First New Story | Video

[hellofist]

[She knows that it's a cruel trick to do this now, in the middle of the night in the middle of a flood where people may or may not have their original memories. Everyone is too busy dealing with their own things, and so that's why she does this now.

It's underhanded, but it's happening. She's broadcasting from inside her room, a cramped, run down little thing with cracked plaster and a beaten up dresser and a bed and nothing else. She sits on the bed, cup of tea balanced in her lap, and tries not to think about what she's saying as she says it.]

Figured, should... do this, officially. My name is Cassandra Cain. I was here, before. As a warden.

[Still hurts to admit that, but she charges on through as best she can.]

I'm not anymore. Don't remember everything, just that... I was here. Some things came back, memories of... some people. Some places. Mostly, it's new.

That's all. [Except maybe she'll inject something in there to make it seem like she's trying.] Good luck, with new bodies. Shouldn't last long, don't worry.

Comments

[exnihilo]

I don't remember a lot of things either.

From home, not here, but. It's lousy.

[There's a looseness to her, an honesty that comes not of being a forthright person, but from having so little sense of self that she mostly says whatever comes to her in the moment; what comes in this moment is a lurching attempt at sympathy, something like commiseration.]

I'm Mira.

[hellofist]

[That's... actually very comforting, in a way. She'd rather have sympathy that comes without strings attached than pity for things she's lost that she doesn't particularly want back in the first place.

Mira is not a familiar name and doesn't have a familiar face and that is also an admittedly nice change.]

Something to it, though. Means fresh starts.

[exnihilo]

I'm still figuring out if it's worth it.

Even if it was terrible, it was mine.

But once I was somebody who let herself forget almost everything, and she was - happy.

[She was more herself with every person she pretended to be than Mira thinks she's ever been. Of course, the real Mira didn't choose to forget.]

[hellofist]

[Cass can't help but ask the obvious question.]

Are you happy now?

[indispensible]

Vin. [All there is by way of an introduction until, as an afterthought but an important one:] Venture

What happened to your room? [And in this there's blunt, clumsy, honest concern, wielded like a tool she doesn't have much experience using.]

[hellofist]

[That actually catches her a little off guard. She turns to look around, sees nothing out of the ordinary, and then frowns at Vin.]

Nothing. This is... what it is.

[indispensible]

It looks broken.

[Like the house she stayed in with Camon, the hideaway. It doesn't look safe.]

[nightmaring]

You took your time.

[He has a trillion conflicting feelings, but most of them boil down to missing her. That's not fair: he shouldn't miss someone that Merlin had. He should never have cared. It wasn't fair that she cared so much.

He's angry, annoyed, but he's glad, too, and despite himself, that keeps winning out.]

[hellofist]

Didn't wait that long.

[Depending on your definition. Weeks is probably too long, but it's fine in Cass' opinion. Most of the people she remembers as being important know, she was fine with being under the radar for as long as possible.

Morgana as a boy is the more interesting thing here, so she'll focus on that. The first order of business is finding out if there are any memories of being a woman.]

How do you feel?

[nightmaring]

[He waves a hand dismissively: as far as he's concerned, he's unaffected except for the room switch up. Well - maybe he is affected. But he's now about to let the Admiral mess with his own internal logic. Again.

He's a man. He's always been a man. No one will convince him otherwise, no matter how many gowns fill his wardrobe.]

Waiting for the histrionics to end. At least it quiets down at night.

[Pointed look. She waited for the middle of the night for a reason, didn't she.]

[bodilesswarrior]

Doesn't feel new, for me. [His voice is soft, and his gaze is tender, and if his body shouts father rather than mother, it's not such a big difference.]

...Is your room okay? We can change it, if you want. [Or you could stay with me, he doesn't say.]

[hellofist]

No, it's-

[She stops there, because this is a thing she's never thought of before. As far as she knows, Barbara doesn't know the specifics of what happened to her after she had left Gotham. She was never in contact, still angry, but it wouldn't surprise her if Barbara knew basics. Areas of town she lived in, maybe, but never what the inside of her places looked like.

She needs to think of this and only this because this kind of body language from a man does scream father and it makes her a little uncomfortable. At least when Barbara is mother, there was nothing to compare it to. With Byron as her father, it's too easy to think of Cain and how his body should have looked exactly like this and never did.]

I stayed here, when waiting... for my own cave. It's fine.

[bodilesswarrior]

[It's not, but he won't argue, not yet. He knows Cass can see his concern, and he knows that she needs his respect.

So he only nods.]

...Do you have enough tea?

[imfollowinghim]

How much stuff is coming back? [She's got other things she kinda wants to say too - like that she's sorry she's here as an inmate after being here as a warden, for one, but that doesn't seem like a nice thing to rub in, or bring up - but this is kind of important to her, too. She was here before, and her memories are all shot to hell.]

[hellofist]

Little things. Remembered how... to switch modes, make things private. Where things are, too.

[She's watching so closely, trying to pick up on who this is with just hints. She has a guess, but she doesn't know Bucky too well yet.]

[imfollowinghim]

[If Becky notices she's being scrutinized, she apparently doesn't mind.] I was here about a year ago. I don't remember a lot of it, but stuff like that started to come back pretty quick. A lot of the rest of it's pretty blurry.

[myresponsibility]

Cass? What happened? [Says the unfamiliar gangly teenage girl who's body language says hey I know you.]

[hellofist]

[Well this is interesting. She could answer, but-]

Peter?

[Reconnecting with people she hadn't seen lately had been expected, and she should have figured she'd see people she hadn't yet as a different gender. That doesn't stop this from throwing her off a little.]

[myresponsibility]

Piper? But sure, yeah, I could be Peter. [But uh, so not the important thing here.] I totally want to ask if you're okay, but that's kind of the world's dumbest question right now, right?

[pvtparts]

Seems to be a lot of people are returning not exactly as they used to be.

[Not that it makes that much of a difference to Polly. Warden and inmate are just labels as far as she's concerned and while they have some weight, there's not necessarily a whole lot of meaning to them. Even less for a stranger. Polly will judge someone's character for herself, not by what the Admiral insinuates.]

I'm Sergeant Polly Perks.

[hellofist]

[Words are usually a problem for Cass anyway, but this time the thing that weighs her down and holds her back isn't the comprehension of what the thing she's been labeled as means. This time, the hurt comes from knowing the word and knowing it fits and knowing she deserves the stigma attached to it.]

Who else?

[pvtparts]

[Polly almost asks if it matters, but then thinks on it for a second. It's likely easy to feel alone in that burden, coming back as something that others probably see as less than what they hoped for or expected.]

[So she switches it over to private.]

Are you familiar with Dean Winchester at all?

[strangehistorian]

Welcome back! Would you like to see the newcomer pamphlet?

[She hasn't offered it to anyone since she came back but she figures for an old warden she can make an exception.]

[hellofist]

I... don't know. Is it written?

[strangehistorian]

Ah! Yes it is. I could read it to you, though!