(no subject)

[futures_of_ash]

Rachel is in the bar, slowly stretching in the rafters. The feel of muscles moving under whole, undamaged skin is something that makes her smile. And, for a wonder, she's actually not wearing spandex or torn jeans...no. She's wearing a small work out bra, rippling scars showing in breathtaking patterns everytime she bends her back.

It's a tale of pain and agony each time the light shifts over the slick skin...

Perhaps that's why she's in the rafters. She hates to bother people.

[Alas, the computer is being stolen from me. Open to slowtags of course]

Comments

[prydeful]

Course, if you tend to know when someone's there, even hiding in the rafters isn't enough that you won't notice them, it must be said.

[futures_of_ash]

True, but then again, the few who know where she'd be? Wouldn't be as bothered by the sight.

Or so she hopes.

[prydeful]

Hey, if you've got scars of your own, who're you to object to anyone else's?

"You having fun up there, Marvel Girl?"

[futures_of_ash]

Very few bear scars well, their own or others...heroes aside.

Or hero ninja teachers aside...

"It passes the time" she answered softly, staring down from her current position.

[prydeful]

It's something you get used to.

"I guess it'd do that. You wanna pass the time with a boring old schoolmarm, instead?" She's not yet looked up, really, just drinking her coffee.

[futures_of_ash]

"Somehow, I doubt you manage boring, Pryde" she chuckled, a sound lacking in mirth...

But, because Kitty asked? Rachel slips down from the rafters, settling into her stretches on the floor properly beside Kitty's chair.

[prydeful]

"It may be beyond my admittedly eclectic skill range," cheerfully, and now she looks over from her coffee.

"What's up, Red?"

[futures_of_ash]

"You'd have to lose a good portion of yourself to be boring" she agreed. "And we can't have that"

She glances up, again, with the not-a-smile but trying expression "I'm as healed as I'm getting...and there's been a door flickering. I hear your own reality is grim...?"

[prydeful]

"God forbid."

She shrugs after a moment.

"You know how it goes. Hey." She reaches out and gently pokes Rachel's forehead.

"You don't have to try with me."

[futures_of_ash]

"I'll add God to the list of "Pissed if fates screw with Kitty" right after the X-crew" she teased gently.

"Yeah, life goes pear shaped no matter what. It's a constant..." she winced at the poke slightly, blinking at the soft touch "Trying's what I got Pryde. My heads burning up, my body's whole...and I'm scared...what's left?"

Kitty Pryde...one of the few people to get sheer honesty.

[conflictedhero.livejournal.com]

Fromm one dark corner, a man probably fsmiliar, in at least one aspect, watches, a small smile on his face. Pain and effort and agony are all things he is decidedly familiar with.

(ooc: as always, slowtime is love)

[futures_of_ash]

It isn't a pretty show, unless one is into the play of shadows along ruined beauty. It's slow and deliberate.

It's careful.

And as graceful as the shadows she's hiding in...

[conflictedhero.livejournal.com]

For Bruce, it is a familiar dance. One he has looked on from the inside. Seeing someone else dance it is both troubling and somehow comforting.

He watches, eyes brown in the light, mnoticing scars, damage, and muscles.

He nods, remembering.

He has never been that pretty, but he knows the dance.

[futures_of_ash]

She asked to keep the scars.

She'd almost begged.

Not for the pattern they are carved into, no, nor for the cruel artistry...but for the proof. They are real.

She had forgotten what others may see in them...

[conflictedhero.livejournal.com]

Memory and pain and sorrow, beauty and joy and loss, faith returned, hope renewed, dreams shatterred... all are seen and passed by.

Scars are like a map, old and new, remembered, dreamed, scorned, hoped for.

In Bruce's eyes, too much is seen. By Bruce's eyes, too much is seen. And he watches. He remembers her picture, from a thousand get togetheres, from a hundred crises. He watches and he remembers and he sits.

For Bruce, the light playing along muscles and scars is beauty and pain and he will not disturb either.

[futures_of_ash]

Shards.

It's all shards, knitted somehow into a whole so there's an excuse to go on.

Strange, how she's always said far more in silence than she ever has speaking...but eventually she stills, tired perhaps, or simply finished...

A single arm hangs down as she lays curled now, fanciful, scarred ribbons swimming upward along the skin to fade into shadow with the rest of her.

[conflictedhero.livejournal.com]

And he watches. He doesnt know where she got these scars, but he has beenc ause of enough of them to feel the pain of them even from here. He watches and a small smile forms, for her rest is as enchasnting and disturbing as her movement.

Excellent eyesight picks her out and details out even across the room. But Bruce just sits and watches.

[futures_of_ash]

Each detailed leaf of the tree cut into her back seems to stir as she breathes, slow and easy, one couldthink her asleep...

And the woman standing near the tree? Her smile is cruel, even as the rest of her face is hidden...she almost seems to beckon to the darker aspects...

[conflictedhero.livejournal.com]

"Such dark beauty, such stark horror."

[http://users.livejournal.com/_purple_crayon/]

Harold's sitting on the floor of the bar, playing. Humming to himself, he draws a bird. As soon as the bird is finished it flys up up up and starts singing. And as he watches the pretty bird he notices the someone in the rafters. He peeeeeeeeers at her.

"You high."

[futures_of_ash]

[Ach, I keep missing you by moments don't I? And falling behind on slowtimes as well...apologies!]

Rachel lifts her head at the movement in the rafter with her, and isn't at all suprised by a crayon creation. She's seen far stranger in her time...though it does look lonely. A wave of a finger and a knowing smile, and the single singing voice is joined by a small chorus...

Then the small garners her attention "Yes" she agreed simply.

[http://users.livejournal.com/_purple_crayon/]

Harold looks in amazement. "Ooooooooooh."

He draws some butterflies which flutter up to Rachel.

[futures_of_ash]

And she adds flame colors to their wings, and great curling attenaes of light so they can navigate better. She even colors inside his lines, here a touch of star heart blue, there coal's red...

But still his butterflies.

[http://users.livejournal.com/_purple_crayon/]

He gasps and stares.

Then laughs and claps.
"'gain!"

He thinks.
Soon the air is filled with twinkly faeries, swirling, twirling and dancing in the air.

[futures_of_ash]

Ah, faeries are something special, no need to paint them at all...no, but they start trailing sparkles and colored dust.

And faeries also tend to be mischievious...laughing and plotting to sweep up and tangle in Rachel's hair...

Or sneaking behind Harold to tickle his ears...