, all she's ever wanted was to help, "But sometimes that's not enough. Sometimes that makes things worse."

Sometimes it gets hundreds of people killed in a gang war, and she rubs her shoulder absently, where the shard of glass and then the bullet went in, as she thinks of that. She can only manage a small smile for the comment about hot food.

Edited 2013-02-17 11:08 (UTC)

She doesn't know how to reply to the thing about the cops, past a mumbled apology. She liked to think that some good guys were still the good guys, but she'd learned better. Expressing a desire to knock those dickheads down a few pegs wasn't all that likely to help, either.

"I know." God, she knew. It was impossible to keep a tally any more. "Sometimes it's like you can't move in case someone dies as a result. Sitting and breathing are the only safe options, and even then." Not one of them had made it through without marks on them, and even when you were protecting your country, your friends, the cost might be bludgeoning someone with a heart and their own warmth, family and people who love them, no happy how fucking awful they are or what they do is. Hot blood and cold blood could be dangerous in different ways.

"We gotta keep going, but. Getting stagnant and counting your losses never helps. You remember them, but you can never rely on other people to do what's right. Even if we fuck up, at least we try with everything we got, and we make decisions based on all the shitty things we've seen and the lessons we've learned. Maybe we fuck up really bad sometimes, but at least we tried and we did something. If you screw up, you pick yourself up and you don't make the same mistake again. And whether you do things in one fell swoop or you just slowly work at it, then I mean-- it's like that butterfly tsunami thing. We might be small, but we can initiate something big and spectacular."

Christ. She'd gone and done another speech, hadn't she? With a sheepish smile she bumps Steph's shoulder with her own. "Preferably not an actual tsunami. That might be enough to get me to stop doing speeches, but."

Edited 2013-02-17 11:26 (UTC)

Speeches are good, especially when they're talking about something she can understand. Steph clearly listens to everything Ellie has to say, nodding a little, and then taking another bite as she mulls it over, rather than just replying with what first comes to mind.

It's good to think about this stuff, to question themselves and what they're doing, even if it can hurt a little. And it's good to be honest, she's kept almost everything to herself since landing in this city, and it's a relief to be able to talk honestly with someone, even if Steph is still keeping a secret or two.

"They built a monument to the people I got killed by making the wrong decision," It's another quiet admission, this one edged with pain, and she's sharing because she needs Ellie to know that she understands, that she might not be from a war, but she still knows that none of these decisions are easy.

She memorized every name on that damn thing, standing there until they were burned into her memory. It never came down to what happened to her, it was what happened to everyone else her decisions affected.

"But you're right," About everything, and the way she looks at Ellie is almost grateful, glad that someone else has put into words how she feels, "I've made my whole life out of fucking up and learning not to do it a second time. I can't just sit still, not at home, and not here. But at the same time... I don't want to make a move until I know it's the best one available."

A memorial seems like a pretty big thing for someone who works at a clinic to cause, but she locks that down for now. The questions can wait, at least for a moment, because there are better things to say. More important things, not least because Steph has earned the right to be relieved the immediate interrogation.

Ellie sighs, rolling her shoulders a bit before settling back against the wall. "Corrie, my best mate. I don't think there was ever a time in our lives that we didn't have each other. We did everything together. We played with dolls and then we gossiped about boys, and it's all her fault that I ever realised leeches were disgusting, because before she pointed it out I didn't care." Ugh, leeches. It's written all over her expression, even now.

