Jun. 11th, 2017

theycalledmeacurse: (alone)
[personal profile] theycalledmeacurse
Keep your head down. Blend in. Don't draw attention. Don't let anyone find out what you are. Those are the tenants she'd lived by in the weeks since being dropped into this universe, and she did her best to follow her own damn advice. But try as she might, accidents happen, they always do.

There were little incidents here and there, brushes of bare skin with people on the street, a nudge from a coworker at the bar. The brief touches left people disoriented and nothing more. But when a drunk customer grabbed her, expecting more than she would ever be willing to give? There was no easy way to explain why the man ended up unconscious.

So she ran. There was no point in staying in NYC, it was too crowded and there were too many memories of a world that didn't exist anymore. She made her way to the train station and picked a destination at random - somewhere cold, to help explain all the layers. Somewhere quiet, so maybe she could find her way again.

Somewhere that could possibly feel like home one day? Doubtful.
theycalledmeacurse: (concentrating)
[personal profile] theycalledmeacurse
[ Eight months in this world and she's still trying to adjust. Still trying to come to terms with the fact that she's all alone here, that when she helped save her world and stop an apocalyptic war from ever starting, she didn't get the reprieve of starting over the way everyone else had. No, she'd been picked up and dropped into this world that is like her own but so completely different. No mutants, no X-Men, no one who remembers the war that haunts her every moment of every day.

SHIELD picked her up shortly after her arrival, the portal not exactly unnoticeable to people who knew what to look for. They offered her help, a job, and she'd taken them up on one but not the other. She was still being watched by the organization, by a specific set of folks there, and she wasn't entirely sure how to feel about that -- but the help they'd given her was appreciated nonetheless. (Not that she didn't wonder if they might want something later in return for that help.)

A made-up history and the credentials to back it up were the most useful part of the package. With them, she was able to find a job, rent an apartment, start a life... But there was help she needed that they couldn't give her. That fake history included a brief military career so she could have access to VA services - fighting in a war that didn't exist here didn't exactly get her through the door. But with that record she could walk through the door and take a seat among others who had been through similar experiences, who are still haunted by their memories. The only difference is that she has to be vague in any responses she gives, as few and far between as they are, but still. Even listening helps her to feel like she's not so alone, if only for a little while. ]
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