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 Posted: Wed May 01, 2013 8:59 pm
As she went home, images of the night’s battle replayed in Irene’s head. It had, she thought, started fairly well. Her opponent had been a reasonably nice guy. A bit obnoxious, perhaps, and he’d rubbed her the wrong way more than once. But he’d been trying to help her, and she repaid his kindness with violence. That was inexcusable. Even more so because she’d known that it was possible things could go that way, and taken measures to prevent it. And yet, it happened anyway.
What was it about fighting that turned her into a monster?
She wasn’t one of those people who lived for battle, not at all. Thinking about fighting tended to make her queasy even before she’d discovered her unsettling tendency to take things too far. Hurting people never pleased her, even when they were annoying people. Her spars hadn’t done much to sharpen her skills. She was definitely a better fighter than she had been when she was awakened, but then, after two years of being a senshi, she had to be. Otherwise she’d probably be dead by now. The fact that she wasn’t was less a testament to her improvement, and more due to her teammates, and even total strangers, helping her when it mattered.
And, for the most part, she was okay with that. Ever since she’d realized what was most important to her about being a senshi- namely, helping people who couldn’t help themselves- her fighting skills had taken a backseat. She still needed to be able to defend herself, and other people, but she wasn’t concerned about hunting down agents of evil anymore. There were plenty of senshi who were suited to that. She was better at helping people get to safety, or giving teammates support. Maybe she could even develop a role as an advisor to conflicted senshi like Ida. Though considering her own internal conflict, she kind of doubted that. The point was that there were things she could do, important things, that didn’t require her to fight much. She could, in theory, avoid the problem altogether. No sparring, no fighting. It was, technically possible.
It wouldn’t, however, actually solve the real problem. She would have to fight something or someone eventually, if only to protect herself or someone else. If she ended up fighting a youma, that wasn’t a big deal. But if she had to protect herself from a human, either an agent of the Negaverse or a corrupted senshi, she might end up really hurting them. Once, that would have been merely unsettling. Now that she had seen that they were real people, sometimes even decent people, she was terrified of doing something she would later regret.
But if it was something she would regret, why would she do it in the first place? Until Irene knew the answer to that question, she was a danger to everyone around her. Fighting youma was acceptable, if necessary. But she wouldn’t set a hand to another person, not until she figured out what was going on here.
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Posted: Wed May 01, 2013 9:02 pm
Birds of a Feather[Irene + Columba] Irene instructs a chibi senshi on identity concealment.
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Posted: Wed May 01, 2013 9:04 pm
Fools Rush In[Irene + Acanthite] A meeting with another corrupted senshi answers some questions, and raises still more.
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Posted: Wed May 01, 2013 9:05 pm
Cassinental Drift[Lydia + Cass] Some things never change. This is not one of those things.
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Posted: Wed May 01, 2013 9:06 pm
As her father had predicted, Lydia had a lovely birthday party. The food was fantastic, the decorations were gorgeous, the dancing was exciting, and the performance she’d arranged for was dazzling. Her guests seemed to be having a good time as well, fortunately. There were a few school friends that she tried to keep up with, and people she knew from her dance lessons. Yvette was there, of course, even though Uncle Alan and Aunt Natasha were not. Even her father, Iosif Sfakianos himself, was there, rather than working late or traveling on business. Not that he often missed important events like her birthday, but it had been known to happen. This time, he’d even helped with the setup. He had the first dance with her. He brought out her birthday cake. It was just the way she’d imagined it. Almost.
As enjoyable as the evening was, there was an empty space. For the most part, her mind was occupied with all manner of fun diversions, and she didn’t notice. And then something would happen, and she’d see it: the place where Cass should have been. An empty seat at the table, an extra plate in the kitchen, a blank spot on her dance card.
