Who: Kendra and OPEN What: Arrival to LA Where: Alley-way, then the streets. When: This evening, about 10:30 PM Rating: TBD Status: In Progress/Open
The voice had been cold like a knife, sharp ice water that stabbed through her insides, even as her mind initially felt as if she'd surrounded in warmth. Heading into the fire. Like a moth to a flame. However, the way she had been unable to move, unable to process, unable to think ... it'd felt as if she'd been tied up in chains hundreds times over before being thrown in feet first in what she imagined the Artic water would feel like. She'd been drowning, she was sure of it. Because now she was gasping out for breath, hand against the brick wall. She'd arrived, and there had been a lack of pressure as if a hand had yanked her out. It had taken a moment but the second she was free, her knees had almost buckled from the shock of it.
It'd taken Kendra a very long moment to regain her composure. Longer than she would have ever liked to admit. She'd very nearly failed. She didn't know why she hadn't and she didn't know why she'd come so close to it being so. She'd trained. She'd trained long and hard for every situation. Except for one like that one. There wasn't much of a way to train for one like that. Mr. Zabuto hadn't even considered trying to put her under a vampire's thrall to see if she could get out. Not an option. However, she'd trained, she'd trained long and hard to never fall into a situation like the one she'd just been caught in. She shouldn't have fallen into it and she should have been strong enough to resist it. However, she had and she hadn't and she was practically shaking from it.
Nonetheless, despite the shame that wanted to make her heart-sick, Kendra managed to pull out from herself and take a proper look around her. She'd learned from a young age to divorce herself from her emotions. That included the drastic of being there and not, the anxiety, the self-anger, and the need to curl up into herself. All of that? Was gone. Nothing. Pushed down and aside. And all that was left was the Slayer that Mr. Zabuto had trained.