Luminous Beings

The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.

Cordelia Lynn Holmes

"Yeah, she's getting help," Lynn said, fortunate to have someone else here with her. "Grab your t-shirt or something and hold it on my back for a sec then - " Lynn turned back to Eli, but she was in some kind of trance, crying and completely zoned out, shaking and trembling. She'd seen it before. Amelia in the woods last time, for starters, but a lot of times before then. Him trying to run in the restaurant or Spoons up and leaving. At least that was a little better. This looked worse, and Lynn had seen that too. That feeling of "Fuck me," Lynn muttered to herself again, turning back to the dead man. Lynn had seen a great number of injuries, and cared to a great many more. Not with any real semblance of medical expertise, mind you, but she may have qualified as a nurse in the Revolutionary War or something similar.

Besides, there were always people who would take a hideous scar and a few seconds of searing pain over a hospital visit that ended in handcuffs. This was...hideous. He didn't look human any more, and had it been any other time, the irony of that may have made Lynn laugh until she cried. Lynn had no love for Radvi, and didn't delude herself into thinking she was helping Radvi for any particularly altruistic reasons, but this was horrific. And she was in it. She was in him. As he breathed, his skull shifted, and she could see bone and sinew pull from one another each time he did, the ruined mess of his face shredded and bleeding out over Lynn's hands. She was soaked to her forearms in blood, and the ground she kneeled in was quickly turning into crimson mud. What was left of one of his eyes spilled over her knuckles. "What the fuck, Cara, hurry up!"

Then he and Natalie arrived. Lynn couldn't turn away without taking too much pressure off, but he started shouting like he fucking owned the place. Call Cara? I did. And he was sitting there comforting fucking Eli while she tried to stop Carrie with hemophilia from gushing out all over her face. Lynn's face was inches from Radvi's mutilated skull. She could smell nothing but iron and blood. Behind her, she could hear Archie's voice rising in pitch and intensity. You absolute bastard, she wanted to shriek, biting her tongue only because she knew it would kill them all faster. You come down here only to kill us all. Lynn felt the heat in her chest longing to be let out, to dance down her fingers and scorch away all the open spots, but she knew better. When he dies of burns they'll say it was me. They'll say he would've lived. No shit he was hurt, no shit D needed to be getting help, no shit they should call Cara.

"Someone fucking help me," Lynn muttered. Christ. She was in a pit full of mouthbreathers, and she counted the one who tap-danced on kids' faces among them.

Then out of the continuous meandering of panic came one person with their shit together and Lynn could not believe it was Amelia fucking Nelson. Vaguely, Lynn tucked away a reminder to herself to perhaps reappraise her opinion of the girl. Maybe she found the balls this guy probably shot off himself in the woods back there. She appeared, which may have startled Lynn more had she not been wrist deep in a man's skull, and wisely pointed out that she could carry them all back. "Fucking do it," Lynn said, not thinking of witnesses. He was going to flip any time soon and she wasn't going to be stuck in the death pit with the lizard when it did happen. Eli was cool. She didn't want to leave Eli to the wolves. But she couldn't die in here. There were people. People with dolls. She had to keep from losing it.

Lynn lost it when Denim came and opened up Cara.

"No fucking shit!" Lynn snapped back at Cara. "Which wounds need focusing? Bitch, there's a hole in his head! No, scratch that, he has like 10% head and 90% hole! It looks like Gennedy skullfucked him harder than he tries to fuck us!" It was more than this. She felt naked in here with all of them, with her, and with Denzel sitting there on a vision quest or some shit, after - how much did she remember? What the fuck did I tell her? - and a robot confirmed dead and back to life more times than Elvis staring wordlessly at them the whole time. How many times does this bastard have to be at the scene of a crime before we stop getting hauled in, huh? All of them just standing there. There was the steel staccato beat of her brain running through the ways they could pin this on her, what would happen if she went down now that Keaton was on the scene, if Arianna came back, if Salamandra still had people in prison. And in the dark part of her brain that ran through that, everything else was soaked in this cop's blood and brain matter, and everyone behind her seemed to be having a tea party behind her.
And on top of that, he was here, and he meant a great many things, Godzilla chief among them. Eli started talking about where the bullet hit, which seemed like the most no shit Sherlock analysis to Lynn, until she realized she must've been using illusions on him. Why? Lynn wanted to ask, from the only cold place in her body at the moment. Why play tricks on a dead man?

The dude from earlier - the watch guy - Shit, was he Fossil? joined the party, and Lynn nearly evaporated the deadfall into steam. We can have a class reunion but not a single one of you can get your hands bloody, is that fucking it? She turned back to the half-skull ahead of her, Radvi's eyes aimlessly staring back into hers. She'd - she'd seen gunshot wounds before. Lynn found herself rocking back and forth trying to keep as much pressure on him as she could, her stomach churning inside her. Lynn had an iron stomach, and was not about to let any weakness seep out in front of any of them, but there was nothing but liquor in her belly and nothing but bad memories in her head. Lynn had been shot before. Worse than this guy, she would argue, even if she still had her face attached afterwards.

"Anything obvious?" Lynn shouted. "You could grab a tampon from any one of these pussies and come fucking staunch the bleeding!" Lynn shouted, her hair flaring with purple light. Let me hear it, Spoons. Let me hear you say you're worried about my flipping out. And, oh, you saw me here first, didn't you, maybe I had something to do with this.

And then the kicker.

He grabbed Eli in his arms, sending another corkscrew into Lynn's gut, and fucking gave her orders. Looked at her and barked at her. Like a dog. Like his bitch. It was the first time he'd looked at her all night. So he could carry 5'8 and beautiful to the fucking hospital? What was wrong with her? I fucking faced her, Lynn wanted to scream. Who do you think was dead if this dipshit hadn't shot himself first, Anderson? Did you look in the woods? Did you ask? Did you see if I was fucking shot? But you're taking her to the hospital, aren't you?

Lynn looked down at the body before her. You're a get out of jail free card, Lynn said. I don't expect anything more. I've got a pretty good idea of how people on this station say thank you. You stop a lizard, they haul you in. You kill a - Lynn's mind slipped for a second, like static on a tv, and there were four people, gone, vaporized, ash, and the feeling of her jaw shifted out of place by an elbow, and then she was back staring at Radvi's mangled jaw, shaking as she pressed down harder. She'd seen enough people hurt to know when one was no longer a person, and instead a temporarily breathing body. The for-now person's tongue and the muscles of his cheek and bits of bone were pressing into the palms of her hands, like when she was little and she'd cover Lucy's mouth with her hand to shut her up, and Lucy would lick it to make her let go. Through it all, she kept her power in line, not once burning a single cell on his dead man's body. Not one. Not that it would matter. Lynn could make fire, but you should see what Gennedy could pull out of thin air.

A thought came to her, from him, from the last time in the woods, from hospitals, from gunshots, from Che. It and the laughter hit her as suddenly as the gunshot that put this dumbass on his ass. "I tell you what," she murmured down to him, watching him gurgle and cough by pure reflex. "If you survive, I'll bring you flowers in the hospital."

The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.

CORDELIA LYNN HOLMES

Lynn was getting sick of this shit.

There was rustling in the woods behind her and Lynn tensed, primed to grab this bitch and rotisserie cook her ass. You two dipshits, Lynn cursed. One of you can teleport and the other can do illusions and you come sprinting out the fucking woods? Lynn's mind quickly disregarded that - no, it couldn't have been them, it was a third party - or Arianna's back up, or dipshits from the hangout in the woods. Either way Lynn moved forward. Arianna had failed Lynn's little test. She wasn't a prisoner here - and if she was willing to lie to Lynn, she merited an ass-beating.

Behind her, a voice shouted for her to move. Holmes? Lynn obliged, moving to the side in such a way she could keep her eye on Arianna while watching this newcomer. The cop? Rafferty? And the cyborg dancer. Interesting, Lynn thought. Gennedy had told her that the robot was dead, and she'd seen him before in the mall, but Keaton said the other cops had chased after him. But now he was working with one. Division in the ranks, Lynn thought, a smile stretching across her flushed face. Lynn was not entirely sure which people were putting pieces on the board, but she was starting to get an idea of who the players were. If this cop wanted to take the fall for attacking her, Lynn wasn't going to stop him.

He drew out a taser but - no. That wasn't a taser. Lynn had been shocked by enough of them to know. Fire dancing across her shoulders, Lynn felt her blood run cold. Those fucking bastards, she realized, eyes widening. I hope they both die. I hope they both fucking die. Radvi shot her with the taser and the woman simply disintegrated into blue goo. Does it do that to every para, or just her? Lynn wondered, feeling her feet dance in her shoes. If Radvi turned to her she wasn't going to take chances, not with that fucking thing in his hands.

