indispensible | fourteen. spam. co co rico co co rico, in a flash of lightning.

[She has been, if truth be told, a little lost since Stark left. Not because she was dependent on the schedule created by making sure he didn't do anything stupid, but simply because she misses him. His magic is still working, it seems; the things he enchanted for her function just as they always did, her golem-dog following behind her alongside Mike as she makes the rounds of the Barge.]

[Having his magic still at her back gives her a very specific sense of power - or maybe support. She knows she's powerful. It's nice that someone has her back anyway.]

[She spends most of her time on maintenance, at Anya's direction. But since she doesn't have an inmate to boss around anymore, she has more free time than she knows what to do with; since there are so many obviously dangerous people since the latest collision, she's experiencing a nice uptick in paranoia, too. She pays extra attention to the Mirror additions - not conspicuously, not drawing attention to herself, but she watches all the same.]

spam } psyke

[She has been watching this one - the one who was Jean - especially closely. Whenever she comes out of her room, Vin is there waiting. When she doesn't come out, Vin's there, too, listening with flared tin at the door for any sound that might filter through.]

spam } ben

[Vin is not as good as she might be at identifying the subtleties of emotion. If she was, she'd be able to put a proper label to this feeling. Right now the best she can do is betrayal, even though it isn't Ben's fault. And sadness. She is sad.]

[She sits outside his cell in silence, unblinking, waiting for him to speak. Wonders if he's going to spend the whole month in here. Probably he is.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Helena is one of the Mirror additions, but she has been silent, scared and hiding, unable to quite believe or trust the fact that this Barge is different. And even if it is, it will change back. They will be sent back. It would be worse to find a place here, then have it torn away. And besides, Dillon is here and she doesn't want to make him angry.

It's been a few days. She speaks to no one. She stays in shadows and comes out of her cabin rarely, usually late at night and early in the morning. She doesn't use the showers, doesn't use the network, doesn't visit the dining hall during mealtimes. She stays in her room-- but it's not her room, here it's Sarah's room, and she finds herself hungry to know why and how. She plays old conversations her other self has had and listens, fascinated and frightened, and part of her wants so badly for the friends the other her has made to be her own, while another part reminds her sharply that some of these friends are the worst kinds of wardens on her rightful Barge.

There's rot around her counterpart's door. This is one of those rare times when she leaves the cabin, finally needing to collect more food from the dining hall, and when she returns she finds maintenance working there. Instantly, she turns to leave, hands deep in her pockets, hood up and covering her hair.]

[She is a quick worker, as Anya had said she would be; by the time Helena gets back she's already almost done fixing the rot. She's vaguely proud of herself and has been thinking, while her hands were busy, about how she can use what she's learning now to fix Luthadel. No, Elendel now. How to make it even more beautiful than it is. How to help.]

[Soon, she knows, she will go. She is only slightly upset about this, and because she knows it, because she sees this time as a storm she can weather and then will go far away from, she feels it's only right to lend her strength to the people she loves.]

[In one way or another, she does love Helena. She sees her and feels seen by her. No matter which Helena this is, that remains the case.]

[She turns and puts down her tools carefully on the ground.]

Don't leave. [Not quite a plea: a request.]

[She's torn between terror and desire and that uncertainty of emotion is ultimately the thing that makes her freeze. Her feet stutter to a stop and she's still, her back to Vin. Her breath comes hard and her heart beats like a rabbit's. The Vin she knows is not a threat, not to her, but this one? Who knows? Everything is shifting; nothing is sure. This Barge seems better but better might be a trap.]

Why? [Why would you want me to stay? She turns, ever so slightly, just enough to look back from under the fur that lines her hood and shadows her face.] What... do you want from me?

[For a moment she doesn't answer, just watches her with tight lips and sad eyes. Helena should trust her. Well, not really - there's no should with this, there's only trust and distrust and you can't make someone trust you - but it hurts a little. They had been getting somewhere. This woman is flighty and frightened and so much smaller than it seems like she ought to be.]

You seem sad. [That's why she should stay.] And I . . . could use some help. Some company.

[It's less Vin herself than just the situation. The world should have gone back to normal - even if normal for her is a hateful place - and it hasn't. There's no template for how to react to that. This Helena is smaller than the other because her reaction has been to go still, become small, hide.

And yet... after a few moments of hesitation, she does finally turn and move towards Vin. She stays closer to the wall, running fingers along it, skipping them over the repaired rot spots.]

Help and company are different things.

fourteen. spam. co co rico co co rico, in a flash of lightning.

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