The fact that Cass wasn’t there wasn’t what really bothered her, though. Considering his lack of an RSVP, Lydia had considered the possibility that he was busy that night, if only briefly before dismissing it. It was upsetting, sure, but she would have been able to handle just that. They would have made arrangements to do a special celebration, just the two of them, for both of their birthdays. Maybe with cake, or a game, or something Cass wanted to do. Any of that would have been fine, and if she had such an event to look forward to, the empty space wouldn’t have been so hard to deal with.
But there were no other parties to look forward to, because Cass was just gone. Not really gone gone- she knew that he was out there somewhere, doing something. She just didn’t know where and she didn’t know what, because Cass didn’t want her to know. Or, apparently, to be a part of her life anymore. Every time she saw traces of him, her heart ached at the remainder of his sudden and shocking departure from what she had previously considered one of the most solid friendships she had.
So what if they didn’t see each other all the time? That wasn’t the point! The point was that they were friends through thick and thin. Knightside bullies hadn’t stopped that. Going to different schools hadn’t stopped that. And, Lydia decided as she listened to everyone sing “Happy Birthday” to her, Cass acting strangely wasn’t going to stop that either. She had invested too much in this relationship to let him sever it because he was being a dumb boy.
She would keep texting. And calling. She would send emails, and maybe even the occasional letter. Not demanding anything, but just talking about the same silly things they always talked about. She would go on behaving like they were still friends, because that was how she felt. Eventually, her feelings would get through to him. Surely, if she kept trying, he had to understand eventually. Right?
“Make a wish, Ladybird!” Iosif told her, resting one hand on his daughter’s shoulder.
Slowly, Lydia leaned in towards her cake. She closed her eyes and thought for a moment. Then she took a huge breath and blew, not stopping until every single candle was extinguished and she was quite dizzy.
I wish that Cass and I can be friends forever, no matter what happens.
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Posted: Sun Jul 28, 2013 11:30 pm
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Posted: Sun Jul 28, 2013 11:31 pm
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Posted: Sun Jul 28, 2013 11:32 pm
The Fun House[Irene + Columba + Everyone] The carnival carnage comes to a close. Fun is not had by all.
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Posted: Sun Jul 28, 2013 11:34 pm
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Posted: Sun Jul 28, 2013 11:35 pm
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Posted: Sun Jul 28, 2013 11:36 pm
Building Bridges[Irene + Sheena] Late Nights After Work with Super Sailor Irene continues. Tonight's guest: Guardian Cat Sheena!
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Posted: Sun Jul 28, 2013 11:38 pm
Pigeon Perch[Irene + Columba] Irene comes across her not-really-protege and takes her for a test run, of sorts.
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Posted: Sun Jul 28, 2013 11:40 pm
No Shirt, No Shoes, No Service[Lydia + Irene + Howl + Nysa] A youma at Maize Maizier means that both Lydia and Irene have a long night at work. At least she's not alone.
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Posted: Sun Jul 28, 2013 11:42 pm
The Scene of Vandalism[Lydia + Howl] A shaken Lydia attempts to discuss the aftermath of the attack on Maize Maizier with one of her coworkers.
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Posted: Sun Jul 28, 2013 11:44 pm
Maize Maizier was closed for a week after the vandalism incident. During that week, the police finished their investigation, the insurance claim was filed, and reconstruction began. Some employees were asked to come in to help with fixing the place up, but those who were present during the attack, including Lydia, were given the whole week off. To recuperate, the owners said, from the stress of that night. It was, she supposed, a nice idea. In theory.
In practice, it meant Lydia had a week of being fussed over by her parents. Of her father making her recount what she said to the police, to the owners, to make sure that she couldn’t be blamed somehow. Of her mother dragging her to the doctor, even though she said time and again that she hadn’t been hurt at all. Her checkup had scuttled that careful lie, revealing the bruises that Sailor Irene had received. Her quick and (she thought) inspired explanation was that she’d tripped over debris while running away. That satisfied the doctor, who agreed that the injuries were consistent with falling. It did not satisfy her parents, who watched her constantly and all but begged her to quit her job.