But he kept going. Lynn followed cautiously. He reloaded. He'd shot twice. Lynn tucked that information away for later. As far as she was concerned, this situation had just become a win-win. Gennedy's attack dog dying, Arianna dying, Arianna getting apprehended, Arianna just showing off her abilities - whatever information Lynn got was useful, and Keaton could process it better than she could. Lynn stayed close - far enough to duck behind a tree if Radvi tried to tase her, close enough that no witnesses could claim in good faith that her actions were construable as those of a little bitch.

Radvi went out into the woods, D close behind. Then Arianna trucked him. She threw the robot down the deadfall, and Lynn's eyes narrowed. Strong and fast, Lynn thought. And there's two of her. She flipped Radvi like - _Salamandra and grabbed the taser, snapping it in half. Well, there's at least one good thing that bitch did. Radvi's pistol fired off and she took the shots like they were nothing. Lynn was still confident she could win that fight - a statement that applies to literally anyone Lynn is considering fighting - but she was going to be tough. When the shots hit her, she rippled like jelly. There had been some kind of blue slime back there, too. This bitch is Flubber, Lynn thought.

Arianna threw him down the deadfall too, and Lynn braced herself to get involved. There was one more gunshot, but there was no way that Radvi could have - "Christ, they're all as dumb as Gennedy," Lynn muttered. She stayed low and still, watching. Arianna seemed to melt into the dirt, and after a few moments the forest returned to normal. Lynn cocked her head, waiting for the woman to reappear, to materialize behind her, but it seemed she'd gotten while the getting was good.

First things first.

Lynn went over to the broken taser and grabbed it, examining it gently in her hands. She was far too hot right now to risk holding it for long, so she scrambled over to a tree a few yards out the way and tucked the remaining pieces under a rock. This wasn't the best hiding spot, but Lynn was slightly drunk and there wasn't a lot of time. She was more than likely going to be interrogated for this, and she didn't want that on her when it happened. Still, it could be useful. Maybe Keaton could reverse-engineer it or do some science shit to it. She made a mental note of what the tree looked like - exactly like every other tree, it seemed - and stood back up.

Then Lynn went over to the deadfall, looking down. Her body cast enough light in the dark forest that she could see well enough, and she looked for a moment for a clear spot. Even the robot looked severely fucked up. I take it back, he and Cara should hook up. Lynn took a step or two to the side and then jumped down. As she jumped, a surge of warm hair seemed to burst up beneath her and she fell at perhaps half the speed the laws of physics would normally dictate that she should, walking out of the six foot drop. She looked around for a brief moment, wondering vaguely how she was supposed to get out.

"Shit," she muttered. She turned back to Radvi. He'd really managed to fuck himself. There wasn't a much better way to put it. Lynn went to pull the sleeves up over her hands but her hoodie was back in the dorm room. Damnit. Not that she was getting a real trial here, but she wasn't leaving fingerprints. Lynn kneeled down before Radvi, the smell of iron and gunpowder overwhelming. Lynn had seen people get shot before - for a brief moment, Lynn heard a scream, like hers, just like hers, and she was younger, and she was cold, colder than she had - but no one had managed to shoot themselves to this degree.

"I don't know if you can hear me," Lynn said, looking down at the mangled bloody ruin of Radvi's face, "But if you keep doing stuff this dumb, you'll have Gennedy's job in no time." Lynn considered cauterizing it but that would basically just mean burning off his face at this point. Lynn, for all the ire she held for the powers that be on the Promise, was not about to not help this man. She was far too implicated at this point. It took only a few seconds of mental calculus to decide on that. She could be placed here by Eli and Amelia, one or both of whom would definitely flip. Wasn't Eli talking to this cop before? Yeah, it wouldn't take much convincing there. They leave, gunshots, dead cop, Lynn over the body. If she was in prison, she couldn't help Keaton. Helping him might even get some of the heat off her back, and give them more wiggle room for their investigation. Plus, there was the robot there. She didn't know if he would narc or not - he assaulted children, so she leaned towards no - but she'd have to melt his ass too, and that would for sure put her at the scene of the crime.

And, a very quiet voice, one that sounded like Lucy, or maybe Eli, or maybe Keaton, reminded Lynn it was the right thing to do. Even if he lived, he wasn't going to be back in action anytime soon. He wouldn't be hurting any kids. A cog out of the ugly, rusted machine that let Arianna murder hundreds and kept children locked up (upstairs?) was happening either way.

Lynn closed her eyes for a moment, knowing that time was of the essence, but hating herself for what she was about to do. All she could think of was Che walking to the edge of the deadfall, looking down, shaking his head. God, if anyone she knew from juvy knew about this.

"Gearbox," Lynn said, turning to Freaky D. Maybe he was a Roomba, maybe he was a parahuman, maybe he was a Decepticon, maybe he was one of those dudes from that band. Lynn didn't care, but didn't feel particularly inclined to treat him with much consideration. D was a staunch negative in her book. "I don't know if you have, like, 5G or some shit in there, but call some medics or some shit." Lynn pulled out her cell phone and turned it on, waiting for it to come up. Lynn scanned around for any cloth she could use. Her own clothes hung to her in shredded, smoking rags, and she resolved to get something heat-retardant. How come we don't have those X-men suits, huh? "Or start making a way out of here." she looked at him. Did this thing even speak English? "Like a ladder. Ladder." she mimed it. "And I swear to fuck, if you try to dropkick me like you did Anderson, I will melt you down into a - " Lynn paused. Damnit, she almost had it. She was still a little drunk, and her mind was racing. "Just...whatever." Lynn turned back to Radvi, offered the least convincing sorry in human history, and ripped off a chunk of his pants as quickly as she could. If he was awake or alive, that probably was not pleasant. Lynn balled up the cloth in her hands, noting that there was some dirt, but her options weren't really great. It quickly became warm in her hands anyway, and she hoped that was good enough. Lynn pressed the cloth to the open maw that was half of Radvi's face and tried to angle him so the blood flowed off him and not back down his throat. He'd probably already swallowed half his teeth or something.

Lynn's phone buzzed with a ringtone that had not been utilized in most phones since the late 90s. "Cara," Lynn said, her forearms soaked in blood. If I go to fucking prison or get the needle for this, I swear to God.

"Yes, Miss Holm - "

"Alert someone on security who's not a dipshit that there's a dipshit who shot himself. We need, like, help, or whatever. I don't know his name. You know where I am."

"Who else is with you?"

Lynn paused. She turned and looked at D, who was twitching. Even the fucking machines have panic attacks here. Lynn wasn't sure what the play here was. Did this guy want her to say? Lynn was not about to pin someone else to this scene. That was a major little bitch move. She said nothing. D could speak for himself. Well, figuratively. She didn't know if she had to knock on his head in binary or something to get a message through. "This guy's gonna be as dead as Gary if you don't hurry your ass up, Cara, maybe tell me how to put someone's jaw back on?"

Lynn felt her back uncomfortably open to the ledge above. If Arianna was waiting, trying to lure someone in, her plan was working. Why is it always terrible options? "You stupid motherfucker," Lynn muttered to herself, pressing as hard as she dared on Radvi's open face. "Christ." She had an eye on Radvi's pistol but had not touched it. If Arianna came back, she'd make good use of it. She'd eaten the bullets before, but bullets had a bit more kick around Lynn. Lynn was a firm believer that no one was ever improved by being shot a couple of times. Briefly, Lynn considered emptying the gun into the dirt to try and draw more help, but decided against it. This was as much as she was sticking her ass on the line for a Promise police officer.

Lynn was left, in the isolated part of your brain that thinks strange things in terrible times, wondering if she should get drunk more or less often.

The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.

Lynn

The girl's sputtering was wasted after the first few words. The heat in the clearing rose slowly but steadily, and Lynn's clothes started to smoke faintly. The acrid smell of burning cloth fumed up around her, and Lynn cocked her head to one side, looking up at the girl before her with a growing smile. She didn't have any scars. She didn't need her hair on fire to be healthy. Lynn, for a moment, was jealous, the sad kind that just sighs and goes along its way. There was too much else to linger on it.

"Funny," Lynn whispered. "I didn't get these tattoos in prison here. That's some shit my celly did because she got bored." She was dodging the question. Lynn took a step closer, fingers dancing. "If I can trust you, I'll cremate that fucking body. But I don't think I can. So I'll ask you again - if you were a prisoner here, what was your number? Six digits. Spit it."

