Faye Valentine (poker_alice) wrote in indarkness_logs, @ 2010-10-05 01:47:00 |
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Entry tags: | !dropped, 2032 10, faye valentine, rock lee |
RP: Discovery
Characters: Faye, open
Time/Date: Morning, October 5
Location: Faye's room, Lobby, Roof
Warnings/Rating: Language, some angst, Faye being stressed
Summary: Faye finds a relic from the past and wonders just what its presence might mean.
Status: Player drop/Closed
It was far too early, according to the clock, and Faye was disinterested in this whole concept of being awake. She rolled to the edge of the bed and groped lazily at the bedside table in search of her lighter. An unlit cigarette hung loosely between her lips, and the important life lesson about bedsheets and fire was the furthest thing from her mind. She just needed a smoke and didn't feel like being more than one step away from returning to sleep.
Eventually, her fingers wrapped around a long, thin item which felt close enough to a cigarette lighter. She brought it to her face (though her eyes were closed with drowsiness), running her thumb along the top, but she couldn't find the roller-button. All she felt was the same, slick material that its body was made from... which, of course, meant that something was wrong. Maybe she was holding it ass-end-up?
Faye fumbled with the lighter as she lifted her head to observe the predicament, took a second or two to truly notice what was wrong, then flailed her way onto the floor in panicked realization.
The lighter remained tightly gripped in her hand, though the sheets were half-dragged to the floor with her, nearly mummifying the lower half of her body. She held the item out at arm's length as if it were poisonous, twisted it in her grasp, and shook her head. This was... very much not her lighter. It was the wrong style, the wrong color, yet disturbingly familiar in its own way.
It was almost funny how these things worked. Faye couldn't remember a book she might have read in her youth - a book which very well could have implanted the idea of evil clowns in her mind for the bet with Jaime. She couldn't remember her father's name or her mother's eyes. And if one were to ask if Jayne had any scars, she'd draw a complete blank even though she had rather vivid memories of the night they'd spent together. But one item - one, stupid item which she'd only seen for a minute at most - was etched as a detailed image in her mind... and, apparently, existed as a tangible object within her grasp.
"You saved me," the blonde said, tucking her lighter away in its usual resting place.
Though it wasn't quite a 'thank you,' the meaning was obvious. Neither of the women seemed keen on showing their emotional side, but perhaps doing so would have been out of place, anyway. There were people back there, bleeding and crushed and likely even dead by now all by the grace of a good get-away driver and a vixen who knew her way around a handgun. This was the sort of situation that required subdued pride... or something like that.
"And you saved me back," Faye replied, unable to hide the gratitude in her tone.
She wondered for a moment why this all seemed so peculiar, so... familiar. An old movie, perhaps? No. She doubted that. Maybe it was a side-effect of the strange kinship she felt with the unnamed woman. She knew nothing of her, but it felt as if they could be great allies. Comrades, even. Had she found her niche as this mysterious blonde's backup?
This wasn't just any, gold-colored lighter. It hadn't come from the gas station and it didn't belong in Faye's room. It belonged in another world, tucked away with its owner and everyone else who contributed to Spike's demise. It belonged... far away from him, and - preferably - far away from her, as well. Which, of course, meant that it belonged exactly where it was. The sick and twisted logic of the sadistic bastards (and, perhaps, bitches) in charge of this island demanded as much. If it didn't belong, then it would eventually arrive.
What was next - Julia herself?
Faye heaved a frustrated sigh and flicked the lighter open, staring at it as if she could will flame into appearing without the effort of her thumb. The worst part was that she didn't hate the blonde, the woman whose name alone could send her heart plummeting. In fact, she'd rather liked Julia. Maybe not as much or in the same way as Spike clearly had, but...
She couldn't finish the thought, because it was replaced by a much darker one. If Julia were here, then her lighter wasn't likely to be tossed into Faye's room. So, if something of Julia's was laying around on the island, it wasn't a good sign. At all.
Her eyes narrowed at the object and she flicked her wrist as if to toss it aside, but her fingers forgot to release. Instead, her gaze followed the movement of her own hand, continuing to stare at the lighter. Apparently, its presence was offensive. Intrusive. Inherently evil.
Faye knew that Julia was dead. She knew bits and pieces of the story, knew that she didn't completely believe Spike's tale of not committing suicide-by-proxy in reaction to his pet obsession's murder. But Spike... the one who existed on this island... wasn't likely to know as much. The discussion had never come up, and she couldn't tell his usual "I'm a dead man" banter from potential knowledge of his literal death, but she doubted he knew. The whole thing with Vicious taking over the syndicate was likely before his time.
As far as he knew, Julia could still be alive. He was likely the same man who chased after a drug deal on Callisto all because its code name was the same as that mysterious blonde.
Somehow, though she'd spent over a week attempting to ignore the jerk, her heart ached for him now. She didn't quite understand why Julia's lighter hadn't been placed within Spike's room, but she worried about what it might mean. It probably didn't mean that Julia was on the island. So what, then? Was it a hint of things to come? Was it a sign that they'd be going after Spike with whatever means necessary to break him?
Or was it shallower than that - an attempt to see if she were cruel enough to taunt him with the little piece of his lost love?
Faye didn't know the reason, didn't feel like figuring it out on her own, but also knew that she couldn't share the discovery with Spike. Now that she had a deeper understanding - begruding as it may have been - of the shit he'd been through, she couldn't just walk up to him with the "by the way, Julia's dead, but you can have her lighter as consolation" line. Nor could she offer him the false hope that Julia would show up on the island at some point. He was delusional enough without that added into the mix.
Besides... What if he tried to wander off on another suicide mission? Faye couldn't handle losing him again. She just... couldn't.