life_inshadow (
life_inshadow) wrote2011-01-16 09:08 am
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Room 223, Sunday Morning
Tara couldn't remember when or how, but she must have fallen asleep at some point after she got back to the dorms. She woke up in a sticky ball on top of her covers, still dressed in the clothes she'd yanked on Thursday night.
She felt filthy, as if she were covered in Raven's blood and -- more. She felt as if her mind was no longer her own, and never would be again.
The first order of business was a long, hot shower that didn't seem to do much beyond removing some obvious grime from her skin. She dressed quickly, and put her hair back.
More grateful than usual for her lack of a roommate, Tara then laid a double line of salt at her doorstep and, after a quick chant to Astraea for her own purity, started methodically going through her spellbooks. She'd never taken special precautions against possession in the past, but there had to be a way to ensure no one would ever use her that way again.
The way she'd been used was bad enough already.
[OOC: Closed door, open post. Player will be on and off today.]
She felt filthy, as if she were covered in Raven's blood and -- more. She felt as if her mind was no longer her own, and never would be again.
The first order of business was a long, hot shower that didn't seem to do much beyond removing some obvious grime from her skin. She dressed quickly, and put her hair back.
More grateful than usual for her lack of a roommate, Tara then laid a double line of salt at her doorstep and, after a quick chant to Astraea for her own purity, started methodically going through her spellbooks. She'd never taken special precautions against possession in the past, but there had to be a way to ensure no one would ever use her that way again.
The way she'd been used was bad enough already.
[OOC: Closed door, open post. Player will be on and off today.]
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"You, um, kind of just took off last night." Kennedy started looking around for a place to set the food down-- she suspected neither of them was going to make much of a dent in it-- and took note of the spellbooks.
"Big magic research day again, huh?"
She... sounded a little cautious about that too, yes.
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Oh, god, the stutter was at its worst. Tara kept clearing far longer than she needed to, as if squaring the edges of her books would make everything all right. She knew she could say more, that she should explain the books, explain her horror at the idea something else had used her body. But the words stayed stuck in her throat.
"I guess it's a research day."
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She set the food down on the desk and went over to sit down on the edge of Tara's bed, but paused to look curiously at her before she actually sat.
"Researching anything in particular, or just a general study thing? I mean, is that really a great idea right now?"
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She tilted her head, curious but still not meeting Kennedy's eyes. "If it bothers you I can -- I can do something else."
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"It's just, well, you were kind of hitting the mojo super-hard there. The seance, um... kind of freaked me out." She clasped her hands in her lap and stared down at them, bouncing one knee in restless agitation.
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Too weak, too bad, too something, to be overwhelmed so easily by a little jewelry.
"I should have made Karla do it."
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She dug a hand into her hair in frustration; it wasn't like she knew how to explain the vagaries of magic, and trying to find the right words for something had never been one of her strengths.
"Babe, for a second there, your eyes went black."
Kennedy still wasn't sure what exactly that entailed, but putting it together with everything that had happened afterward, she didn't think it was good.
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Black eyes were bad. Black eyes meant ... she'd explain it for Kennedy's sake, though she had to say it softly.
"It means I wasn't in charge," she explained. "I mean, I know that was, um, obvious. But black eyes mean -- the magic is driving."
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She shook her head, trying to push past that to find something resembling a bright side.
"But that's kind of, um. It means it's not your fault, right?"
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She wasn't scared away from magic by the news. Rather, in fact, the opposite.
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"I'm not actually against that idea," she admitted. "Not exactly jumping for joy about someone using you to make us do all of that."
If she sounded a little bit more frustrated about this, well, feeling like there wasn't anything she could have done to prevent it didn't help.
"I should have known something was up. I knew you weren't acting like yourself, and..." She punched the mattress halfheartedly.
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Unhappily, she added, "At least we made it back alive." Unlike Raven. That made her feel like punching things.
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They'd never lost before. She'd been starting to think it was impossible.
And that wasn't something she wanted to say, so...
"Is there anything I can do?"
Focusing on what other people needed. That she could do; that it was the sort of thing Raven would do, too, didn't escape her. Ouch.
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Instead, she blurted, "I -- haven't cried yet, unless I did when I was asleep. Have you?"
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That had Kennedy starting across the room toward her, reaching out, and then pulling to a halt just in front of Tara with that same stupid irritating indecisiveness that felt like some bizarre role she had to play, and wasn't playing very well.
"When have you ever seen me do that?" she asked in a strangled voice that came close to breaking. "If you need to... I'm here. I'm not--"
She swallowed, and her throat was tight. Tighter than she liked to admit.
"Not going anywhere, if you need me."
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She groped for Kennedy's waist, trying to draw her closer. "I'm not leaving either. I just ... couldn't do anything, last night. I'm s-sorry."
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"What were any of us gonna do?" And yes, she was actually crying now; it was unfamiliar, but it felt oddly... she wouldn't call it good. Just a relief. "God, Tara, she's-- we couldn't stop it. Should've been able to save her, and..."
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"God, Raven," she muttered out of habit, affectionate and exasperated and miserable all at once, then choked out a tiny, half-hysterical laugh and buried her face in Tara's hair again. If she hadn't been hanging on so tightly, the drain of letting out everything she'd been bottling up might've just sent her toppling over onto the floor.
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A certain librarian would argue with that strenuously, but Henry, mercifully, did not hang out in student's bedrooms.
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She stopped there, paralyzed by the what ifs.
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Great. She'd thought she was done crying.
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She drew a jagged breath. "She couldn't hurt me. I could have done something to save her, if, if I'd just broke through that tiny little bit, and I couldn't."
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For the first time since they'd gotten back, she really looked at Tara, trying to get it into her head that this wasn't the being who'd possessed her any more, just her girl again. There were too many more images she couldn't shake: Sookie's unhinged fae rage, Karla and her whips of Sapphire energy, Jono letting loose with a wall of flame, the look on Emma's face, Raven's broken body... She needed something to displace a little of that horror, and this was her best bet.
"We all let her down," she murmured, finally. "But she tried to get us to kill you, too. I couldn't do that."
The rationalization wasn't nearly as comforting as she'd hoped.
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And then Tara was ready to cry again.
[OOC: Scene/seen confusion is special.]
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Damned if she was going to sit here and let Tara cry without at least offering a shoulder to cry on, right?
[[i like special. :D]]
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She didn't feel good. She felt guilty and weak and sad. But knowing Kennedy wasn't angry with her made everything else a little easier.
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She shook her head. "I missed you, though."
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And if she had to figure out a way to physically kick the ass of anything that tried to possess Tara again, she'd probably try to do it.