Kathleen Thorn ☼ Kara Thrace (ravinglunatic) wrote in thereincarnates, @ 2014-10-26 03:19:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | kathleen thorn |
Who: Kat Thorn
What: A break down that results in a drastic new look
When: Saturday night, October 25th 2014
Where: Her apartment
Warnings: Depression, minor suicidal thoughts
Some people had succeeded in bouncing back right after the world righted itself again, but not Kat. What had happened to her over there, what she'd become... it had stayed with her, like a leech. Slowly sucking away at the blood in her body until she felt dizzy and nauseous. She wanted to be able to forget about it, but she couldn't. What Camelot had done to her, what she'd done to Scott. She couldn't get it out of her head, and it was slowly eating away at her until she finally lost it.
For the first few days after the return, she'd done nothing but drink. That gossip blogger had gotten that much right. What they missed, though, were the nights after too much to drink where Kat would sit in her Viper, close her eyes, and imagine herself crashing. She'd never take it off the ground, she wasn't that stupid, but just the thought of it was nice. That if she wanted to, all she had to do was flip the on switch and take her up, maybe nose dive her right into the Grand Canyon. Kat didn't want to die, not really. No more than Kara had anyway, they were still fighters at heart. Fighters with an inner suicidal mission, always in danger of self destruct, but still fighters. She just wanted it to stop. She wanted this all to stop.
Becoming a Cylon was one of Kara's worst fears, and as it turns out, it was one of Kat's too. It made her skin crawl, just thinking about that machine speaking for her. Using her body for things that even Kat was ashamed of, and if you knew Kat, you knew she wasn't ashamed of much. She couldn't get the look on Scott's face as he died out of her head, no matter how much she drank, she couldn't stop picturing it. His features twisting into an expression of confusion and betrayal. She might not have known him then like she knew him now, but that didn't matter. She could still picture it. She could still feel the poison on her lips that had ultimately been his undoing.
She wanted it all to end, she just wanted the memories and being able to feel what that machine felt to stop. She didn't want to feel this empty anymore, this cold. She didn't want to feel him dying in her hands, and enjoying it. Whenever she actually went to sleep, she dreamed about it, and it was the first thing in her thoughts when she woke. She couldn't stand it, every moment of every day was unbearable. She was always only seconds away from breaking, she could just feel it. Wouldn't be the first time she or Kara had completely lost it.
"Hi. This seat taken?"
Their voices echoed from the still very fresh memory in Kat's ears, mocking her as she stared back at herself in the mirror. She couldn't stand the way she looked anymore. To her, all she looked like was that Cylon. How could she face him now? How could she face anyone? She could barely look in the mirror, let alone make eye contact with anyone else. She couldn't stand the sight of herself anymore, it was just an unpleasant reminder of what she'd become.
"Oh yeah, extremely taken. I reserved it for this gorgeous girl I saw here earlier. Blonde hair, smoking body. Sent her a drink and everything."
Blonde hair. Bloodshot eyes with some pretty serious dark circles around them raised to eye level, looking back at her in the reflection and for a split second, Kat didn't recognize herself. That is until her vision shifted back into focus and the blonde hair became more obvious, and she had never hated the sight of anything so much in her entire life. Her mind still plenty hazy from all the whiskey she'd consumed that night, Kat didn't even realize what she was doing until the top drawer in the sink was already open and she was taking out the scissors. Chunk by chunk, that pretty blonde hair that no longer felt like hers fell to the floor in a pile at her feet as she cut furiously, the shearing almost loud enough to drown out the frantic sobs as she tried desperately to make herself look like somebody else. Anybody else. As long as she didn't look like her.