dear_mun | (no subject)

Entry tags:

canon: marvel comics

(no subject)

I like how you make bad decisions late at night. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. Yeah, yeah, I missed you too. Like a foot misses between-the-toes fungus.

Though you're a bit behind with figuring out what, exactly, is happening back in my world, aren't you? Not that I really blame you. America going to hell in a hand-basket isn't exactly new, but crossovers are always hard to follow. Maybe you should catch up sometime. And finish making those icons you said you wanted to make.

I'm not encouraging anything else, just--... It'd be nice to know I'm not going to be forgotten again.

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I doubt you could really be forgotten. Not by some of us, at least.

I made that much of an impression on you?

You were my friend, and when friendships are generally all one has going for her, it tends to matter.

Oh... [ kanaya :c ] I miss you too.

So, what have you been up to since your departure, other than an irrational fear of being forgotten?

Nothing, actually. Hence the not-so-irrational worries about being forgotten.

I suppose I can relate to that much. While this past month hasn't been entirely quiet, my own participation has been...negligent.

It's an inadvisable approach. You've heard, I'm sure, what is said about idle hands.

They're the devil's playground. I thought only old ladies said stuff like that.

Well, then I suppose I've come full circle, officially earning myself the title as the first old lady at only seven sweeps of age.

But it's alright now, of course, I've gotten it out of my system. [ all it took was just kinda dying a little. ]

Seven sweeps?

... Okay, what happened?

I'm not sure if we'd discussed that before. We might have. A solar sweep is the time it took my planet to complete its orbit around our sun, though due to yours being much smaller, your years are proportionately shorter.

I've done the calculations, it comes to somewhere around twenty-six months.

And, um...you really shouldn't feel the need to worry about it.

So that makes you... fifteen-ish?

You're my friend. Friends worry about friends.

I was fifteen for two months on my wriggling day. That was five months ago. ...Or one week, it's difficult to keep straight sometimes.

I don't know. I guess I just let it all get to me, gave in to the more unproductive aspects of my disposition.

[ ... way to be confusing, kanaya. ]

And here I was thinking something horrible had happened.

Well, that was only the beginning. It ended with being tossed into an arena with two other girls and the expectation that I would kill them.

[ l o n g pause ]

The City went Battle Royale?

I don't know what that means, but it certainly wasn't the entire City. There were only eighteen of us, I think. All taken against our will.

God. That is so fucked up.

Which is why I couldn't participate. The other two had done nothing to deserve that fate.

So I demanded that one of them kill me first.

Oh. Oh, Kanaya... [ baby :c ]

It's okay. I'm okay.

Though in retrospect it may have been kinder to them if I'd set them both free of having to continue through the event's further progression. I put the burden of my blood on another's hands.

It was a lose-lose situation. Either way, they'd end up screwed over. There's no sense in guilting yourself about it.

I suppose. But I could perhaps have done better, if I wasn't so...otherwise consumed.

Asking what-ifs isn't going to get you anywhere.

I know this, intellectually.

But that doesn't erase the lingering doubt.