"So after we got invaded, they were using the area we lived in - Cobbler's Bay, through Stratton and into Wirrawee as a channel into the rest of the country. We figured we should make things a bit difficult for them, try and fight for our country and all that. All that romantic stuff, even though we already knew how dangerous it was. One of us was already shot, our parents were penned in like livestock." Taking a moment to gnaw at her lip, it's mindblowing to think about it now. How they got to that decision, and how many risks they just kept taking since then. Maybe they'd never actually learned from their fuck ups, because they just kept going like dogs at a bone. "We blew up the bridge. That went just the way you'd want it to."
The next part was the hard part. It was the part she never got used to saying. "Corrie got shot. Kev took her to the hospital, but, um. They weren't too hot on treating an Australian with a gunshot wound after a big attack like that." Kevin got beaten and interrogated within an inch of his life, but this wasn't about Kevin, and she was still pissed enough at him after his meltdown at the airfield that his name was mud. "Now, you can look at it a few ways. I know blowing up that bridge was never worth Corrie's life, and I know none of us would've done it if we'd known the costs. But if we hadn't-- if we hadn't, things would be even worse than they are. And Corrie, she was going to do things. She was probably one of the least selfish out of all of us, even before the war, and I don't think she'd have been able to live with not fighting."

Her voice fades to silence, before she realises that the Fried Thing on a Stick is now Torn Up and Shredded Former Snack on a Stick. With a bit of a sigh she drops it on the ground and wipes her hands on her jeans. "We don't have a memorial for the people we've killed. Homer started doing a tally on a tree once of the soldiers, but it didn't last long." She nearly murdered him, and that seemed compelling enough to make him stop. "I think there was something I was trying to say with this, and I don't even know what that was any more, but good people are going to die whether we do stuff or we don't. Corrie could have gotten shot on a run to get supplies, being peaceful, or trying to get in touch with her parents, but she got shot trying to do something important."

She'd been just kind of blankly staring at some distant point, but now she actually looks at Steph. "Sometimes we don't have the luxury of waiting. We can buy ourselves more time, get ourselves in a better position, but reconnaissance and setting even the smallest plans in action are better than just hoping the answer will appear."

Steph doesn't spend a lot of time around talkative people; Tim and Babs are careful with their words, Cass couldn't really communicate verbally for a long time, and Bruce is - Bruce. Kara talks about as much as Steph does, but she's still not really used to getting a lot of words at once.

Still, she can tell they're important, so she forces herself to be patient and just listen, gradually finishing off her snack simply because it gives her something to do rather than just watching Ellie talk. She doesn't miss the way Ellie's hands are moving, the way she tears up the food, but she doesn't comment on that, simply dropping her own empty stick to match.

That's a lot to take in, and she gives it the consideration it deserves, her expression sympthathetic as she puts a hand on Ellie's arm, a small gesture of comfort that doesn't feel like nearly enough. It's a war, where Ellie comes from, but it still breaks Steph's heart a little, to hear that she's lost at least two friends, if not more. She's never really lost anyone she cared about, it was her that went and died on everyone, even if she wasn't really dead. There aren't many people that she loves, but she can't imagine what she'd do if she lost Cass, or Tim, or her mom. In the face of what Ellie's lost, not just her friends but her home, her safety, Steph doesn't know what to say.

"Can I trust you?" She meets, and holds Ellie's gaze, the question coming with the realization that after all that's been said, everything that Ellie's told her, Steph does want to do something. And she wants the girl in front of her to be an ally, but that means opening up about certain secrets.

It might be a bad decision, when she's only known Ellie for a couple of weeks, but when she's been stealing Steph's bed more nights than not, when she's the first person Steph's felt she can be genuinely honest arond, who seems to understand this whole situation better than most people she talks to...

It's a decision to make, just like everything else they've talked about, and she hopes it'll be the right one.

Edited 2013-02-17 12:16 (UTC)

Her smile at the contact at her arm is fractional. That makes it no less present, her hand resting on top of Steph's. Contact is real, solid. More importantly than that, it's warm. Steph is alive, present, real, so is Ellie. Sometimes that has to be enough.

The question is not one she was immediately expecting. It's almost strange, because she'd already counted Steph in the sphere of people she could trust. So far as the sphere of trustability in Exsilium went, Steph was just about the only one. It makes her eyebrows scoot up a little, curious. "I trust you." Maybe that's the only way to say it: Ellie isn't about to betray confidences or burn bridges. Not here, not when she's already been taken from home.

"But, uh. Can I ask you a question? Something's been nagging at my mind, a bit."

She's just grateful Ellie even accepts the contanct, she's known too many people who turn it away out of pride.

The fact that Ellie trusts her makes something in Steph's chest ache, and she squeezes the other girl's arm briefly before letting go. People don't trust her, not really, because they think she's too reckless, that she's only a vigilante for the thrill, that she's not smart enough or good enough to keep up with the other Bats. To have someone just say they trust her, is a strange thing.

"Thank you," Maybe that's not the right thing to say, but it's what she's got, and maybe there's an unspoken I trust you, too in there for Ellie to pick up, "And of course you can."

It's not promising an answer, but she'll try.

Ellie's proud. Ellie's a bloody minded, stubborn, arrogant, "keeps charging into trouble when she knows it's there because to do anything else would betray her pride" type idiot. However, she is also an idiot who is surrounded by other traumatised teenagers and who relies on Fi as a source of comfort and calm. Going without much physical contact has been hideous. Her pride can bugger right off.

And perhaps sadly, Ellie would find that totally alien. Steph isn't like Kevin, who can't be relied on for anything. She doesn't seem as flimsy as Fi, who she never fails to underestimate even though Fiona Maxwell has proved herself a thousand times over, and then a few hundred more after that. She just sees herself as the one people rely on too much, and resents them for it, even as she refuses to trust them to get the job done.

"Okay."

Deep breath. Exhale. "What exactly does a clinic worker do to wind up needing a memorial?" Obviously Steph has weapons, but that hardly seem like explanation enough. Her dad, maybe? Ellie just can't work it out. "I mean, you're not in a war."

That's not entirely unexpected, and Steph nods, like it's a reasonable thing to ask, but she doesn't answer straight away. Instead, she scrubs a hand over her face, trying to work out the best way to explain everything that happened. She's talked about it to a therapist, to Leslie, but she's never actually explained it to someone she considers a friend (her friends at home already knew), and there's a part of her that's scared of what Ellie might say.

"I wanted to prove myself to someone," She looks at Ellie, expression wry and sad, "It sounds so stupid, but I wanted to prove myself, so I tried to do what I thought was right, working with incomplete information because someone I trusted had kept things from me, and I ended up starting a gang war instead."

A shrug as she swallows around the lump in her throat, "And I'm talking like, every gang in the city, fighting each other and the cops and killing whatever civilians got in the way. After I realized what I'd done, I tried to fix it, tried to make it better, but I ended up--" She stops, looking down at her hands with the knowledge that she can't say what came next, not for herself, so she skips over that part, "Over two hundred people died, cops, civilians, the people from the gangs. They built a memorial to it, to remember the dead, and no one even knew what I'd done."

The Bats had known, but the general public just thought it was a terrible twist of fate, or that something within the gangs must've caused it. They didn't know it was just a single girl who'd made a mistake because she hadn't been told a simple piece of information.

There's not much you can say to that. Not even if you're Ellie "loves the sound of my own voice" Linton, especially not when you try to wrap your head around the figures, when you're trying to reconcile something massive and tragic to some girl who's helped you when she didn't have to and who made more sense than most other outsiders ever could.

"You made a really shit call, basically." But here's the thing; she scoots around to face Steph better, tilting her head to try and catch her gaze, fingers wrapping around one of the other girl's wrists. "Hey. You were working with the information you had. And yeah, you made a bad call and you wanted to prove yourself, but I'd be lying if every single time we went out to do something, there wasn't a part of me that wasn't thrill seeking and running that adrenalin rushing through me, and wanting to make ourselves important. We wanted to help our country of course, but sometimes we just wanted to stop being bored, and people have died because of that."

So part of her thinks Steph is an idiot, and yet if Ellie is anything, it's honest. Blunt-force Ellie, really. "So you wanted to show off and you get a hell of a consequence that most other people'll never have to deal with. But you didn't go out there to kill them, and you thought you were doing the right thing, and someone you trusted let you done."