Her eyes and hair were reddish orange around the tips, but a faint hint of blue lit the roots and center of her eyes. I do not have much in me, Lynn thought, merely tipsy rather than fully drunk. Just once, Lynn thought, she wanted a fucking downhill fight on this station. Regardless, there was no need for her to know that. Lynn knew far better, drunk or sober, than to let on you weren't half as strong as you acted. Lynn stepped forward with the confidence of someone two feet taller than her, hands ready to grab her. What had Keaton said about her? Something about alarms and that was it. Goo? Hrrng. "Six numbers. Six numbers and I'll do whatever you need me to. I don't love these bastards. But I'm not turning around to leave and getting a shovel in the back of my head." Lynn's expression almost softened. Maybe it was empathy. Maybe happiness. "Lemme help you."

The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.

Lynn

The girl was small, but even small was bigger than Lynn. Lynn looked up at her, a brief moment of empathy warming her features from titanium to mere granite. Lynn soaked in her details unconsciously, as she did with so many things. Growing up, not being able to recognize the same face twice walking down the street outside your house or not noticing who was throwing side glances at you in lock-up meant someone had the leg up on you. If there was anything about this girl that could give Lynn an edge - or even an idea of truth - she wanted to know. She spoke with an accent - Scottish or Irish or some shit, Lynn couldn't tell - and seemed weak. Tired.

Lynn wanted to believe her.

She stared at her, listening to her words. What they have upstairs? Lynn had no idea what to make of that, wishing for the third time in a minute she'd been born with Keaton's brain instead of her own broken one. Even so, this - this more than having to talk at parties and make sense of who was following her and keep track of how friendly she and Keaton seemed in public and what to make of everything she felt and didn't feel when she saw Farm Boy or Spoons - this made sense to her. It was just her sniffing out bullshit, and an ass-beating - Lynn's or Olivia Twist's - results-dependent. Lynn stared at her, loosening up a bit without realizing. She wasn't going to hurt her if she wasn't sure. Was she?

You weren't sure about Salamandra and you -
four people -
just a bottle, one little toss -

She was young. As young as Lynn. Maybe a touch older. Prettier. They all were. Lynn privately wondered if Amelia had gotten while the getting was good, and if Eli had done the same. She thought that maybe the latter of the two would stay, but probably not. It was her in the dark. Behind Arianna, a half dozen yards or so, Lynn thought she saw movement, but supposed it was a trick of the light. Lynn was not quite seeing double - she was sobering up, and fast - but she was still seeing reality a little fuzzier than it truly was. The girl looked hungry. Thin. She was little, like Lynn. Like a little sister, even if she was bigger. She didn't - she wasn't. Salamandra was because she had to, and those four - they were just there, and the people in the houses - but this was different. She couldn't...

Lynn stayed tense - even if this girl was on the level, there was a real good chance someone - or multiple someones - with a badge were going to come through here, and put a bullet in either or both of them for seeing too much. There wasn't much time to make things up. Lynn let her eyes fall to the girl's pants. What had Amelia said? Shovels? This girl certainly wasn't carrying one. And she was too small to be really using one. Strong? Like Natalie? Lynn wasn't sure. She stared at her a moment longer. If they tried to take her after the breakout, she was certainly capable of protecting herself. Why did she have a shovel out here anyway? Unless -

The washed-up corpse.

The breakout.

The woods.

The doll.

Keaton.

If Lynn had been a few decimal points' more drunkenness in her blood, she might not have remembered. She might not have bit back the smile. "I won't let them take you," Lynn said, watching her closely. She moved a step nearer to the girl, close enough that Lynn could lunge and grab her if she had to - Lynn supposed that the same was true, if not more true, for this girl. She certainly looked sober, and Lynn didn't count on her reflexes being as sharp as they should be. This girl grabbing her first was perfectly fine by her. As it was, she had her arms crossed - the second it took to uncross them might even things. Might not. She might be fast. She might be strong. She might get in Lynn's head. She'll have plenty of fuckin' company in there, at least. "We can't stay here." Lynn realized very suddenly she had not had any sort of idea of how to get back to the party, or even what direction went back to the facilities in the Promise. This was deeper into a forest than she had ever been in her lifetime, and Lynn had only one solution for finding a trail in a forest, and it was likely to incur significantly more costs than her job at Vaquero could cover.

"I was one too," Lynn said, pulling back her sleeve, showing off the crude prison tattoos she bore. "No names. It's safer. Cara might be listening," she said, "And she can tell names. But tell me - what was your number?" Lynn dropped her sleeve back down. "Your inmate number here." If she got it right, Lynn would hear her out. If not, there were graves.

The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.

Lynn

"What do you believe everyone is thinking?" the words seemed to float in-between the pond-ripples of drunk thought that were making Lynn's mind murky. The seven words skipped across them all like flat stones across the water, and Lynn had no idea what to say. She hadn't known how to say the confused mess she'd already said, and with the sudden arrival of another person she already felt like she had said too much, like someone had walked in on her naked, like some midnight spell was over and she was back to riding pumpkins pulled by rats. Still, the question hung in her mind. She...she knew what they were thinking. Why did Eli say it like that? Like she was stupid or silly for thinking that, like it was just in her head? It wasn't - it was what they thought, Gennedy and the doctors and Natalie and Archie and Keaton and Amelia and all of them, she could see it in their faces. Lynn didn't understand.

Lynn rubbed at her face for a minute, trying to sort out her thoughts. Puking had made her feel better, and while she was still too groggy to piece it together, igniting - however softly - had helped as well. The two were saying they were going to stay with her, which annoyed her for a reason she could not explain. Then people at the party would wonder what was up, and they would talk, and they would know. The thought rankled Lynn, even in whatever warm fuzziness remained of her earlier good mood. This is probably what I deserve for getting shitfaced to celebrate a dude's death, if we're really being honest here. She swiveled her head to look at Amelia. Bonding? Was that what this was? Lynn had reached her lifetime bonding quota, but felt any comment to that effect would be a Dick Move. They had come out to help her, as much as it annoyed (and confused) her.

Look for the noise? Lynn couldn't hear it - at first. She paused and strained her ears and picked up on it.

There were a great many things Lynn struggled at. Lynn was not skilled at diplomacy even at its most basic forms, and she was not skilled at schoolwork, and she was not skilled at, as some would call it, just chilling the fuck out. All of those were somewhat connected, and somewhat fed off the other, but the last was the one she was the most unskilled at. It was the most double-edged of the things Lynn was bad at, because it had kept Lynn alive in any number of situations - including some recent, reptilian-related ones - but it had caused more than enough problems that I doubt I need to specify.

Regardless, the part of Lynn that was always worried something good was only happening so something worse could interrupt it was never far from the surface. Even half-drowned in tequila, it was simmering, and it rocketed to the front of her mind, screaming at Lynn that it told her so, and that she was a fool, that she should've had her guard up, that now she'd finally die. Cops, Lynn thought at first. Busting the party. Lynn blinked, already on her feet, which were steady beneath her even if the world around her remained a bit wobbly. Lynn listened again, still slower on the draw than the two more sober girls with her. Lynn's mind raced for a moment, and the part of her that could not make the numbers on a math textbook page come together ran through some possibilities.

Lynn stumbled forward, her feet not wanting to lift high enough to clear the roots and branches on the forest, and Lynn bounced from tree trunk to tree trunk, falling into them as she tried to move relatively quickly.

"Alert: Target Within 100 Feet"

In a brief second, a half dozen thoughts flickered across Lynn's mind - a child's doll; Salamandra's head beaten against the side of the restaurant wall, melting and warping in the heat; a mall food court with two faceless men; an interrogation room, a cold steel table with Gennedy twisting the legs; the sight of the Promise with three hundred dead, full of screams and smoke; Keaton. Then, a plan. A wild, half-put-together, drunk plan. But something. Either Amelia runs and it works, or she stays and it works, Lynn thought, hoping there was enough adrenaline running in her to offset the liquor.

Lynn grabbed Amelia's arm and felt sick to her stomach, felt awful, felt like an absolute bitch. She came to help you, you asshole. But Amelia would understand fear and Lynn's brain was too drunk to find better words. Her mind was trying to put together the pieces but she wasn't Keaton, her brain was too slow, and she did not know what the right thing was. "Don't fucking leave alone," Lynn murmured, as quietly as she dared, as forcefully as she could. She knew Amelia was scared back at the station and she could see she was scared now. Lynn hoped she could make her more afraid of her than of the dark. Che taught you really well, didn't he? a little voice wondered. Would you have done this to Megan and Clarita too, if they started slowing you down? Did you? Lynn pushed it down. She could apologize or help Amelia sort shit out later but not if they all died right here. If Arianna hadn't seen the two of them yet there was a chance. "Stay with Eli like she fucking owes you money. If shit..." Lynn stopped, her stomach rolling over. "If shit hits the fan, go away fast. Find - " Lynn almost said Keaton but caught herself. There was a good, good chance that Arianna was looking for blood, and if so, Keaton needed to stay far the fuck away from here. She was the only one who knew. "Just go." Lynn had always viewed forests as oversized matchboxes. She would be alright alone, unless Arianna was a nullifier, in which case none of it mattered anyway. At least there will be trees over me, Lynn thought before she could force the useless thought out of her mind. It seemed that night as if her thoughts were bordered in velvet instead of iron, and it was starting to piss her off.

