Borderlands: Kara & Rhys
Kara knew she shouldn't go. It wasn't that she was trusting, because she'd stopped being trusting the first time a government official tried to grab her for testing. She'd been locked in many rooms, and she wasn't going to be locked up again. No, wait, no, she stopped being trusting when her father forced her into a pod and killed her mother. She wasn't trusting, and she didn't trust Rhys, but she was curious about the way things had changed. Meeting him was an outcropping of that curiosity, and it came with the truth that she could kill him above the ground, if she wanted to.
She wasn't always like this, but the last thing she remembered from the hotel was being locked away by Oliver Queen, strapped to a table and machines boring holes into her hips. She remembered these things, and she wouldn't trust. Even if she wanted to believe Rhys was honest, she had no way to be sure. There was no proof, and she wouldn't count on human kindness. Uh- If he could even be counted as human- she wasn't sure.
(She was sure of one thing, and that was that Jason was not nice. Yes, this was important to think.)
She wasn't sure what to do about the impostor yet. Superboy he called himself, but he was not Kon. Kara didn't like Kon, but Kal said she had to, and so she tried. But this wasn't Kon, and that meant she didn't need to like him. Kal was gone, and with him the only person Kara really trusted, aside from Lois. But there was no Lois, not that Kara had seen, and Kara was alone.
But it was enough time for thinking.
Kara left the floor wet and unwashed. She slipped out of the Purple Skag, trusting August to not be around at this time of day, and there wouldn't be any customers for her drink or bed until much later. In her teal t-shirt and jeans, hip scarf in bright red, she made her ways through Hollow Points' dark alleys without fear. There was a tiny gun strapped to her hip beneath that scarf, Kryptonian and able to zap someone to particles without any recoil, and Kara wasn't afraid to use it. She'd killed many humans without meaning to, and what was it to kill one intentionally?
The girl that walked up to Scooter's place had hair with braids along the sides, ends in yellow ribbons, and the most innocent freckles. She looked no older than twenty, though her true age was much more complicated than this. Did thirty years asleep count? Did losing the years between fifteen and eighteen count? She didn't know any of these answers, but she knew who Rhys was, with his bright metal arm.
She walked up to him, sweat darkening the blonde at her temples, and poked the port at his temple. "What is this?" She asked in English, accent resembling a refined human Brit, and there was a tiny translation delay as the processors in her mind made the words into the language he understood. The translator worked for all Earth languages, and Kara had long ago found that the language here was compatible.