Her smile is small, but it's there, and it's genuine. "You're not the only one who fucked up. It's not all on you. They did it, too. The person who lied to you," because that's how Ellie saw concealing the truth, at the end of the day, "and the people who went out with weapons. They did it, not you."

Honest, blunt, and maybe just a tiny bit loyal. Just a smidgen.

"Basically," There's something fragile in the agreement, like she's about to break, but she lets Ellie touch her, even looks up a little to meet her gaze when she realizes that's what she's going for.

You made a shit call is the simplest it's ever been put, but everything else that Eliie tells her is almost reassuring. Leslie told her that it wasn't her fault, that it was Bruce's, but Leslie was biased, she'd wanted to hurt Bruce and she'd used Steph to do it. She might care about Leslie, but she'd never really trust her, not after everything she'd done.

To hear someone say it wasn't just her fault, when they couldn't care less about Bruce fucking Wayne or the goddamn Batman, isn't something she's used to, and it eases some of the pain in her chest.

"Sorry," She's not quite sure what it's for, maybe just for being such a fucking mess when she was trying to get Ellie out for a chance to relax, "I've never told anyone that before. I mean-- the people who were there, they knew. And sometimes other people got told, but I've never actually had to... tell someone who'd never heard before."

At least Leslie had filled all the other doctors in on what happened, including the therapist she'd made Steph talk to. Steph had still explained what happened, but she wasn't starting from scratch, not like she is with Ellie. It's a little scary, but it's also the first time she's had total control over what people know about it, and there's something good in that.

"So, um, thank you. For not - I dunno," For not judging or calling her a horrible person, "For being honest."

That'll do.

That's a revelation. The whole thing was, of course it was, but being the first person told like this. It made sense for something huge like that, and these circumstances. She doesn't comment, just keeps watching Steph for a while, head tilted as she mulls it all over. Finally, she taps Steph's forehead, if she lets her, and then her collarbone. "Your head and your heart do all kinds messed up stuff. Don't let 'em jerk you around too much."

Not that Ellie was much for taking her own advice. She still got too caught up in everything. Trying to unentangle it all was a disaster that only got worse when she tried to articulate it. Not holding back, that was her problem. Maybe Steph had the opposite, kind of. Bottling things up until she was about to explode.

"Christ, don't thank me." It makes her feel awkward, ducking her head a bit and scratching the back of her neck. "I just think people have their own agency, that's all, and stories are complicated."

Steph lets her, which says a lot about how much she does trust Ellie, because she really isn;t one to let other people control physical contact. She even manages a smile, a sad little one, but at least it's there, and at least she doesn't look like she's about to burst into tears.

"I think it was more my heart in that case, but I'll try not to," She forces herself to breath steadily, a simple meditative technique that's keeping her from freaking out too much about dragging up all those memories. It feels weird to be having such an intense conversation in public, but everyone's too focused on the festival to notice two teenage girls tucked against a wall.

"No, I wanna thank you. I needed to hear that," She's needed to hear it for years, because she still has a hard time that remembering it wasn't entirely her fault, "Ellie-" A pause, as she works out how to say this next part, "This is gonna sound weird, but you have comic books in your world, right? Superheroes and shit?"

She already wanted to be honest, to count Elie as a real ally and after sharing all this, Steph knows she has to tell her.

"I'm too much in my head, I hear. We can just smack each other with a rolled up newspaper if we notice things getting out of hand. Deal?" Ellie can feel herself giving Steph a bit of a grin in response. Not one of her sharp, feral smiles, which make all-too-frequent appearances, but more reassuring.

She's still sitting opposite Steph, as if somehow she could be a barrier between this new fragility and the hustle and bustle of everything going on. So many people are too loud and too messy, and she'd forgotten how easy it could be to just be lost and blend into a crowd unnoticed. They were doing a good job of not attracting attention, right now.