One hundred feet. That was so fucking close. Lynn staggered forward a few more steps, cursing her feet for being as noisy as they were. She grabbed onto Eli and clamped a mouth over her hand from behind - or tried to. Eli was taller. A lot taller. Lynn settled for whispering, "It's me. Go invisible right fucking now. Get to Amelia. Don't let her leave without you." Lynn paused, mind whirring as best it could. "Everything. Smell, sight, sound, get rid of it all. Amelia too."

Lynn stepped around Eli and moved forward as quickly as she dared, her mind still racing. There was - there was a way, she thought, maybe, to bring Arianna out of hiding. But it would mean saying things that Amelia and Eli would not be able to unhear. Lynn tripped and fell, fuming figuratively and literally. They'll think I can't handle my shit, Lynn cursed, standing back up and moving forward. I need them to go. I can't - four is too many I can't have six, and if I have to burn the forest down it could be - fuck, just get her and go, Amelia.

As best as Lynn's dizzy mind could tell, she'd put a good fifteen feet between her and Eli. Lynn stood up and gave herself a drunken moment to be pissed off at this, at the fact the odds were good she'd be alone in these damned woods bare-ass naked in a matter of minutes, maybe with Eli and Amelia watching, and then let the heat roll off her. In the dark woods, Lynn's hair was the only light for a hundred yards, blue, then orange, then yellow, then gold. She looked around, a hint of smoke reaching her nose, whose scar was deep and dark in the firelight. Lynn couldn't see shit beyond wherever her light cast, her eyes watering and smarting from the sudden light, but hopefully the same applied to Arianna. She could feel a sensation she had not felt before which was supremely unpleasant, which was the alcohol inside her stomach roiling in the heat and threatening to ignite. As Lynn drew on her powers more, her regeneration started to work, but she would not be fully sober for a while. As it was, Lynn swayed as she stood, and the world swayed with her. She tried to think of everything she missed but she knew her mind was not what she needed it to be. I need to talk to this bitch alone...but Eli won't leave unless Amelia makes her, and I need them to not get involved. Had Amelia said she was noisy when she teleports? Lynn couldn't remember, and what made it all that much harder to manage was the quiet voice reminding her of the way her nose felt when Salamandra's elbow broke it open, when she knocked a tooth clean from her jaw, when she'd flipped her to the floor. You had nothing to eat today, the voice whispered. And there is no lizard around to save you.

Lynn stood, moving in a circle as much as she dared to keep from being a completely sitting duck, but she wanted her to know where she was. "Oy," Lynn said into the dark, the shovel noises stopped - if that's what they were. Lynn wasn't convinced. "I want to talk to you," she said, letting the forest eat up her the soft slur of her words. Let's see what kind of person she is, Lynn thought. "I know who you are, and you know about me." Lynn could hear Salamandra's voice in her hear, sharp and laughing, that she didn't know who the fuck Lynn was, but that was good too, because it meant she and Keaton were under the radar, and that this bitch wasn't in league with Gennedy. And if she did know and wanted to talk, then maybe Lynn and Keaton were onto something.

And if she stepped out of the woods and put a .44 round in Lynn's chest, that would tell Keaton something too. Lynn wasn't a coward but she didn't like this shit, just standing and waiting.

The dark stretched on and on around her. "I'm waiting," Lynn said. There was too much she didn't know here. Too much her fuzzy brain couldn't figure out. Damnit, why can't I be Keaton, Lynn thought. Whatever I missed she wouldn't have.

The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.

Lynn

There was only one steady thing in this world and it was the tree behind her. And the ground. That was two things. Were they one thing? Maybe they were all one thing. oh God I'm one of those drunks Lynn thought, trying to blink the dizziness away. She rolled the flower over in her hand, focusing on how soft the petals felt to distract her from the tipsy-topsy-turvy mess that was her stomach. Somewhere, like a single ray of sunshine in-between a sky of storm clouds, a lone sober thought broke through to the front of Lynn's mind: I think I should've eaten dinner before this.

Lynn focused on taking deep breaths. Before the Promise, she'd been better at this. She could just beat back whatever was lurking around in the back of her mind. Che or all the homes - heh Holmes - or the trial. No matter how many times, each time the trial crossed her mind it stung just as badly as the day it'd happened. For a minute, her black t-shirt was a scratchy orange jumpsuit, her neck tight against the cold steel. Lynn shook her head like a dog and it went away. But here at the Promise it was like it was all right there under the surface just waiting. The cafeteria was just pain in her shoulder and looking down and seeing a butcher knife in her knee, or every time she walked into the Vaquero's kitchen she remembered - vaporized - or coming into the woods she saw that body with all the scars and that reminded her how close she was, if any of them, Gennedy or Radvi or any of them, if they found out. They brought her on the Promise strapped to a chair, and she had a feeling she was ending her time here the same way.

There was movement to her left and Lynn was too slow to react - fuck, fuck, she was too slow, she was going to get her, she hadn't killed her, she'd made it out the restaurant and - Lynn blinked. It was Eli. Lynn clumsily raised a hand and grunted for a minute, letting her skin glow and fill the few feet around her with soft light, the shadows dancing as her hair changed colors. Something in the alcohol had dampened whatever kept Lynn on such a hair trigger, and the heat was pleasant in the artificial autumn air. The forest was pleasant at night, if a bit spooky. It smelled like the real world out here, not like some squeaky clean lie up in the stars. Lynn hadn't ever got to play around in forests, growing up in the city. She had to leave Earth to see this many trees. Lynn stared up at Eli with woozy yellow eyes. "Eli?" Lynn slurred. She could hear the slur in her own voice which meant she was probably slurring like fifteen times worse. well it's not like they thought i was a rocket scientist before Her voice was full of surprise. She hadn't...why had Eli come? And with a bottle of water? Was she trying to dowse her? That wasn't enough water to - oh. She wanted to help. Well that was nice.

Lynn fumbled with the bottle's cap for a minute, smacking back more bottle memories and taking a sip. It helped wash away the acidic taste in her throat. "Thanks," Lynn mumbled, swaying a bit. Eli was close to her. Just kneeling. She didn't have one hand casually by her belt or one ready to grab her. She was just there. Eli was being really nice. Eli didn't look at her the way the others had, like she was just one wrong word away from killing them. That was what Lynn wanted, you know, so they wouldn't fuck with her, but it - she didn't - this was nice, was all. "Some other fire para threw up over there so you should watch out," Lynn said, hoping for humor and unsure if any of the words were intelligible. Lynn sipped again on the water and looked at Eli for a minute. It was kinda hard to look at much else since the corners of her vision were a bit dark and most certainly blurry. At least the ground was soft, and there were lots of flowers. She was nice. Keaton was nice too but Keaton was really smart and there was - well Lynn didn't blame her, because Lynn didn't fully trust Keaton either, and she didn't trust Eli, she'd only just met her, but Lynn thought someone who could fuck with your mind was going to be a terrible person and Eli wasn't, and she'd known enough fake snakes to know the difference, and -

"Eli," Lynn said quietly, her head too full of noise for any one thought to get through. This was a terrible idea but Lynn did not care. Continuing to breathe on this damned station was a terrible idea. There was a block in her throat she had to push past but once she did the dam just split and all the alcohol-thoughts came out in a slurred whisper as quiet as Lynn could manage, like maybe if she spoke quiet enough it wouldn't be true. "Eli I...Eli you shouldn't be nice to me, I..." Lynn's words slipped off for a minute. _four "Eli I had to...there wasn't...she was gonna kill me if I hadn't, or do something to Archie, but...but I don't think that's why I did it, I think I..." the words came spilling out like a jug that burst in half a dozen different places and Lynn couldn't keep track of which stream came from where. "This place is fucking evil, they're doing shit, they...I - I can't sleep, there's...I just wanted to get fucked up for one night to celebrate 'cause of Gary, and not think about - then he had to bring her here and - I didn't mean to burn him, he grabbed me and I - and everybody thinks I just...fuck just go back to the party, I don't want to ruin it, I'm fine, I-"

