milliways_bar | (no subject)

Once Kara got out of the cells and only kind of bolted for the Door, she couldn't get back to the Bar for a few days. She was sort of surprised she missed it, but hey, here it is. Coolness.

First things first - she leaves a long overdue note with Bar.

I turned myself in and did cell time for the fight in the woods. You don't have to, because I worked that out with the girl who took me in, so I'm hoping that you're satisfied with that.

I know it probably won't matter to you, but I am sorry. I hope you're doing okay.

- Supergirl

After that, Kara heads outside to study for Claire's math quiz. One small, blonde, cross-legged levitating girl in an entirely seasonable crop top and shorts is hanging out by the lake as she pours over her mostly borrowed notes.

This, she reflects, would probably be easier if she'd ever taken a test she could remember before that didn't involve hitting things with cars or identifying the silhouettes of weaponry.

Distractions will bring her grade down, but she'll be grateful anyway.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Oh, so that's where," he explains where he guesses it loops back to one of the more complicated aspects of her physiology she described, "comes into play. How interesting."

"Exactly!" Kara bobs cheerfully in the air. "You're really smart, you know that? Most people can't figure that out and...well, that's why I have a short version."

"Thank you," he says, self-deprecatingly. "What's the short version? You say 'superpowers' and then nod several times?"

Kara laughs and nods. "You know what? I like you," she says, like it's just that easy to go throwing around affection. She's starting to think it might actually be like that.

Wesker mentally categorizes her in the category of alien. No, no. Different kind of alien. Something like Suzi, which goes around throwing affection. He metaphorically ducks.

"That's generous of you." It is. It's also wierd, but he can easily call it 'generous.'

That gets a quirked eyebrow, and...yep, more laughter.

"You," she says, eventually, "Are kind of weird. Good weird, but still. Weird!"

He's a bit startled, but it's relatively easy to join someone in humor. That gets a smile, a downward duck of his head to shield his face a little. He actually has heard this from teenaged girls before, only he was around, oh, nine. "You have to have met a lot of people you like here."

Or, let's take the topic thisaway!

"Actually, not so much," she says, and hey, he's smiling! Clearly, good things are afoot.

So she straightens up out of her curve over her books, and throws in a little more beaming. "Kind of one of those mixed situations? Like when you get a bag of mystery candy, and like, some is black licorice and some is blueberry flavored, but you can't tell by looking at them. Like that."

Fortunately, it cannot be told by looking at him that Wesker is thinking 'No, no. Some are.'

"I hadn't thought of it like that," he answers. "I found the bar unsettling, but my world can be viewed as much more mundane."

Wesker clearly doesn't realize that everybody normal talks like that. It's like, a rule.

"Most people's can. This place is crazy, you know? And I'm even used to stuff like this," she says, lacing her fingers behind her neck.

Some days it's just Wesker and his red pen of grammar correction against the world.

"You mean your entire world's like that." . . . wow.

"And the surrounding universe," she says cheerfully, "Also, no matter what you're picturing, I swear to God it gets crazier than that. For serious."