[u][b]Lynn[/b][/u]

Lynn had never been on an airplane before in her entire life. She had never even stepped foot in an airport. 

Lynn hated it. She hated the stupid smug faces as they strapped her in. She hated all the conversations they'd had before about this. She hated turning her arm over for some doc to draw boiling blood from as a man kept his finger on the trigger of a rifle behind her. She hated the quarantine room where she'd done push-ups and shadowboxed until her un-enhanced lungs set to wheezing and her legs gave way, stomach rumbling enough to shake her bones.

The thing she hated most was that they'd taken her powers from her.

She was cold. Lynn had only been cold three or four times before that she could recall. Underneath the far-too-baggy sweatshirt was not much in the way of body fat. Lynn shivered in the recycled air on-board as they ran system checks. [i]A thousand fuckin rockets strapped to this thing and it feels like we're up a polar bear's ass.[/i] Lynn was shivering. Her legs couldn't reach the floor of her seat. She was strapped in so she couldn't move. When they began to take off, Lynn's stomach had such a visceral reaction that she was confident she was going to hurl. She forced it down. She was [i]not[/i] going to be the little bitch who did this on the first day. Some of these pansies were holding hands or praying or reciting poetry but none of them were hurling and she was not going to be the first, just announcing to the world they couldn't handle themselves. One guy looked to be strapped down even more than she was. Lynn took interest, chewing on a bloodied lip and observing him for a minute. [i]This one is the big bad wolf?[/i] Lynn looked him over. He didn't look all that tough. Maybe he killed a guy or something, who knew. 


And there was a very small part of her that glanced at the window, and for just a second, forgot the cold and the bitterness and just stared out at all the blue.

They were there soon enough, which was fine by Lynn. She was still shivering from the air. Being cold was the worst sensation that Lynn could imagine. Vaguely, she wondered how much power she burned just staying warm throughout the day. [i]I should probably, like, wear better socks or some shit.[/i] They unstrapped Lynn and asked polite questions which she ignored, staring at the headrest in front of her. This shit shouldn't even have been legal. She wondered how long ago they'd had the technology to get this many people to the moon. [i]Certainly not in '69.[/i] Lynn hit the floor with shaky legs and braced herself on the arm rest for a moment, regaining her footing. Christ. All of this was fucked up. 

Lynn's mind was, above all else, resilient. She had been in too many hairy situations or tough times to really stop and mull over the world around her that frequently. Lynn operated on some pretty simple principles: reject the narrative presented to you, because it's frequently a lie. Avoid complicating that narrative. Fuck over whoever told you that narrative just to be sure. But what she was seeing and feeling was so beyond anything she could have comprehended. She was on a spaceship. There was altered gravity and...Lynn noticed her heart was hammering inside her chest, and she wasn't quite as cold. On her last day on the outside of all of this, some three months before, she'd had to steal a wallet to buy dinner. 

She was on a spaceship.

The other principles she could hold fast to. Lynn looked around the pod slowly, marking the faces of all of the Promise staff. There was the lanky bitch that strapped her into the seat. That acne-ridden motherfucker who probably flipped the switch on their powers. They'd made her cold, and small, and made her legs swing off the floor, jostled against the seat because she was just barely tall enough for their rig. Lynn committed their faces to her memory. It did not occur to her that letting someone whose presence catalyzed explosions run uninhibited on a spaceship might have ended disastrously, nor did it occur to Lynn that her thrusting into the back of the seat in front of her unrestrained would have tested even her own regenerative capabilities. Stuff like that complicated the narrative. The narrative was simple.

They might've put her in a golden cage, but there was nobody who could make Cordelia Lynn Holmes sing.

She took a moment to gain her footing, closing her eyes. The cold? Fuck the cold. She was ice cold. Lynn let herself just marinate in it for a moment, getting good and pissed off. She clenched her teeth tight so no one would see them chatter. Lynn's ratty brown hair was pulled back tight as she straightened up and grabbed her luggage - a small, worn backpack, primarily held together by duct tape, and a duffel bag that did not even appear to be halfway full. She managed to sling it over her shoulder with slight difficulty. She walked out, forcing herself to keep her face deadpan as she handled the gravity switch.

Lynn's stomach did not keep so tight a deadpan. 

She seized onto the nearest trash can, the smell of vomit flooding her nose ([i]at least I'm not the only one[/i], Lynn barely had time to think) as she contributed to it. Lynn stood back up, shaking, absolutely fuming.

God, she was going to somehow make Acne-Face's appearance uglier once she got the chance. Lynn steadied herself and followed the glowing tiles, trying to stay focused. The truth was that she could hardly handle everything going on. This was easily the nicest place she had ever been in. She was back in a school that was sort of a juvy, and was unsure which one she was better equipped to handle. The truth is that under all the ash and choking sour smoke there was, somewhere, a girl who couldn't believe she was up in the stars. But fuck you if you think for one second you were getting her to come out and play.

Lynn turned the corner to the orientation staff and only refrained from loud and violent cursing due to several weeks of court-mandated counseling. Her counselor had been kind of a total bitch, but he was cool sometimes. Lynn took a deep breath, feeling her fire come back to her. She was warming up, slowly, as the nullifier wore off. It'd been the first time in a little while, and it felt good. Her teeth stopped chattering and her bag was getting lighter and lighter. Slowly, subtly, her hair stared to change color, going from a mousy brown to a bright yellow, bright as the sun they'd been threatened to be shot into. She went ahead into the cafeteria and put her back to a wall, surveying the room. Okay, there was one girl wearing a shock collar. Lynn took a bit of offense to that. They never would've gotten on on her, of course, because she would never let the Man stick it to her like that - but how come they hadn't tried, huh?

Lynn figured she wasn't gaining anything by lingering around, and, paranoia or no, she hadn't had this much food before her in a long, long time. Lynn filled up her tray with as much food as she could carry and settled at a table, paying no attention to where she sat other than to distance herself a bit from those near her. She would've preferred a corner seat but there was no such luck. Lynn ate steadily and quickly, manners disregarded, not once taking her backpack off.

Lynn had seen too many broken promises to really be excited about this one.