Cara's Apartment, Saturday Morning

[wrongkindofsith]

Cara was not having a good day. Yesterday had been...unpleasant, the incident at the Onsen being followed by fleeting, yet vivid apparitions of things she'd done, things done to her, and more appearances of that other version of herself, ready with a cutting comment, a quick fist, or a quicker agiel, the embodiment of an ideal Mord'Sith. Of course, that wasn't the worst of it, it wasn't like she hadn't learnt to endure either physical or verbal blows long before. The other other her, the nine year old who who didn't say a word but just stood there looking at her, that she'd had little defence against.

Then she'd woken up, and, well, given she'd spent years beating down and repressing every single scrap of her natural inclinations towards empathy and compassion as a survival tactic, it wasn't entirely a surprise that she'd ended up pressed defensively in a corner, back to the wall, hands against her temples in a futile attempt to keep some, any of it out.

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[harpy-daughter.livejournal.com]

The entire island felt wrong. Surreal had thrown-up almost immediately after exiting her portal, from the shock of so many psychic scents being so wrong. It had taken her longer than usual to make it to Cara's because of how disorienting the entire experience was.

It didn't help that she kept seeing glimpses of Blood males that she knew she'd killed out of the corner of her eye.

"Cara?" she called softly, before actually using her key and coming in through the door like a normal person instead of the window. "I know you're here, sugar, I can sense you."