milliways_bar | (no subject)

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(no subject)

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]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

::Yes?:: the words taste of ash and flame in the distance, grit in the wind and the sweat of honest fighting.

Let it come.

"I didnt mean to disturb you. Couldnt help but notice you. My apologies."

Even if she isnt looking, he ducks his head.

"How are you this morning?"

No, she's not looking. It doesn't mean she doesn't see though. She's like that. There may be the gentle feeling of fingers lifting his chin, warmer than they should be, flame licked...

::I was not diturbed...I'm up here to prevent things from the other way around:: she chuckled.

His own chuckles, warm and yet dark sounds.

"I am afraid to tell you that when the light meets your skin, you are hardly invisible... and you are a nice sight to see."

He smiles. He is one that would appreciate such.

"And you didnt answeer the question. How are you?"

The splintered laugh like that. She does it herself...

::Very few look up, ever:: she pointed out. And maybe, just maybe she was testingherself, making sure she could bear to walk among others with her back bare.

::Better than I was::

He nods.

"Would you join me? Loath as I am to lose such a sight, I would be glad of your company."

She's a hero...she doesn't hide, so there's no hesitation as she drops from the rafters, more liquid movement than any human has right to.

::How have you been Bruce?:: she asked as she sat, chin resting on her folded arms.

"Tired. Other than that, avoiding thinking, avoiding pushing too hard. Working as always on a cure..."

Sometimes all one can do is try to work on a cure, even if one never gets there.

Rachel is a creature of touch, so perhaps it is not suprising that she reaches out, flame clinging like cobwebs between her fingers and brushes his cheek lightly. Just a small gift of strength, of energy...

Better than coffee.

"How badly do you want a cure, Bruce?" the words aer gentle, though there's a great deal of weight in them.

He shivers and smiles under her touch, then freezes at her words and blinks at her.

"Wha-... what are you ?"

he stares at her for a long moment.

"Rachel" she answered, drawing her hand backafter that single touch.

She's used to such reaction...she is. Honest.

...she'd thought she could help...

"No... I didnt mean..."

he shakes his head.

"I am not asking What are you? I am asking what are you talking about?"

He sees her look and this time he is the tone who reaches out and touches her face, gently.

"Look at me, Rachel, touch the outside of my mind, and know I am not lying."

::I'm a micro telekinietic, alongside the macro...with more power than makes any galaxy comfortable. If you truly wanted...::

It wouldn't be hard.

And that should scare her.

She's not meeting his gaze though.

"Rachel... look at me, please."

he sighs.

"I've had it done similarly twice before... and each time it came back. I dont know why, or how, nbutn something in my universe wont let me not bne the Hulk... not yet... that doesnt mean I dont look for a cure... but... I dont want you to be hurt."

She doesn't point out futility. If he knows he will fail...and strives anyway....it is simply part of what he is.

When she meets his gaze, the emerald fades rapidly to flame and universes within such...

And he smiles, meeting her eyes, his own brown with a tinge of green.

"Hello, Rachel."

He nods and lowers his hand at last.

"I would welcome your help, if you can find out what is at the bottomm of this. The last people who helped me magically, and telekinetically, both had a major backlash when it reversed... I dont want you to ever have to face that."

That just earns a small, sad smile. She's faced worse, and lived. Are not the scars proof?

"I will look, if you like"

He nods.

"Thank you."

He knows scars, but he wouldnt willingly add to them, ever.

He lifts his hand and reaches out to her, and inside his mind, his shields fall completely.

He doesn't have to drop his shields...she simply has to pay attention. It's that simple for her now. Amazing, how unfocused the rest of the world is in her mind, so she doesn't influence them all...

But now, now she's paying attention...

A great being of flame, gently diving deep, far deeper than she should be able to...

And he watches her, eyes wide, and just breathes, feeling that power and then he grits his teeth. In his mind he restrains the green door. Power unlimited dwells behind it and brings rage with it when it escapes. And so he holds it... and holds it, and holds it.

She's not concerned with the doors she sees.Nor their roots, so intermingled and entwined.

No, she's far deeper than that. A flaming ghost among things no normal eye or mind could see or comprehend...

...searching...

The depths of him are dark and darker yet, filled with shadows and lights and doorways and things that go boo, or boom... but the end seems no closer, no nearer. Even as a plaque comes into view, with one word;TRUTH.

She does not mind darkness, she harbors her own, and it is a void...

And she is a being of light...

She passes through the plaque, tasting it in passing...

Copper and sorrow and light and faith and fullness...

And the depths stretch onward, but to all things, there is an ending.. an illusion of an ending perhaps, but en ending.. a wall, simple, green, quiet... stone.

And outside, Bruce trembles....

She had offered to look, and that is all she will do.

To the wall and far, far beyond...for what she sees is far different.

But there is no hesitation. No halt.