The evening before she was to return to work found them sitting in the den, Iosif reading the paper at his desk, Anya and Lydia working on a jigsaw puzzle on the coffee table. The issue came up yet again, as Lydia had known it would, and things went downhill from there.
“It’s not as though we need the money,” Iosif said for what might have been the fifth time. “I work hard, little Lady, because I don’t want you to have to.”
“I know you think you’re helping,” Anya added, stroking Lydia’s hair. “But when your father and I worry about you like this, the only thing that helps is knowing you’re safe and sound.”
Eventually, Lydia couldn’t take anymore. She wriggled out of her mother’s embrace and stood a few feet away, arms folded to keep from hitting something. “Why are you so adamant that I can’t do this?” she demanded, her tone level, but barely. “I can’t stay here with you forever. I need to prove- to myself, at least- that I’m able to work in the real world. Yes, sometimes scary things happen, but those only test our resolve. We’re not meant to give up at the first sight of trouble. And if this was a test, didn’t I pass? With flying colors? Not only was I not injured, but I helped make sure that nobody else was either. I helped save lives!” Usually, recognition for her good deeds was unimportant, due in no small part to the fact that she had a secret identity to maintain. But this time, Lydia Sfakianos was the hero. And her parents needed to see that she was capable of taking that role, and others that they might not be comfortable with.
“Of course, we’re very proud of you,” Anya said reassuringly, closing the gap between them again. When Lydia moved away from her touch, she frowned and looked at her husband.
Iosif sighed. “Nobody’s saying you’re incapable, Ladybird. But you know we only want what’s best for you-”
“No,” Lydia interrupted. “You want what’s safe for me.”
“It’s the same thing-”
“No it’s not, Babbas!” Lydia took a deep breath, to help keep her temper in check. Recent events had shown her that losing it was dangerous. While she found it unlikely that she would hurt her parents, she didn’t want to take any chances. “Doing what’s safe is not always what’s best for me.” How could she make them understand? How had she come to that realization herself?
A memory drifted to the surface, of something that she hadn’t thought about in a while. Her parents had been stunned into silence, so she took the opportunity to launch into her story. “When I was in fourth grade, we had a substitute gym teacher. The normal gym teachers were always very good about finding me other things to do, since I would always have doctor’s notes. This one didn’t believe me. He made me participate in the class for a whole week.” Lydia smirked at the stunned expression on her mother’s face, and her father’s furrowed eyebrows. “I didn’t want to tell you, then. I was afraid I would get in trouble. I was afraid of a lot of things back then. You would always tell me to be careful, not to overdo it, that safety was the most important thing. And so I was careful, and I didn’t overdo it, and I thought that everything I did was all I could ever do, because everything else was too dangerous.
“When the gym teacher made me play with the other kids, I was scared that I would get hurt. And sure enough, I did. I don’t quite remember what sport we were playing- dodgeball, maybe? Something with a ball. I remember that, because the ball hit me, and I fell over and bumped my knee. If I was here, you would have gotten out the first aid kid, and kissed it, and given me a nice treat. At school, the teacher said I looked fine and told me to keep playing.” Here she paused, both for breath and for emphasis. “And I did. I found out that I could keep playing, and that it was fun, even when I got hurt. I could run farther and faster than I’d ever tried before. Not as fast or as far as some of the other kids, but that didn’t matter to me. I was so surprised that I could do these things, after being told for so long that it wasn’t safe for me. The last day that week, we had a relay race, and my team actually won. I’d never thought I could win a sporting event before that.
“And then, the regular gym teacher returned, and I was back to doing other work during gym. Before, I had never minded. But once I knew that I could do more, sitting on the sidelines was painful for me. I...” Lydia took a deep breath. This was something she’d never planned on telling her parents. “I stopped giving the doctor’s notes in the next year. From fifth grade on, I did gym with all the other students. I’d black out that part of my report card, so you would never know. And I discovered even more things I could do, despite thinking for years that I couldn’t.”
