strangetrip | [GP] All we can do is learn to swim

Entry tags:

[GP] All we can do is learn to swim

Grief is like the ocean; it comes on waves ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim. - Vicki Harrison

"You're sure?" Regina already knew the answer but demanding that Sam tell her what she already knew satisfied something petty in her. Or maybe just something hurt that hoped he'd have a different answer than her locator spell had already provided.

"Yeah." Sam half-rolled his eyes at her as he leaned across the pink bar counter to grab bottles of beer from the Silver Bar ice bin -- probably the results of Rebekah's last work-effort at the Inn -- for himself and his newly arrived companion.

Briefly, Regina considered burning a hole in the seat of his jeans, but it wouldn't bring Rebekah or any of the absent ones back. Instead, she took refuge in straightening her A-line and walking around the stylish counter Sam lay across like he was surfing the waves of grief. She took down a bottle of pointlessly pricey champagne, and then found the precise cut-crystal glasses Rebekah and Miss Fisher had preferred for their afternoon indulgences. She poured herself a glass and one for the person who dared her openly bitter expression.

"So who all are we missing?" they both said at once, glared at each other and sighed. They both knew the answers, in their own way and for their own reasons. And neither of them wanted to say.

Rebekah Mikaelson. Henry Winchester. Jack Robinson. Phryne Fisher. Dorothy Williams. Angua von Uberwald. Jaime Vegas. Harry Dresden. Lydia Martin. Raleigh Becket. Yasmeen. Joanna Beauchamp. Constance Bonacieux D'Artagnan. Lindsey McDonald.

"Grief is like the ocean," Sam clearly quoted from some fucking where, and Regina tuned him out until he added, "All we can do is learn to swim. Rebekah told me that."

Now Regina rolled her eyes; they weren't friends. "Shut up, Sam."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I bet I can guess what you're thinking," Kitty offered as Odo found his way toward the bar. She didn't smile especially brightly, considering she'd lost one of her dearest Inn-friends, but she'd already reconciled herself to it. As much as she could in public, in the space of a single morning, anyway, and a good bartender always had a smile for her customers.

"I am usually not that easy to read, but you do have experience with that... place." He made a gesture to refuse in advance the glass she probably was about to suggest. "Thank you, I don't drink. Or eat, for that matter." He sat at the bar nevertheless, and looked around. "So, what do you think is going on in my head, doctor?".

"You don't or you can't?" Kitty tilted her head, curious. He was different, and even if she preferred the mechanical and physical sciences to the biological ones, she couldn't help being curious. "It might help you blend in more, if you seemed to drink or at least had a glass in front of you." Then, for just a moment, Kitty's eyes sparkled impishly. "Something you're hoping you won't ever have to do, since there's clearly a way out of here."

Odo titled his head. This one was really clever. "I tried ingesting organic food before," he replied, staying safely on the physical issue. "It was a messy experience. But if it makes you more comfortable..." he extended his hand, which turned into a shiny brownish alien goo, then rematerialized, only this time holding a perfect imitation of one of the bar's glasses, filled with some liquor. "See? I can blend in. It is always useful, wherever I am. Including when I get back to DS9. If. No, when."

"Wow. Okay. So, if you can't convert organic matter into fuel, where do you get energy from?" A metamorph typically needed more fuel than non-metamorphs, except the energy projectors like Scott, because of the kinetic energy required to shift and he'd need even more to maintain shape against inertia.

Belatedly, she added, "And no, it doesn't bother me one way or another. It's just easier to observe people when you don't stand out."

Odo let out a convincing sigh and a shrug. "I don't know enough about my people. Maybe our metabolism is slow enough that our reserves last for centuries, or maybe I gather energy from my environment. I theorize that I could tap directly from some form of subspace, the one where I would tuck away the extra mass when I convert to something small. ... I just know that as long as I regenerate every sixteen hours, I'm fine. I would need to find others of my species to be sure, but it is even less likely here than when I was in the Alpha Quadrant."
He adjusted his position on the stool and let the fake glass melt back into his hand. "Incidentally, it's even easier to observe people when they don't even know you're there."

