What have we become?
Posted: 10 Feb 2016, 02:02
For Jersey
Nakia: Pressing her hand through her hair, she gave a quiet groan as she stared at the message on the forum. The tone would have easily been missed by anyone else - but she knew her sister. She could practically hear the blonde’s teeth grinding together as she forced out her reply with a look of indecisiveness in her eyes. With a shake of her head, she grabbed her phone from the desk and stood, making her way towards the couch. Every move she made had her husband pausing in the other room, his hand hesitating over his book as he strained to hear what she was doing. “I’m fine, baby,” she called out as she fell onto the couch and searched through her contacts, fingers highlighting Jersey’s name.
[Text] It won’t mean much right now, but I’m sorry. For taking your arm, that is. It was uncalled for.
Jersey: She had been sitting on the floor with Quentin in her lap, the black and white cat purring away as she ran her fingertips through her fur. Green eyes were locked on the phone, trying to consider if she wanted to erase the bit to Nakia before it had been seen. With her blonde hair falling over her shoulder in a loose French braid, she was surprised when her phone beeped in her hand and she looked down at Nakia’s text with a frown playing across her lips. She was still mad about it all. But, rather than ignore it, she replied with.
[text]I didn’t call you a **** - I don’t even like that word. What I said had been if I was being one, you two were. Up to interpretation, I suppose. I would have accepted ‘*****’, however.
Nakia: Tossing the phone onto the table, she winced when the clatter echoed through the small apartment. At once, she heard his fingers still on the keyboard during the same second that his assistant poked her head out of the door. “I’m fine,” she repeated and scrubbed a hand down her face. She hadn’t anticipated a response, and the vibration caused her to jerk in surprise, her fingers scrambling to grab the device before it fell off the table. At the answer, she raised a brow and merely shook her head. She knew that it would have been up for discussion - but she wasn’t going to defend herself or her actions.
[Text] I’m not talking about all of that. I’m apologizing for taking your arm. It got out of control. If you want to talk about that, we can. Everything I said - in a way, I still mean. You weren’t yourself and neither was I. You’ve changed, and no, I’m not talking about your choice in men. I don’t care anymore. I’m talking about how you spoke to me, your tone and your words. They weren’t you and I freaked out.
Jersey: Her green eyes moved towards Peter as he worked and she pushed herself up off the ground after nudging Quentin off her lap. “Go bug him.” She whispered to the cat and then headed outside of the room to the hall of the Asylum with a soft, “I’ll be back” called to the man. When her phone rang, she read over the message and chewed on the inside of her cheek. Her eyebrow lifted. Her choice in men hadn’t changed.
[text] Your apology has been noted, acceptance is pending… Yeah, it did get out of control, I’ll admit that. I don’t really want to talk about it because all I really have been able to do lately is talk about it, or think about it, or be angry. Hell, I’m still angry. I’m still upset, and what made it worse was when you died, I was afraid it’d have to stay that way.
She paused, and looked at the words.Nakia: Kicking her feet up onto the table in front of her, she welcomed the warmth of Xylia at her side. The regal creature had stretched out, her sharp claws digging into the couch without so much as a care to the cost of leather. Rolling her eyes at the cat, she brushed her fingers along a velvet ear before turning her attention to her phone. The vibration came instantly, and for a second, she merely stood at the words. They still weren’t her sister. There was still an undertone of something… wrong. She could feel the paranoia threatening to overwhelm her, the walls around her beginning to breathe. Her fingers trembled, and for a moment, she was afraid she was going to lose it all. It’s okay, Kitten. It’s okay.
With her husband’s assurance in her mind, she gripped the phone and traced her tongue over her lower lip. It was going to be okay - she was going to make it through this. Jersey was still Jersey, even if she was a… colder… version. Shaking her head to clear her mind, she typed out a response with shaking fingers.
[Text] You’ve talked about it, but not with me. Not with the person that was involved, the person that matters. That’s not fair. You have a right to be angry, but so do I. You brushed off my issues to further your own agenda and that… hurt. You know how hard it is for me to speak out, and you didn’t care. You’re different, and it’s terrifying to me. It might seem miniscule to anyone else, but to me, it’s astronomical. I could have handled it differently, but you know that I can’t. At least, I couldn’t. I’m trying, but it’s not easy. And you had a reason to be afraid, because I didn’t want to come back. I almost didn’t.
Jersey: Her back set against the door as she slid down to the floor and stretched out her legs. Inside, she could hear the click of the keyboard and she set her phone in her lap as she thought about what happened and what was said. Maybe a little bit of Marilee’s personality was rubbing off on her, but wasn't that who she had been? She frowned. She didn’t like it, truthfully, but she didn’t know what to do. Looking at the phone as it vibrated, she hesitated before picking it back up. There was a crack in the screen from where she'd dropped it in the apartment once she'd gotten back. It was something she needed to fix.
[text] I don't want to talk about it angrily. What good would it do, getting pissed off to high hell again? Kia… I’m not microchipped. I never have been, you know that. If I could find a vampire friendly hospital to run an x-ray to prove it, I would. I wasn't furthering my own agenda, sis. I just… I don't know what to say. I hate all of this, so much. I know you couldn't have and I should have thought rather than blurted, but it just… came out because I thought that you’d be able to listen to me, I guess. I’m different because I’m trying to make sense of who I was, but I know who I am.
Nakia: Running her finger along her lower lip, she studied the message for a long time. She claimed that she wasn’t microchipped - and though, logically, she knew it was improbable - she couldn’t control the nervous energy that flooded her. She could be lying. It wouldn’t have been the first time, and she knew that Hanna would stop at nothing to ensure her death. How easy would it have been to lure someone as sweet and innocent as Jersey into a trap? With a quiet groan, she slumped against the couch and forced herself to concentrate on the here and now. She’s not one of them, Kitten.[Text] No one is getting angry, Jersey. I’m fine. I’m calm. There’s no need for a hospital. They’ve programmed them to hide from any search. I hate it, too, but it’s happened. We just need to figure it out. I’ll try to understand that you’re finding yourself, if you try to keep in mind that I’m not sane. I try to be. I’ve gotten better, but it’s not easy. As for Peter, I know you love him. I’ve known it all along. Do I wish you chose someone else? Yes. I don’t like him. I don’t trust him. However… I’m not marrying him. You are, and that’s your choice. I respect it, even I don’t agree with it or how you opted to go about it.
Jersey: Jersey read over the message quietly, thinking that as much as she thought Nakia was nuts sometimes, she loved the woman. She always would, even if she was angry at her. It was probably what upset her the most about everything - she didn’t hate people. It wasn’t in her. She could immensely dislike them, but Nakia wasn’t one of them. Feeling a tear slip down her cheek, on the verge of crying, Jersey used the sleeve of her shirt to rub at her face before sniffling and typing at her phone.
[text] Are any of us fully sane? And… I know, Kia. I am feeling better though, mentally. I know what I like about the past me and what I don’t. It’s… Marlee Evans was a complete brat. And, thank you, about Peter and I know you don't like him. He really isn't that bad though, Ki. And I felt incomplete without him, hollow… I know it doesn't make much sense, but he makes me happy. I’ve loved him for almost two years and this feels right. Attached is the picture of the engagement ring.