"Mm?" The next question earns a surprised laugh. "Uh. Yeah. Saving the day, zooming around and stuff. Why, you think that's who we need to sort out this Initiative mess?" She glances down at herself. "I don't think I could do lycra."

"I think I'd like that," Her smile warms up a bit in response to Ellie's, it's nice to see her smile a little more gentle than the sharp ones she's already getting used to, "You've got yourself a deal."

It's a little like her and Tim; he always overthought things and she always threw herself in without a second thought. It was part of why they worked so well as a team, the way they balanced and tempered each other's faults. She wouldn't mind working like that with someone here.

This bit is harder, and her expression shifts, a little hesitant at how Ellie's going to take it, "It's, um, kevlar, usually. Kevlar and nomex, and only a little bit of spandex so we can still move," It all comes out a bit quickly, her tone forced to be casual, but she looks at Ellie with an apologetic, slightly wry smile, "I'm a vigilante. Have been since I was fifteen."

After a half-second of consideration, Ellie starts with an extremely eloquent, "Huh?" A bit louder that she'd intended, the sound rapidly swallowed up by the crowd, even if she nervously glanced around before locking her focus back on Steph.

In her second attempt, which is no less incredulous, her volume is rather more controlled. "You're a super hero?"

Super heroes get costumes. Vigilantes and guerillas are different. They're definitely different. "Isn't that a bit young?" Oh, God. She's turned into her mum. Ellie's trying, she really is, for the very life of her, to say something. Anything, anything remotely smart. She just looks baffled. "Is that why you have nunchuks?"

Steph glances at the crowd as well, though she manages to do it a little more subtely than Ellie.

"Vigilante," There's a difference for Steph, too, "Superheroes have powers or have been in the business long enough to be important, I just try to do what I can, and that - involves a codename and a uniform." Not a costume, costumes are for Superman, with his bright spandex, her Batgirl suit is a uniform, it's armour and protection and a symbol that's meant to be hidden in the dark.

"I wasn't the youngest," There's something like disapproval in her tone; Damian is only ten, and she knows that he started training much, much younger than that, "But yeah, that's kind of why I have nunchuks."

This... hasn't gone terribly, so she's going to remain positive for the moment, and glad for the distraction from her thoughts of the gang war.

Her mouth works silently for a few moments, not entirely dissimilar to a fish out of water, but with a lot less distressed flailing and thrashing. Eventually she just closes her mouth and lets the silence just sit there for a bit. It's sort of weird to digest, and yet there are far, far stranger things she'd heard here. People being revived from death and people with hooves, for example.

"Okay." She had briefly considered telling Steph in no uncertain terms that if this was a prank then she'd wring her neck, but doing something like that after the turn their conversation had taken would just be obscene. Maybe she hasn't known Steph that long, but she trusts her not to do that, interrupt some hallowed space in conversation for the sake of a prank. That was Homer's style. "Okay, right. So sort of like what we were doing, but with a uniform and not in a war." It sounds weird, but at least it's vaguely familiar.

"Protecting the streets of Jersey from evil-doers, and stuff?"

The fact that Ellie needes some time to think it over isn't all that surprising, and Steph gives it to her, her gaze switching between watching Ellie's expressions and checking out the crowd around them.

"Sort of, I guess," She can understand the comparison, a lot of what they do is similar to guerilla warfare, and it's certainly not approved of by the people in charge, although some places are more leniant than others, "Gotham, if you wanna get specific, we've mostly got your psychopaths and themed serial killers, rather than like, magic creatures or aliens who wanna take over the world, so must of us vigilantes back there are just baseline humans with a hell of a lot of training."

It's not the worst summary she could give.

At least there's a basis for comparison, something she can use as a framework. It sounds really interesting, in a way. Makes Steph tearing herself up over that gang war have a lot more sense to it, as well. And part of her is just clinging to the normal aspects to it, because she can deal with the existence of super powers and all that stuff later.