There was noise Gennedy and Lynn flinched back against the tree. Had she been less inebriated, she might've notice the scrape on her neck as a result. It slowly stitched itself back up. It was Amelia. She hadn't heard, Lynn didn't think. No...no chance. She was speaking so softly. you're so drunk you probably weren't even speaking English anyway. She thought an iron ball had been dropped in her thoughts and dragged her drunk back down to reality. Shut the fuck up right now, you idiot. She's one of them. She'll tell her friend Radvi or tell Keaton you're fucking losing it and then they'll lock you up. Amelia or Nat will snitch. That one with the Rolex would just shoot you. They'll put the needle in you. Lynn took a sip of the water. That doll wasn't far from here when I found it. Amelia was trying to be nice. Maybe. Lynn didn't know what Amelia was doing sober let alone drunk. she's getting a kick out of this I bet. at least she doesn't look scared anymore. Even Lynn's pride was not so great as to admit this was probably pretty funny for them. At least she wouldn't remember it. "You can only fuck my hair back if you hold me." Lynn frowned. "No, shit. Damnit. That would've been funny. Shit." she sipped at the water again. "Thanks for the water," Lynn murmured. "I'm okay, though, you guys can go back to the party. I think I - " Lynn coughed for a minute, a false alarm of a dry heave passing as quickly as it came. "I think I could sober up pretty fast but I would probably set some stuff on fire if I did that. I got bitchslapped by the lizard I'm not gonna die from some - " Lynn burped, pausing. Nope. She was good. "Some tequila." She paused, swaying. "I mean it was a lot of tequila. But whatever." she sat back, the bark of the tree more comfortable than any chair in recent memory. The tree was solid. The tree was good. Lynn didn't fully realize she was doing it, but she shifted one of her legs to the left, leaning it against Eli. Eli felt warm. Eli was solid and good too.

The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.

Lynn

Lynn was not sure if her thoughts or her body or her eyes or her head started spinning first, but they all followed one after the other in a drunken shuffle. Somewhere, vaguely, the memory of fumbling with the pill bottle cap earlier in the day came to mind, and Lynn couldn't remember eating today, and she hadn't slept, she didn't think. She had bad dreams when she did sleep. She was in a restaurant, most of the time, or sometimes she was back in juvy, or sometimes just in grade school. So she stayed awake.

Amelia was talking. Leather jacket. Lynn blinked and opened her mouth, looking for words a minute before they came to her. She wanted to know why she drank at ten. He said it'd make you not afraid, Lynn wanted to say, but the last fumbling sober neurons were able to wrangle her mouth shut before she could talk. They wouldn't get it, Lynn realized. They'd just have questions and Lynn didn't want to answer questions, she didn't have the answers, they'd want to know who was Che and why she did stuff and why she was ten. Around her the music was loud and everything was picking up, movement and conversations Lynn couldn't keep track of. "'Cause I flinched," Lynn mumbled, not sure who she was speaking to. "I broke the bottle, I wasn't supposed to..." she blinked. Quiet. one half of her said. But it's true, the other half of her said back, blearily. I was supposed to throw the bottle but I got scared when I saw it light up.

Rolex came over. He was tick-tocking along. That was how you knew he was a fake. Lynn giggled at that. No, he didn't seem fake. Lynn swayed back and forth a bit, eyeing him over. He's fidgety, Lynn thought. Maybe it's his first party. But that didn't seem right. Lynn had a few instincts ingrained so deeply not even her drunkenness could make her forget them. She'd learned in a number of less-than-safe environments to look and see the way somebody carried themselves. You could see someone's tolerance for taking shit and their capability to dish it out and whether or not they'd ever seen something so fucked up it left scars on their eyes you could see every time they blinked. Lynn could see all that on him. He probably needs the party...he should get drunk too. Lynn felt Eli's eyes on her and she smiled, giggling again. The part of Lynn that would've noticed Eli was looking at her scars and counting them off in her head was struggling to keep its head above the alcohol that flooded her brain. Lynn just saw Eli smiling at her. Then she was introducing Fish and setting Fish up with Cara. She said some other words that Lynn missed, her eyes were closed and she thought her ears closed off for a second, too. When she opened them both Eli had called Lynn her friend, which made her turn back and stare, confused as the cigarette curled smoke up out of her mouth.

Friends? Lynn thought, and suddenly it was there again, that visegrip around her gut and throat that seemed to curl up around her, tighter and tighter. No, Lynn wanted to say. We can't be friends, that's bad, that's not it but Eli was also smiling and Lynn's brain couldn't put those two things together and make them fit.

Lynn's head swiveled over to Lucy and her denim jacket, which looked really snug and cozy. Lucy did two more jello shots and Lynn grinned wider, happy that she looked so happy, because they never looked happy, not with all the investigating and everything else that was going on. Lynn could see that she was wearing masks, though, because she got serious when Amelia asked about the story, and she was looking at Fish but it was a different smile than the ones she'd seen before. Lynn started to ask why she was smiling so differently, and she could smile just one way if she just drank more. Lynn turned and saw Archie and Nat and felt her stomach twist like the knotted ends in her hair and wrinkle like the ones in her shirt she couldn't seem to press flat. Archie looked good. He was tall and broad and Lynn wondered how strong you got working on boats because Archie looked strong. Her eyes swam over to Natalie who looked beautiful, awfully terribly beautiful. Something in Lynn wanted to shake and rage, wanted to scream. I got my shoulder fucked for you, Lynn wanted to shout. And almost got the needle when you called or the freezer or...

There was a part of Lynn that could still function competently and it dragged her eyes back to Archie, the light burns on his hand why did you grab me why the fuck did you grab me from behind i didn't know i wouldn't have done it and his eyes, very blue eyes mine are blue sometimes too, just not now. His eyes were looking everywhere, and Lynn followed them to the curves on Eli's jeans and the dimples on Lucy's face and Natalie's stupid fucking beautiful dress and not...they didn't...I can't help it, Lynn wanted to say, looking up. I was supposed to be tall and pretty but I'm not. I could keep you safe, they can't do that, I wouldn't let...she's wearing heels it's not fair...nobody taught me how to do makeup like hers or I would...I'm a good fucking person you shouldn't have grabbed me, why did you grab me, I don't want to burn you... Lynn's thoughts seemed to bounce and ripple apart like someone had dropped a rock into a pond, hitting the curve of the inside of her skull and bouncing back looking like something new.

Lynn fumbled to get the cigarette from her mouth to take a drink but her cup was empty. "Fuck," she murmured, blinking. She turned and Archie's heart rate monitor was beeping and before Lynn could drop her things and grab him, and keep the lizard from coming out like she had when they found the body, Rolex was there, stepping up. Lynn opened her mouth to ask if he was okay, if she could help, but she closed it.

Lynn turned back to Keaton, grabbing the tequila bottle firmly. Amelia was still there.

Do you wanna know? Lynn wanted to say, but she couldn't screw open the bottle and talk at once, she didn't spill bottles any more. You had to focus and hold them tight. There was a house across the street from where they parked, but they weren't where they'd parked. They were in a little alley off to the side and Lynn was shivering, grabbing at her face, at the bridge of her nose.

"Che...Che did I...am I gonna be ugly? Am I gonna be..."

"Shut her the fuck up."

"Che I didn't mean to - "

Che kneeled down, hushing the man next to him. Lynn didn't know who he was, but she'd heard he was from Out West, and that maybe he was a Fire Wyrm. Che cursed, holding the last bottle in his hands, stuffing the rag further down into the opening. The smells were strong and harsh, kerosene and alcohol and of course iron, but that last one was from her. "You told me you could do this," he said, and even then Lynn could tell there was iron in his voice, too, and it was because the other man had more iron in his voice, and there was going to be something bad if Che couldn't do what he said he would do, and it was because Lynn couldn't do it. Lynn didn't want to be the one who couldn't do things. She was gonna get transferred because she couldn't read as good, but Che was still her friend. But if she fucked this up then maybe he wouldn't be.

"I thought I could," Lynn said, reaching up for the glass wedged at the bridge of her nose but Che pushed her hand aside. "I thought...you didn't say there were people inside...that it was..."

"Shut her up before one of them hears," the other man muttered. Half the hair on his face was singed off, and both his eyebrows. Che had only lost the hair on his arms, and gotten a nasty gash from part of the glass. _{amelia called me molotov that day at the bench when nat was reading her stupid book before we found the dead body and i was in the hospital}

Che turned back to her and pressed the bottle into her hands. He pulled out a flask from his back pocket and handed it to her. "She can fucking do it." He turned to Lynn. "Drink this. It makes you not scared. After, you go home and it's just like a bad dream."

Lynn nodded and did, coughing and wheezing at the taste, but Che cupped a hand over her mouth and she didn't spit any out. "It hurts," Lynn said, her back to the brick wall.