"Regenerate?" Kitty cocked her head, curiosity painting a brightness in her eyes that she certainly didn't feel today. "How do you do that?" He was a scientific puzzle, and on a day like today, she could use one.

Whoa. That wasn't cool. Treating him like a science project. She blushed and ducked his gaze. "I throw myself into science whenever I'm upset. I'm so sorry."

Odo let out a sad smile. "I revert back to my natural gelatinous state for a while, it's comparable to your sleep cycle, though I remain aware." He patted her hand gently. "Do not worry, you are not the first to have trouble seeing me past the biological wonder. If you must know, my very name means 'Unknown sample'... Though I must say, you solids have your share of oddities! None of which brings us any closer to figuring out the mystery of this place."

Kitty shook her head. "It's not that. I can..." She changed course mid-speech and set her hand on the counter in front of him. "I'm not a 'solid'. Watch," she said and then phased her hand through the counter.

When really surprised, most people tend to release some control and make weird faces, gestures or sounds. For Odo, it was the other way around: he was rarely surprised, and when he was, he simply forgot to mimic any humanoid reflexes. That's why he just sat there, perfectly still, not a single eyebrow rising or anything, as he witnessed the pretty human's hand pass through solid matter.
"Hum, that is interesting. Even I can't do that." he finally said. "Is it some kind of sub-space phasing technology?"

Kitty patiently waited until Odo remembered to do humanoid things, at least, she assumed that was what he was doing. Because she'd had to remember to do solid things after the time she got stuck in phased form.

"No technology," she replied soberly. "Genetics. Have you meet Piotr yet? The big Russian guy who is sometimes shiny silver metal? He's like me. We're mutants." Yana was, too, but she was difficult to explain even when you knew what mutants were, and Laynia hadn't come out to everyone (neither had Kitty but more and more people knew) so Kitty didn't want to expose her.

"I have not been here long and am yet to meet more in detail most of the guests. I've seen him, but he looked human enough, though rather on the hefty side. Mutants, eh. I've heard of quite a lot of mutations, genetic enhancements and cross-species hybrids with strange abilities, but none that ever came close to that kind of prowess. It would seem that along with an improbably high number of law enforcers, our merry little stranded band also boasts an even higher proportion of people with extraordinary abilities. I still cannot believe there is no purpose behind this. Do you imagine what we all could accomplish were we able to actually do something, instead of wasting away in this... place?"

"Every day," Kitty replied easily. She wasn't Caroline or Regina to know every person in the Inn and have plans for them. But she did know most of the people here and their capacities. "It's occurred to me that someone might actually have a need for a group of specially-abled persons. It wouldn't be the first time that's happened."

"At least," said Odo pensively, "it would offer some explanation. Including to why some would come and go, and the potential tests and challenges the temporary doors provide. The remaining question, of course, would be that if someone is powerful enough to create or use this pocket dimension, and to bring here such a league of extraordinary ladies and gentlemen, what use would they have with comparatively limited beings such as ourselves?"

"My experience of 'infinitely powerful' beings is that they're lazy, bored, or have long since forgotten how to do anything as simple as saving a planet," Kitty replied wryly. "The Asgardians got into fights with each other and then involved us as proxies."

"You're right. The Q in my universe are truly omnipotent, yet they seem much more interested in squabbling among themselves and pestering some people than actually do anything helpful. What a waste. Then again, maybe that when you're powerful enough, everything that is not you is of little relevance. But I still won't bend to their whims, as long as I have some degree of free will."

"It's not a terribly helpful thought, though. We're still stuck here waiting for whatever it is they want us to do, if we assume that's right."

Kitty frowned at the intrusive thought that if they did figure out how to leave, she'd lose Wyatt. Maybe, she argued back. Maybe. And she wasn't about to let this place Stockholm her.

"And we're back to the depressing thoughts, the circle is complete. Only this time, I'm depressed as well. Good job..." he winked at Kitty, with a pretty strange result given his face, but the meaning was still there.

The wink was such a strange expression, but it wasn't without a certain charm. She smiled just a little. "Sorry about that."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[GP] All we can do is learn to swim

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject