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Tweak says, "Let's Have a Kiki!"

Helena Wells-Quinzel is H.G. Wells (indelibleink) wrote in makebelievelog,
@ 2013-06-05 15:55:00

Entry tags:

h.g. wells, myka bering

Who: Myka and HG
What: A talk and HG avoiding a certain topic.
When: After this exchange
Where: HG's ~~disaster area~~ ~~nuclear fallout ground zero~~ sitting room
Warnings: Angst galore, largely from HG's side, anything else TBA

Not many people would notice the difference, but Helena was slightly better with Myka being back. Even if she was still going to keep the past relationship a secret, Helena was more than glad to have her friend back, the woman who knew her better than anyone else. Which was also part of the reason Helena needed to be careful when they were around each other. Myka could read her like no one else could, and she needed to ensure that she didn't let certain things slip yep. No doubt Myka would be able to tell she was keeping something a secret, but in Helena's favor was the fact she had several such "secrets" to tell Myka and hopefully those would help curb any pointed questioning on the deeper secret she held for the time being. She knew she couldn't just not tell her at all, Myka deserved to know why Helena was so sad, but revealing such a thing now was a bad idea.

Upon receiving Myka's initial text message, Helena braced herself and stuck with vague references. Hopefully opening up about some other things would help ease the burden she carried. After Myka was on her way over, Helena glanced around at her sitting room. Currently it looked more like a disaster area. Crumpled paper with discarded story ideas, half-finished sketches for inventions that went through her mind and various other things were strewn on the floor. There was also the remnants of a destroyed invention scattered on the floor. She had pulverized the poor, unsuspecting thing a couple nights earlier in a fit of frustration and emotional turmoil. Standing up from her couch, Helena picked up as many of the paper balls as she could and tossed them in a waste bin, though there were still some strewn around. She then went and gathered the remnants of an invention, she couldn't even remember what it was supposed to be, and set them in a box. She had taken some parts from her area of Anakin's workroom so she could work on things here when she couldn't sleep and didn't want to leave her room. She grabbed a partially finished grappler and set it in the box as well as what was the shell of what looked to be a sonic screwdriver from Doctor Who. She set the box down near the fireplace, then she grabbed a few notebooks and a couple books, one covering the topic of Biochemistry and the other covering Differential Calculus. She put them in an orderly stack on the table before she picked her tea back up and took a drink of it.

Grappler was draped on the back of the couch, lazily eyeing Helena as she did a quick version of cleaning. Given Myka was in the room next to her, she didn't have much time to actually put things away. Reaching out, Helena pet Grappler and debated putting her in her bedroom and closing the door so Myka wouldn't have to deal with her if she didn't want to. But that thought was interrupted by a knock, which she knew could only be Myka. Striding to the door, Helena opened it, a smile finding its way to her face without any effort on her own behalf despite the fact she was very much not okay at the moment. No doubt she looked a bit out of sorts given the news about Clint and James had sent her reeling again.

"Come in," she invited, moving out of the way to let Myka in.

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indelibleink
2013-06-10 04:05 am UTC (link)

It wasn't surprising that Myka hadn't thought that far ahead. Clearly she was still trying to wrap her head about this place and what she and Claudia had told Myka upon her arrival. Sometimes this was a place that took some getting used to. For Helena, the hardest part about adjusting to this place was adjusting to being alive. Being in a new, strange world she didn't know was something she had previous experience with. This place wasn't home, the Warehouse wasn't home. What Helena considered home was long since gone and she was left adrift and not feeling like she really belonged anywhere. Of course, before Myka had been sent home she had started to settle in, started to feel as though she belonged somewhere. But now that had been undone, and she was right back where she'd started.

"There are plenty of options available. You can do whatever you wish to." Helena sipped her tea again. "Though just so you are aware, when you were here before, you had a job at the university teaching English." Helena thought Myka should know that just in case anyone from the university recognized her or if she wanted to get that job back. Myka could take that information however she wanted, but she deserved to know that and know she her options were open. She didn't have to go into law enforcement if she didn't want to.

"I work as a waitress at the O, Brittania pub. And don't laugh," she quickly chided, casting Myka a look. "It reminded me of home, and that is something I needed when I arrived here." Helena had needed that grounding of something familiar. True she'd never spent her spare time hanging around in pubs in her day, but the general atmosphere of the O, Brittania pub was the closest to Victorian England that she knew she would ever get. "Though I have begun thinking of finding another job, I just do not know what. I may try to publish some things I've written, not under my own name of course." Which came with mixed feelings on her part. She couldn't very well write under the name H.G. Wells, and even Helena Wells could raise potential questions. Which was why Helena had a clever pseudonym picked out for if she published anything she'd written since being here.

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agent_bering
2013-06-11 12:54 pm UTC (link)

Myka nodded to herself. Teaching English at a university could be something she saw herself doing. She loved books, and her know-it-all attitude put her right at home in the position of professor. Of course, the same attitude made her perfect as a law enforcement agent. But could she really do that here?

“A waitress?” Myka practically burst out. Yes, Helena had told her not to laugh, but Myka couldn’t help it. Helena, The H.G. Wells, the Father of Science Fiction, who had invented devices that surpassed just about every other inventor of her day, who had more adventures than the characters in her books. And she was a waitress? Myka clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from saying anything more until Helena was done talking. If her friend had needed a place that reminded her of home, then who was Myka to disparage the choice?