"It has to be you to throw it," Che said. He stared into her eyes and when he did that sometimes she couldn't look away no matter how badly she wanted to. She knew it had to be her to throw it, because she could make things burn, like the house last year, she hadn't meant to, she'd just tried to play with one of the Christmas candles and it had gotten so big so fast, but this was diferent. This wasn't playing. "If you don't, Clarita and Megan are gonna die. I'm gonna die too. And then you're gonna die. Is that what you want?"

"No," Lynn said sniffling, because the glass hurt, it hurt really bad, but she knew you weren't supposed to cry, because then people knew it was easy to make you cry and they did it more, and Che wouldn't like her, "I...I don't want anybody to..."

Lynn jerked the bottle back. She'd poured too much into Keaton's glass. She could feel Archie standing there, just a few feet away, and maybe the lizard would come out and maybe he wouldn't, Lynn didn't care, she was just small, smaller than everybody else here, and she couldn't - fuck. Fuck all of this. She shouldn't have come. "I gotta go, uh," Lynn said, the words refusing to come together smoothly. Fuck, she just needed an excuse, a simple excuse, "Piss, yeah. Hold it for me," Lynn said, handing it off to someone, she couldn't remember their name - Jack? Fish? - and she stepped away from the circle, feeling the campfire grow smaller and lonely behind her as she stumbled off into the woods. Lynn kept herself steady until she was a good ten or twelve yards into the treeline then she picked up the pace, tripping over roots and branches and every other fucking thing in these stupid woods. Lynn kept going until she couldn't hear the sounds of the party, stopping at a tree.

Lynn grabbed onto the trunk and retched, and retched, and retched. She held herself there for a minute or two, gasping and wheezing, then stepped back. The dirt under her feet felt soft and shifted under her feet. Then again, everything was shifting. Lynn found a different tree and sat/fell down, leaning back against the trunk and feeling her whole body anchor steady to that solidity. She was on something soft. Flowers. Lynn picked some up, rolling them over in her hands. They were pretty for a moment or two, until she remembered. Flowers just cover up the smell of how full of shit some people are, Lynn thought, lifting one up to her eyes. She grunted and let the light and heat dance back across her hair and down her arms and legs, and watched smoke curl up off the petals. She'd have to hurl again in a minute, but this was fine for now.

The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.

LynN

Lynn zoned out for a moment when Amelia was speaking, which was likely a very fortuitous thing, as her inebriated mind may have slipped up and made an uncouth comment about what laying low entailed and perhaps what the ramifications of such a course of action were for others in the group. Instead, she looked at everybody's shoes, and noticed how markedly smaller hers were than everyone else's. Eli and Amelia were introducing themselves, which felt strange to Lynn. It felt like some heavy, cold thing that threatened to rip through the little fragile house of cards Lynn's good mood tap-danced on top of, and she couldn't explain why. Lynn wanted to put herself between Eli and Amelia (yo! Amelia's name already has Eli in it, what the fuck)and ask some questions to disrupt this, whatever it was, but before her mind had formulated a plan to make this happen Amelia had turned things back to Lynn. Fuck, this was more thinking than she wanted tonight. Lynn drank some more. "How hard did I pregame?" Lynn asked. "I just don't drink like a pussy," she said back, grinning. She was joking. Were her jokes good? People liked her more tonight than normal. Maybe they'd like her jokes. Lynn was surprised at her first beverage. She would've figured it was something nicer. As she looked down at her poor man's Jack and Coke, Lynn noticed the edge of the cup was swimming a bit in her vision. About time.

Eli called her bossy. That made Lynn grin. Was she bossy? Lynn had never heard that before. She started to say that she didn't talk to enough people to be bossy but someone had changed the subject and the line was gone from Lynn's mind and her mouth at once, forgotten. As Lynn watched Eli speak, her mind was split between the girl's words and everything else about her. Lynn's normal doubts about whether or not a housebroken para like Eli could be really trusted beyond getting dinner together - if Keaton was getting Eli in on the operation so they could stab Lynn in the back - seemed to melt away. Lynn's hair slowly and softly stopped dancing with color and settled down to a dull auburn. To someone not paying close attention, it would seem that she perhaps had some splotchy highlights put in, ones which changed color every few minutes, but far more slowly than they did before. It was messier and unkempt this way, full of split ends and a tangle or two. Lynn's skin lost a bit of its glow, and the radiant heat around the girl dimmed down. Eli invited Rolex over, which was good. Lynn would've butchered it if she'd done it. Eli drank at fourteen? Younger than she was expecting, but Lynn giggled. "Whiskey! That's real shit." She followed Eli's eyes over to two people making out, and the same strange feeling from before seemed to well up in Lynn. I could be doing that, Lynn thought, and in her mind, even her thoughts seemed to slur. No you couldn't, said another, and it wrenched her eyes back to the conversation before the sight of Maddy - _tall - threatened to twist her mood any more than it already had. Lynn turned back and saw something in Eli's face. Lynn was not sure if she could have articulated what she saw, because doing so would have meant having to explain how she saw it. It was what Lynn had just felt, that feeling of trying desperately to stomp out a roach and being afraid to lift up your foot in case it's alive and still scurries away. she had a bad time Lynn thought, staring at Eli has she swayed a bit. i had a bad time too. She used her powers to catch their attention without making a racket and Lynn stared in awe. that's so fucking cool, she thought, looking down at her own hands. she could do anything and nobody would have to know what she was.

Keaton. Denim. Lynn liked Keaton's denim. And Amelia's jacket. And...maybe also Eli's denim. fuck were we wearing denim? She stumbled through the day's events trying to remember if someone had said that or not. No, they hadn't. She'd gone back to her dorm after work after getting the tequila because Cara told her that GARY WAS FUCKING DEAD and there had been no mention of denim not once. Not once at all. Lynn wasn't out of the loop. Unless they said something to each other and didn't say it to her? why would they do that? Lynn thought. Two more people came from the edge of the clearing and Lynn felt the cards all go bust before the house came tipsy-tumbling down. It was Archie and Natalie. "She looks really pretty," Lynn murmured. And heels. And her makeup was fucking perfect. Lynn turned away and finished the rest of her drink, a tinge of blue ink-splotting out messily from the roots of her hair and base of her irises. archie didn't show his other hand Lynn thought, the sort of thought that picked the knocked-down cards off the floor and ripped them apart. There was something sharp and sudden in Lynn's stomach and she thought for a brief, sobering moment she was going to hurl but it passed. I burned Gary's hand too just like Archie's. Lynn tried not to think about Archie. Just don't. Just don't. if he comes over to talk just find a reason to leave go get more liquor or food or just say you have to pee it doesn't matter just get away

Lynn struggled to stack the cards back up before they were all shredded. Keaton. She turned to Keaton who was like a denim fucking anchor right now in Lynn's head. Keaton smiled when she looked at Lynn sometimes. And sometimes, Lynn's alcohol-slogged mind thought, it was the smirk or the condescending smile or all those other ones she'd seen so many times, the we're reviewing your case as fast as we can smile or the we think you'd be a great candidate for the Promise smile, but there were Lucy smiles too, and sometimes like now it was one of those smiles, and that made Lynn smile, and she wondered if Keaton could tell what kind of smiles Lynn had, and if Keaton even understood the difference. "Good drinking," Lynn said instead, watching Keaton crush another jello shot like a champ. Sophomore year? Lynn almost wanted to laugh. She hadn't even made it through that much high school, let alone drinking. if i kissed keaton right now that would be fucking hilarious i bet fish would flip flop out of his own scales And that was only a year ago for Lynn, so it felt funny to imagine. Lynn saw it on Keaton's face too, for a second, something sad. something bad happened sophomore year Lynn realized. She blinked and turned to Eli, the world turning a half second after her eyes did. maybe that's why they're getting along so well because they both had something bad happen Lynn decided she was doing to do something really really nice for Keaton. She didn't know what. But she told it to herself a half dozen times or so, so that in the morning she'd remember and she could do it.

Lynn grinned wide at Keaton's question, too drunk to think through the words that came stumbling out. "Hah! I have all you guys beat by a shitton. My first drink was when I was ten. Whiskey, like Eli." Lynn absentmindedly reached a spare hand to the bridge of her nose, rubbing at the scar across it. "It was 'cause I messed up his - " she blinked. Fish came swimming! Fish had like six names now, though, and Lynn could not remember any of them. She frowned. There was definitely something important about watches she was supposed to have remembered too, but that was long gone. Oh go figure, though. The one time Lynn managed to bring someone into a conversation and they don't speak fucking English. Lynn looked at Gen for a minute and sighed. "Don't worry," she said, reaching into her bag. "I have something for the language barri-" she paused, cocking her head and needing to try once or twice. "berry, bear...barrier, she said, handing Gen the handle. "It's like Mexican sake, Fish," she said. "Zack." She frowned. Why would you choose Zack? You could've been anything. Lynn would've picked a way more badass name, like a big movie star, or a boxer, or _Salamandra. Lynn tensed for a second and looked around the party, but the alcohol seemed to have numbed her enough that by the time the panic had started to set in her brain had confirmed Salamandra wasn't there. _{she's dead like gary and you killed her}. Lynn fumbled into her back pocket, holding her cup between her teeth, and drew out a pack of cigarettes.