Iosif stood up, angry. “Why would you do such a thing?”
“Aren’t you listening?” Lydia asked, exasperated to the point of tears. “It wasn’t just about gym class. I found out could do so much more than what you let me do! Maybe I would have been happy if I had never discovered my real potential. But I did discover it, and I could never go back to pretending to be less than I am. I won’t! Not even for you, Babbas! Why can’t you trust me to be careful without limiting my every move? I’m nearly an adult now, and I won’t have you treating me like a baby anymore!”
With that, Lydia ran out of the room. Iosif shouted after her, but she ignored him. Instead, she ran all the way upstairs to her room and shut and locked the door. Shut, not slammed, because she was a lady and did things politely. Then again, she was angry. She didn’t really feel like being polite. So she unlocked the door, opened it just a bit, and slammed it, reveling in the feeling of power that simple act gave her.
The noise made Mariposa, who was sleeping on Lydia’s bed, jerk awake and start barking. Lydia went over to sit with her and pet her, wiping her eyes with a corner of her comforter. “Why can’t they understand?” she whispered, raking her fingers through Mariposa’s soft fur. “I don’t know how to make it any clearer. I know they mean well, but why can’t they see what they’re doing to me? Even you have more freedom, Mari. You can go where you want, within reason. You can sleep all day, or you can dig holes in the garden.” The comparison was imperfect, and Lydia knew it. Mariposa had fewer options open to her than she did, and her own set of rules she had been taught to follow.
“Just like me.” After all, hadn’t her parents trained her to follow the rules they’d set? To engage in “safe” activities, to get home early, to behave in a certain way? Even her hesitation when it came to yelling, or using harsh language, or, or... or slamming the door! That was a textbook example of something she’d been trained to do- or in this case, not to do. She had done it anyway, and the world hadn’t fallen apart. Just like it hadn’t fallen apart when she’d participated in gym class, or insisted on dorming, or started working at Maize Maizier. Every time she had pushed against the boundaries she had, nothing happened, aside from some yelling and complaining.
Mariposa began to lick some of the tears that had fallen onto Lydia’s skirt, making her giggle. Her giggles got louder, then turned into full-out laughs. “I’m not broken,” she said, moving her arms to demonstrate to herself and Mari that they worked. Then her legs, then her head. “When I come up against a wall, it breaks before I do! So why pretend that I need to stay inside the walls anymore? The only thing that’s really preventing me from exploring what’s out there is me.”
This was a real revelation. One that Lydia knew her parents wouldn’t like, but if they couldn’t see her for the mature, responsible, almost-an-adult that she was, then she didn’t care what they thought. She’d lived in her gilded cage long enough. It was time to do things her way. The excitement was making her giddy, and she wanted to share it with someone other than her dog. Her phone was on the dresser, just waiting to be used. Still giggling, she picked it up and tapped out a text message to Cass.
> My parents want to lock me up until I’m shriveled like a prune. They’re in for a surprise.
Would he read it? What would he think? While she’d sent him numerous texts in the months since they’d last spoke, none of which had gotten a reply, this one had a very different tone to it. Lydia bit her lip, then nodded and pressed “send.” This was something she wanted to do, and she wasn’t letting anything get in her way anymore. Which inspired her to send another message. In her list of contacts, she pulled up her father. Usually, her texts to him were in Greek, since he claimed to ignore the others. She had downloaded a special keyboard and everything for it. But this time, her text was in English.
> Thank you for your concern. I will be returning to work tomorrow, as planned. ~Lydia
Maybe he would claim not to understand it. It didn’t really matter, since he’d proven that he didn’t understand even when they spoke the same language. Whatever his reaction was, Lydia felt it didn’t really matter. The important thing was that she had sent the text, in English, saying what it did. Slowly, the walls that kept her imprisoned were coming down, and she was more than ready to see what lay beyond them.
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