“This time you get to take all the credit,” Myka said, raising her eyebrows. “Do you have any ideas of what, other than publishing, you’d want to try?”

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indelibleink
2013-06-12 03:03 am UTC (link)

When Myka had her outburst of laughter, Helena gave her a little look then drank her tea. It no doubt sounded absolutely ridiculous. Well, it was probably a little ridiculous that the famous author and inventor and Warehouse agent was now a waitress, but the fact was that Helena was good at her job. Dexterity served her well there as did her observational skills, to the point where she knew what regular customers would order when they came in. But she didn't deny that she was starting to have that feeling of something missing from it.

"Yes I will, though I will still use a pseudonym. My books are available in this place, so H.G. Wells suddenly having a new book would raise questions. Given Helena Wells might still raise questions I'd have to lie about, I am going to use Georgia Neal." Where Georgia came from was obvious, but Neal had been her mother's maiden name, which Myka would no doubt know. Though Helena could not help the slight sneer that momentarily crossed her face at being reminded of her mother. "I have no idea. It's still strange to me that I even have choices in the matter."

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agent_bering
2013-06-13 07:57 am UTC (link)

Myka raised an eyebrow at Helena for the pseudonym. Yes, Myka caught it was a reference to Helena’s mother, but she could have sworn Helena was closer to her father. And she was proven right when she noticed the sneer.

“I’m sure whatever you write will be as fantastic as your other books.”

There was a short pause before Myka spoke again. She was trying to figure out how to word her question as best as possible. She wasn’t trying to push HG, but she knew the woman bottled feelings and let them fester until they burst out in dangerous ways.

“Helena,” Myka said softly. “You said in your texts some people you cared about were sent home. If you want to talk about that now we can.”

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indelibleink
2013-06-13 09:24 am UTC (link)

"Thank you," Helena responded with a smile, looking at Myka. It was a genuine sentiment, much as the thank you Helena had given to Myka shortly before her death. Only Myka wouldn't be aware of that particular instance because to Myka, that never happened. Helena had never died and the Warehouse had never been destroyed.

At the mention of the texts, Helena nodded slightly. Loss was something Helena could never handle. She tended to keep everything locked deep inside until it came out in horrible ways. This topic was difficult for her, especially when it came to James. Taking a breath, Helena moved her hand, intending to take Myka's but she stopped herself mid-movement, remembering this Myka didn't remember having been here before. Helena redirected her hand to pick up her tea.

"Clint was a good friend. He was a good man. James was an exceptional young man. They are at least home now." Sipping her tea, Helena leaned back against the couch, her gaze fixated on the tea cup she held in her hands. "Both of them were killed in March, and I bore witness to both deaths. James died in my arms. He was only fifteen years old." Helena's voice was filled with pain at recalling the memory that hung so vividly within her mind. And she knew she wouldn't have to explain any further how badly she'd been affected by James' death. Myka knew what she'd been through with Christina. Despite the fact James and Clint had come back to life after the Reavers had left, that did not erase the memory of their deaths and both of them still weighed heavily on the Victorian woman. Tears began to well up within her dark eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

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agent_bering
2013-06-15 04:19 am UTC (link)

Myka set down her tea then. She wanted to reach out to Helena, squeeze her hand again and express comfort through familiar touch. But Helena picked up her tea and Myka kept her hands to herself. She did scoot closer to Helena.

“That’s a hard thing to watch. Especially for you.” Myka was thinking about Christina, knowing how much HG was probably equating the two. Though Myka fully recognized how tragic it was for James to die so young and in such a horrible fashion, it seemed this place saw fit to make that death right. Whereas Christina’s death was never fixed. “A life potentially cut short that early is traumatic... doesn't mean you shouldn't be happy. It's okay to feel upset, and to let yourself feel the upset. And you can talk about it with me. I’m here to listen.”

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indelibleink
2013-06-15 10:05 pm UTC (link)

Witnessing those deaths was a trauma that Helena had not fully dealt with. It wasn't surprising that she'd pushed the pain away when she hadn't even really dealt with the pain Christina's death had left within her. In a way, the experience with Clint and James had perhaps only deepened her pain in regards to Christina because both men had been brought back to life, saved by whatever power rested within this place whereas Helena had been unable to save Christina. Bending the laws of time had only left Helena a deeply scarred and broken woman. This world was doing wonders for both healing her then breaking her again and she didn't know how much more she could take before she gave up altogether. Which was precisely why she needed Myka.

Looking at Myka, Helena just wanted to lean against her, to draw comfort from her, but that was a line she shouldn't cross yet. It helped having Myka there, knowing she wasn't turning her back on her even if she had plenty of reasons to. "That is rather the thing, is it not? I do not know how to let myself feel that. I had started to, but then this place brought them both back to life. Why should I have grieved when both of them were alive?" There was also the fact that Helena had done what she could to help them with the memory of dying, so Helena had to put the grief aside to help those she cared about.

"I know they are alive in their own world, for which I am thankful. But I cannot forget what happened the same way I cannot forget what happened to Christina." Setting her tea aside, Helena lifted a hand, slipping it around her locket and clutching it. There was also the fact her feelings over Christina, while ever-present, were going to be rearing their ugly heads the closer the fourteenth of July came. But she knew that as long as she had Myka on her side, along with her other friends, she would somehow be okay eventually.

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