"Anybody want one?" she asked, muffled, holding her empty cup in the crook of her arm as she put the cigarette to her teeth. Normally the phoenix was right there, right under the surface, but she thought it had gone to sleep now. Lynn struck her thumbnail against the cigarette like a strike-anywhere match and nothing happened. "Whiskey dick," Lynn muttered quietly, as if she wasn't aware she was speaking at all. The cigarette had her full focus for a few moments, which was the part of alcohol Lynn really liked. There weren't so many thoughts _{tall // Salamandra // four dead // Che // she's so pretty // molotov //} then and it was easier to just focus. "Heh always something to do with whiskey." Lynn finally got the cigarette to light and took a puff, noticing that for once it was burning down at a normal rate. i save so much money when i drink and no buildings have been destroyed today either. i should do this more often

The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.

Lynn

The warm was coming. It had been a while since Lynn was drunk like this - despite any scientific evidence to the contrary, Lynn was a firm believer that different alcohols induced different drunks. The last time Lynn had been inebriated was in a prison cell, and perhaps owing to that less than illustrious ambiance, it was not the most enjoyable of wine sipping sessions she'd ever had. Tequila had always been a standby, and tequila on an occasion such as this even more so - the fire danced beside her, flickering brighter and bolder with Lynn's arrival, but not dangerously so. The girl's mood was flickering with it, something happy and warm and dancing, and the lanterns almost seemed to pull to her. The sparks of the campfire disproportionately fluttered to her hair rather than the ground or the open air, no matter where Lynn walked in the little clearing. The tequila from earlier was starting to seep in now, like a big fluffiness that dripped from her head down to her words and thoughts.

"Shots!" Lynn said, her teeth flashing. The first time kids have enjoyed shots on this station, huh? Lynn wanted to say, but this was a party, and the disaster was - three hundred dead five of them yours, all yours, all - not what people talked about at parties. Lynn had never really been to a proper party before. She'd been to hangouts, or places where everyone was drinking together, but it wasn't an occasion like this, if that made sense. She was enjoying it. She was vibing it. Had she been noticing the clothes on Eli or Keaton before, the way their jackets hung off the shoulders that stood what felt like half a foot taller than hers? Lynn couldn't remember.

Lynn followed her and Keaton to the table, a slack grin hanging on her face, a stray strand of hair leaning down over her pale forehead. Someone else joined up and it took Lynn a brief moment to remember her. Amelia, Lynn thought. She thought she could see her look afraid for just a minute, but coming up and talking was such an anti-bitch move, a really unexpectedly anti-bitch move coming from her. Lynn stared at her for a second - or maybe five - but Lynn wasn't upset. She would've cattle-branded her with the back of her hand a month ago, but if Amelia had snitched, Gennedy would've put the needle in her weeks ago. He had ample opportunities. No, Amelia had stumbled across something she hadn't, and when things went to hell on the station, she stayed snuggly and cozy in the station. Lynn could understand that. It made Amelia a bit of a coward, but coward was several orders of magnitudes above snitch in the Cordelia Lynn Holmes' caste system. There was a part of Lynn, slithering out from the cracks in her brain loosened apart by liquor, that thought Clarita was probably about Amelia's age by now, and that was about her age by now, and -

"Didn't know I'd be here either," Lynn said, grinning. Was she grinning a lot? Who cared. "People winding up in all sorts of places these days," Lynn said, giggling slightly. Lots of places, all over the place today. I know a guy who's in about a dozen different places right now, and a lady who is too! Gary and Arianna, wouldn't they be a dream...Gary-anna...heh Besides, there were a few people not here that was fine by Lynn. Today was a good day. Nobody was going to fuck that up. Not Amelia, or Gennedy, or the lizard, or nobody. Not nobody at all. "Teleport this shit into your liver," Lynn said, grabbing a jello shot and passing it - possibly warmed - to Amelia. She'd been silly to worry about a set-up or something. There was so much alcohol here nobody would dare try to fuck with her. It felt fun, to be safe. Warm and laughing and it tasted like tequila. Lynn liked it.

"More the merrier!" Lynn said back to Keaton. "Like reindeer." She looked at the edge of the woods where one guy was walking up like a walk-on to the 1976 Saigon chopper gunners b-team. Jesus. He needed some liquor in him. Not super tall. Of course that was relative to Lynn. Big ol' rolex on his wrist. That'd buy a lot more tequila, Lynn thought. Easy mark, too, he came here alone. Lynn frowned. No, she forgot this was the Promise. He could probably see the future or something. Besides, she was already toeing the illegality line with buying liquor under the table and buying Xanax a few dozen feet under where she bought liquor. Lynn blinked, brow furrowing for a brief moment. Had she had some today? She took some to help her sleep, but had that been this morning or the night before?

"I'll leave one on the table," Lynn said in magnanimous compromise. "The other stays with me, under the table." Lynn looked up at Keaton. She was pretty. She wasn't that much taller than Lynn, really, which Lynn found comforting. Older, though. She was skinny but the good kind. Normally these things would've jabbed at Lynn's state of mind like hornets but tonight they were bees and they stung once and snapped off. No more buzz. Lynn was buzzed. Buzzing. Buzz. Keaton was staring at it and Lynn could tell her Sherlock shit was going looney tunes. Didn't she ever not overthink things? Lynn would have to help her with that sometime, she resolved. "Hey, Denim," Lynn said, "Stop trying to do calculus on it and just drink." Lynn ran a pinky along the rim of the jello cup and then squeezed it out into her mouth. "Ah, love jello. Used to have it all the time." Half true, Lynn thought. I always gave it to Megan when it came at lunches, but I guess I did HAVE it. Keaton still looked all wound up, like if somebody had cross-stitched a picture of an angry person with chain mail. I'll get her tipsy, Lynn said. Dead girls oughta have a little fun. But it was hard to remember they were dead tonight - increasingly hard - and Lynn was enjoying it. She looked back to Eli, who was older too. How long had she been on the Promise? How much shit had gone down? A quiet voice wondered how many fights she'd seen, or how many people _{she'd seen die in four years, or four weeks, or four people} or more of these dances. Denzel would know how to shop for stuff, Lynn thought, looking over her for a moment. Or even Amelia, fuck. What was her nickname? I can't call her Amelia. If Denim and Denzel got married their name would be Denzel. Garriana. Heh. Lynn scanned around again, where Beth or whatever Eli's friend was flirting with some dude, which made Lynn frown for a second. Then she looked back and shadow guy was still in the shadows doing shadow shit. If he was like ten feet further back I could have that Rolex, she thought. "Did you guys know fake Rolexes tick?" Lynn said idly to the group, looking around. "And - " she grinned wider, like a shark that's seen a "Fish!" Lynn shouted. "Splish splash your ass over here," she said, spotting the ethnic unicorn prince-prancing over to the treeline. I should make a funny joke about his parents later, Lynn thought. There's so many, Lynn thought, And the best part is he can't get me back. She was absentmindedly swirling the tequila bottle in her hand. If one's cards were entirely on the table, Lynn's would reveal that she was hoping this guy would trip and fall again on the walk over. Or just to mess with him. He seemed pretty reclusive when she'd tried to help him put his teeth back in his mouth on that treadmill. Holing up in his shell. Like a turtle. Turtle fish. Turtle Fish.

Christ, if Rolex stood in the dark any longer he was going to buy a trench coat and start flashing them. Wouldn't that be fitting for today. Nice of somebody to invite Gary! Lynn wondered if she should invite him over. No, she thought. I'm bad with people. "Hey," Lynn said, nudging Eli's forearm with the top of her head. She left a faint smudge of ash. "Somebody wth more, whatever, like, charm or shit should go tell tall dark and blandsome to come take a shot and start talking to people." She unscrewed the tequila and took another pull. "Any of you three qualify." Lynn looked at him for a minute longer. This one is a male Spoons, she determined. No eye contact. Military jacket? Not as a para. Probably his grandpa from Vietnam or something. Everybody's grandpa fought in Vietnam. A...Forks. Lynn looked back up. Keaton was watching her a bit, as was Eli. Like they were waiting for something. I'm not the one who PMS'es into a crocodile, damnit, she wanted to say, but talking about him was not what she felt particularly inclined to do right now. She wasn't sure what else they'd be looking at her for. Like, worried, almost. Did they think she couldn't handle her liquor? I was drinking before you bitches went bra shopping, Lynn also contemplated. And before I went bra shopping. Which still hasn't hapened, so, you know. Whatever. Lynn sipped again. "I'm gonna grab a beer," Lynn said, putting the tequila in Deaton's arms before meandering over to the table and searching for anything she recognized. Wine. Who drank wine? She picked up the bottle and examined the label. Malbec. From Argentina. She put it down. There was a long list of things she did not want to think about tonight and they consisted mostly of Lizard Boat, Salamandra, the station, Gennedy, anything that wasn't the alcohol in front of her, and Che. She would accept topical conversation about Fish's latest mile times and estimates on how many shots she could do, which Lynn intended to disprove entirely. The rest of the alcohol was weird. There was hard seltzer, and while Lynn had said she didn't want to fight tonight, she felt vaguely obligated to slap whoever drank that, and there was vodka, which was at least acceptable, and some Jack Daniel's, which was cool.

