( open ) ✘ ❝ i know my call ❞

[advena]

CHARACTERS: kara zor-el & you.
LOCATIONS: around the city.
WARNINGS: physical violence, angst, general Good Times™
NOTE: forward-dated. spoilers up to supergirl 3.09
SUMMARY: as of january 5, kara's come back from her canon update, and she's ready to ... not be here, mostly.

✘ arrival & arrangements.

( her arrival is... sudden, for lack of a better word. she arrives as swiftly as she'd fallen, blood and bruises still prominent even after the city's administration checks her in. no, she tells them, i want to remember. if she must be here, if she must come back, she wants to be herself.

they offer her the belongings she'd left in their trust — things like her keys, filled with access to everything from the off-site townhome she'd registered with someone else to the back door of a business she barely remembers — but she declines them all. instead, kara quietly accepts a temporary assignment in the alpha building, a room they promise she'll find particularly comfortable on the top floor.

is it comfortable? perhaps it could be, if she wanted comfort. but all kara zor-el can ask for is the one thing she cannot have just yet: peace, brought by the knowledge that what horror she's left behind to flourish in her absence has finally been silenced, and that will not happen until she earns her piece here.

charity, they tell her, or intimate kindness. the idea of being intimate with anyone feels impossible. so here she is, lingering in the hallway of the volunteer center, looking considerably worse for wear, trademark glasses and librarian get-up traded in for dark slacks and a deo-issued grey sweater. )

I'd like to volunteer, please. Somewhere quiet.

✘ the sky & the sea.

( in the middle of the night, the sky is milky black and shimmering from the echoes of the stars dotted across; every so often, the occasional speck of a plane or a light in the distance breaks the scene. if you look closely, though, there's more than just clouds and birds and metal in the sky — there's the faint outline of a girl, too, a blur of colors floating in the distance, the outline of fabric fluttering in the breeze. it's neither a bird nor a plane, however; it's just kara, aimlessly drifting over the city.

from the ground, it might be hard to tell exactly who's up there, but if you've got a higher vantage point — like the high floors of a building, or your own capabilities for flight — you might be able to recognize the shape of the girl afloat, though said shape might be the only thing recognizable. instead of her librarian chic getup or the bright colors of her supergirl cape and boots, kara's dressed a bit... less formally.

warm grey cotton, varying shades from head to toe, might not indicate her current state, but the gentle close of her eyes just might. her hands dangle from her side as she floats, the night breeze carrying her to and fro as she slumbers. sleepflying. it's a thing. maybe you'll care to wake her, or to listen as she murmurs in her sleep. )

... the book of Rao... the symbols... please don't...

✘ of fists & fangs.

( sucker punch, with its dim lighting and the inexplicable coating of dust that seems to settle in everything, is not the sort of place you'd expect to find sunshine incarnate kara danvers. really, it's not even the sort of place you'd expect to hear about her, let alone run into her face-to-face. but if you happen to go in on just the right day, at precisely the right time, you might just find her there.

to be entirely fair, it's not exactly kara danvers, human ray of sunshine, who finds herself settled inside the ring. no, the slim, quiet girl with the echoes of bruising across her cheekbones hardly seems a fair comparison to the chipper sweetheart that had left this city just a week ago.

there's a quiet intensity to her now, intent in each strike of fist against the reinforced metal she's hung in place of a punching bag, resolve in each low exhale of breath as she attempts each move in her memory.

when the metal finally gives way, she lingers near the ropes of the boxing ring, blonde hair tied up in a ponytail and her everyday attire exchanged for a rather cozy-looking sweatpants and t-shirt combo, looking more like a skittish potential fighter than a girl who could knock out the hulk with a good right hook. it might be easier to practice there. it's only this knowledge that has her turning to the next person who crosses her path, to murmur: )

I need a sparring partner.

✘ free spaces & wildcards.

( for convenience's sake, i've drawn up a few starters! however, anyone who knows her might notice she's not been at any of her usual hangouts — home, criminales, the alluring warmth of wok and roll on unlimited potstickers day, and so on. feel free to call her out on it, or alternatively, if you fancy a chance meeting with the girl formerly known as kara danvers, by all means, have at it.

feel free to pm me or hit me up at semicolons if you want to hash something out in advance, though! )

Comments

[prosecutorial]

[Laurel knows that kind of reaction. She's been giving it a lot back home, everyone giving her more concerned faces than she knows what to do with. So she backs off, because she knows that sometimes you don't want to spill everything to a person you don't really know well.

People have the right to be a mess sometimes. She just hopes that Kara has people she can lean on when she's ready.]

No, no, nothing like that. I just wanted to make sure you were okay, that's all.

[advena]

( she sounds so sincere, so well-meaning — kara hesitates for a moment before letting out a slow, measured exhale, her own shoulders sagging a bit as the pressure leaves her lungs. )

Is it that obvious?

( it must be. she hasn't let claire or anyone else at the hospital touch her wounds, but it's more than just physical. it's... well. she feels like she's a different person now. exhausted, worn out. the shell of who she used to be. )

[prosecutorial]

[She tips her head to the side for a moment, because she isn't really sure how to explain it, but she just seems so ... deflated. There are just parts of that that you really can't fake.]

I know I don't know you well, but you're usually ... brighter, I guess.

[advena]

( it's tempting to brush off the statement. this laurel doesn't know kara well, that much is true, but there was another laurel who did, and in her memory, kara doesn't think it's quite fair to do that to her. it's not fair to anybody to pretend like she's fine when she's not.

the chair she'd been occupying before is reclaimed as kara sinks back into it, head leaning back against the wooden edge as she tries to figure out how to answer it. a good explanation doesn't come, so she settles on the truth, even if it is blunt. )

I died. ( well. the kind of truth. ) At least, I think I died. I was dying, anyway, and I guess... I guess I wished I wasn't, and I came back here.

And now that I'm back, I just. I don't know what to do.

[prosecutorial]

[Laurel moves to sit when she does, setting the books to the side and just focusing on the way Kara is talking about it and how to process something like that. A trauma like that isn't easy to deal with, but Laurel, unfortunately, knows a bit about trauma and being in a place where she doesn't know what to do.

(She still hasn't spoken to Oliver. She doesn't know when she's going to, but it seems like he isn't ready to talk to her either.)

When she finishes, Laurel nods, before reaching forward and resting a hand on hers.]

It's okay, to not know what to do. And it's also okay to not want to die either.

[Because survivors guilt can be a weird, twisted sort of thing. Laurel doesn't know the full weight of that yet, but she'll get there, in a canon bump or two.]

Something happened to you and it changed you - if you need time to figure out what that means before you move forward again then you should take it.

[advena]

( kara hasn't either. they have that in common, the not speaking to oliver queen post-trauma thing. not that they're really talking about that, but... it's still there. )

I guess so. ( she doesn't mean it to sound dismissive. she's just not sure, and she hates to agree to something if it doesn't sound true. ) I feel... I guess I feel selfish. Hiding in somebody else's apartment, not going to work. I should be able to do this.

[prosecutorial]

[She tips her head back and forth, because yeah. In theory, Kara should. But "should" and "can" are two different things.]

You almost died. There are moments when you're allowed to be a little selfish. Eventually you'll have to pick yourself up and move on, but only you're going to know when you're ready to do that.

[She's ... speaking from experience on that one.]