"Sounds like your lot would have a much better idea of what you were doing." She admits that with a wrinkled nose. "We're good, but training? We wish." Homer probably wouldn't wish, strictly speaking. He wouldn't want someone else to be able to take the credit, she figured.

"Okay. All right." If she kept saying that, she might find her mind settling into it a bit better. "So... what's your code name?"

"Maybe, but there's more than one way to win a battle," She'd rather her people here, instead of Ellie. Not because she thinks Ellie can't handle it, but because even after going through a war, she's still technically a civilian who shouldn't have to deal with this shit. Bats are trained for it.

She's relieved Ellie is taking this so well, it's not often that Steph tells people she's a vigilante, usually it happens the other way around, by telling another vigilante her real identity. It was a risk, but so far it's paid off, and she thinks - hopes - she can trust Ellie to keep this secret.

"Um," There's a lot still on her mind, but she manages to look almost... shy, for a second there, "Spoiler, then Robin, now Batgirl," A beat, as she looks at Ellie, then, "You're not allowed to laugh."

It's different when she's in her suit, because even if the Bat ears and the bright yellow symbol is a bit silly, it's still obvious how well made, how reinforced that black and purple uniform is, which lends some credibility to the name.

Right now she just feels like a bit of a dork.

"Bat... Girl." Hmm. "Do you fight evil by eating fruit and spreading disease?"

She manages to say it with a completely straight face. No laughter here, no way Jose. "Or do you kind of run around yelling and navigating when the vibrations bounce back at you?"

What a jerk. Nose wrinkled, she bumps Steph affectionately. "Why all the changes?"

"Funny," She's not quite pouting, but it's close, "Though I do think I could probably work echolocation into my suit."

She's been thinking about it since meeting Collette, and it seems like a good idea if she can fine tune how to develop functions into her suit. She's got a small radar built into her handheld computer, but it's not very accurate.

"Bats are nocturnal and kind of scary, that's why we go with the theme," It sounds so terrible when she puts it like that. She just wants Bruce here so he can scare everyone.

But she's not taking it too hard, and she Ellie gets another smile for the affectionate bump, "I started as Spoiler, the name and uniform was original, all mine. Robin's a legacy role, which I worked in for a while until I got fired, and that's - why I wanted to prove myself," And why the gang war happened, her expression twists a little before she continues, "I went back to Spoiler for a while, then my best friend, the previous Batgirl, decided to take a break from the vigilante gig, so she handed the mantle on to me. It's... a work in progress."

Sometimes she still isn't sure if she's good enough to live up to Batgirl.

"If you use it to sneak up on me in the dark, I might shoot you." She says it off the cuff, the kind of humour that fails and withers away. Not like when she says something shit to Kevin and act like everyone hates him, that they are in on the joke (the joke is Kevin's existence). It's one of those things she tries to be casual about and still can't really manage... And yet, sadly, it's the truth. She doesn't take surprises all that well, any more.

"Flying foxes aren't that scary, they just get their names cursed when they eat someone's prize winning veggie patch. Mrs.Bradshaw chucked the biggest hissy I ever saw when they got her persimmons." Letting the teasing go, her expression sobers again. "There's a lot of unfair old wives tales about bats. I reckon they're pretty okay."

Dissatisfied with Steph's answer, or maybe just what she feels are the implications, she huffs irritably. "They fired you fr risking your life to help people and then there's other people that lie to you." She lets that just sink in for a few minutes. "They sound like a bunch of dickheads, these other vigilantes or whatever they are."

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WHAT HAPPENED TO OUR SILLY VALENTINE'S DAY ADVENTURES LMAO

I DON'T KNOW EVERYTHING I PLAN LITERALLY GOES THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION

MAYBE IF WE PLAN TO ALWAYS MAKE THEM MISERABLE

NOTHING COULD GO WRONG WITH THAT

PERFECT PLAN TBH

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