"Oh, sweet," Lynn thought, seeing Fireball. Lynn grabbed a plastic cup, frowning. "Damnit," she muttered. She searched for a tray of pot brownies someone had brought, grabbing the aluminum foil that covered it and wrapping the base of the cup in it. Then she poured a mix of ice and Coke and Fireball together and swirling it for a moment. "Why the fuck did I bother with ice?" Lynn thought said, turning back to the group. She didn't feel as weird about how many people here she didn't know before. There were boys, too. For a sudden minute a thought smashed through all the dance-happy haze, that thought being that Lynn could kiss anyone here she wanted. She could grab them by the hand and pull them into the forest and forget all the fuck about the Promise tonight. Lynn would've stomped that thought out with a size six and a half steel toed boot any other night. Tonight it was intriguing. Like Fireball.

Lynn walked back. "So, what was everybody's first drink? And when?" Lynn asked. This was how people made conversation, right? She didn't know what to talk about with these people. Delinzel was into Vietnamese food and Keaton sometimes just like thought too much so Lynn didn't know what to say. Why bother, when the other person's just smarter? I should get her dumbfuck drunk, Lynn thought. She blinked, realizing she'd swayed slightly. Heh. Race to the bottom.

The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.

LYNN

DENEM: Campground by the forest. Eli’s waiting

Lynn snapped the phone shut, leaning back against the door of her room. Something about her was prickled by that, something she could not fully identify. A part of her thought this might be a set-up - after all, the no cameras of the woods cut both ways, and with the commotion of Homecoming, it would be a while before anyone noticed two missing teenagers. A part of Lynn considered not going, of barring the door shut with her desk chair and enjoying a small lake's reserve of tequila by herself, not risking any mutilation by lizard claws or elbows to the nose or having to blow herself through the wall of a kitchen again.

But the rest of her knew the opposite was true - if she squirreled away and this wasn't a sting, she was going to look like a bitch, especially after she gave her word she'd be there. And looking like a bitch was worse than looking dead. Lynn dropped her bag on the bed and reread the message one more time. Eli - well, Lynn called her Denzel - was alright, but she was a bit confused. Why were they out there? This had to be some kind of party? That tracked. Lynn ran herself through the scenarios and was able to talk herself down from the nerve-jump jitters she'd worked herself up to a moment ago. It's just a party, Lynn told herself. And if it's a sting, you will turn that campground into fucking Nagasaki with all the liquor in your bag.

Lynn took off her work clothes, markedly turning away from the Promise-issued mirror in her room as she did so. Lynn threw the apron, black jeans and t-shirt into the corner, yanking the no-slip tennis shoes off and throwing them still tied to the other side. Lynn went to throw on normal clothes but paused for a moment. Through the window (which Lynn kept shuttered, and slathered with a thin film of vaseline, so as to detect intrusion) she could hear the roaring music of the whole station set to party. The pretty dresses. The make-up. The glimpse of the patrons in the front of house she'd seen had all been dolled up too.

Lynn walked over to her dresser and opened it up with a grunt. Of course they'd given her the one that jammed. It had only been a week and a half ago she had actually put her clothes away in the dresser as opposed to living out of her duffel bag. Excepting the last year and a half of her life, it had been a while since she'd been in one spot long enough to really really settle. Lynn rummaged through her things. "Fuck," she muttered, remembering. The mall. Damn him, she thought, thinking of Archie inviting them, Archie grabbing her, Archie making a butcher's fuckery of the whole afternoon. She'd meant to get clothes and hadn't. She had thought she might...well Keaton was always put together, and...

Lynn kicked the dresser and rubbed at her forehead for a moment. Then she glanced back in and pulled out one of her two pairs of jeans, electing the one which had the most material still intact. She grabbed a t-shirt and turned -

There was a woman in the corner of her room.

"Bitch!" Lynn screamed, cocking back.

She blinked. There was nothing. She walked over, throwing her arms to catch someone invisible. Nothing. No noise. She rubbed at her eyes and looked again, her heart thundering in her ears. It - fuck. It was a shadow. She'd - her hair, it glowed, it cast shadows sometimes, and she'd thought it...it for sure was...

Lynn leaned back against the dresser for a moment, breathing, her hair and skin glowing like the bellows of a forge as she did so. Lynn threw her clothes to the ground and sat down at her backpack, fumbling with the zipper for a full thirty seconds. "Motherfucker," she muttered, finally managing to grasp it firmly and pull it apart. She wasn't going to lose her shit the day she got told the funniest joke of her life. She unscrewed the bottle and took a deep, long pull. The tequila burned running down her throat - one of the few times Lynn had ever felt something burn, and oh if she didn't love it - and gurgle in her empty stomach. She screwed the cap back on tight, not wanting to dowse her bag in Jose Cuervo. Lynn stood back up and grabbed her jeans up off the floor, sliding into them with utter ease, back pointedly to the mirror. She threaded her belt through the loops and cinched it tight before looking back at her other clothes. She had like three workout tanktops, a handful of ratty t-shirts, her hoodie. Lynn elected for the most presentable of the t-shirts - a black and yellow Wu Tang Clan shirt, and wriggled into it, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. She left her hoodie on her bed - Lynn had no intention of fighting anyone tonight, and if someone vomited all over it, she'd have to. Lynn walked into the bathroom and washed her mouth out with water and mouthwash for a moment before heading out, hair still bound back in its work-required ponytail. She locked the door behind her and made her way toward the campgrounds.

Lynn kept reminding herself of the Gary news, which was just beautiful, but it seemed like the gold-happy feeling that had filled her up a few minutes ago was shaken. Lynn wasn't sure why, and it was pissing her off. She was just trying to get trashed, and somehow that was proving too complicated. Along the way, Lynn passed a few roaming packs of would-be Homecoming kings and queens, whose photo ops she interrupted with no semblance of remorse. Rich fuckers, Lynn thought. Still, Lynn buried how annoying all their stupid shit was, and when she saw ATVs of cops roll past she buried the cold twisting feeling in her spine she got each time she saw the Promise's security, and when she passed the people sitting on the patios of restaurants she buried how hungry she felt. Lynn had blown her cash on the liquor, and figured that she was going to be hungry regardless, so she might as well be hungry and drunk.

After a few minutes of buoying herself with the mental image of Gary trying to talk his way out of an ultimately fatal ass-beating, Lynn stepped into the trees, letting one hand fall back to her backpack, fingers gripping the zipper. The woods were quiet, and Lynn was all to aware of how close she was to where she'd found the doll. She listened intently. The light was from firelight, something Lynn knew instinctively even before her eyes could pick up on the flickering campfire, and she could hear people talking about schoolwork, which wound her down. "Thank God," Lynn muttered, more relieved she got to just party than relieved it wasn't a set-up. That would've just been a headache. Lynn walked through the trees, the lantern next to her head flaring briefly as she stepped into the campfire. Lynn recognized a grand total of two people there, which was something of a mixed blessing, but it felt a little more mixed than blessing at the moment.

"What's up," Lynn said, reaching into her bag and, for the first time in her life, doing something that was unambiguously going to win people over and make them like her. She pulled out two full handles of tequila. She had limes and salt in her backpack, and even some beers, too. Lynn felt it was discourteous to not have a 40 oz, even if it had been two years since she'd had one. "Who wants tequila?"

Eli and Keaton were both standing next to each other, like some kind of denim Voltron. She was going to need a better nicknaming system. Lynn walked up, getting a read on the group. Eli was grabbing onto her literally and figuratively. Eli looked like she knew everyone here; Keaton knew only Eli. It made Lynn like Keaton a smidge more, but that may have been the warm cloud that was starting to seep into her mind. "'Sup sluts," Lynn said. She blinked. Maybe Eli's friends were squares. Eh. Oh well.