divinity says "destiny can't be earned"

[castitas]

Who: Kate Marsh + You!
What: Kate returns to Milton from her seaside getaway to Silverpoint. Beargate happens.
When: Early June.
Where: Milton Outskirts/Wilds; Milton, various.

Content Warnings: animal death; bear attacks; supernatural ailments; mental manipulation; altered physiological states.

Comments

if I implore you, could I be your lamb? — open, post-what lies beneath / try honesty

[castitas]

— one

[ The bear has to be left behind. Of course it does, there's no way she's going to be able to lug that thing back all by herself: it's a bear. No matter how close it is to town. Hopefully the animal will remain undisturbed by any roaming predators before she has a chance to get back to it.

She's unsteady on her feet by the time she reaches town. Shaken and pale and the now unloaded flare gun still in her hand. She hit Tim, too. But she can't focus on that right now, she can't let herself. That bear— it's food.

The colour aura around is a bright and fizzling pale colours of white and yellow. She smells like flare-shell discharge and damp air and sweat. She's dazed and overwhelmed and exhausted. Merry trots at her side, tail between his legs: wary and cowed. ]

Hey, I uh— I need... help.

— two

[ When the bear's finally brought back to Milton, she heads to the Community Hall. It's only then that she really allows herself to breathe: she legit killed a bear and hit Tim. Like hit him. In the face. She's never raised her hand to anyone before but she just— she just got the maddest she'd ever been in her life, saw red and just—

she doesn't know. It's really put a damper on the whole 'coming back home' thing.

Silverpoint had been good for her, at least. But now she's— she doesn't know what happened out there in the woods.

She makes a bee-line for the fire and collapses into a nearby chair to warm herself. Merry flops down at her feet, sullen. The colours around her still remain pale of her shock and stun, but there's darker colours fading in: mournful purples and dark blues. Bringing home the bear-bacon doesn't feel at all like it's chalked up to be. ]

two

[solitarysoul]

[Levi had returned from Silverpoint before Kate did, so he's already getting back into the swing of things in Milton by then. Which includes spending a good amount of time by the fire in the hall after one of many patrols or hunting trips or whatever.

He doesn't have a colorful aura, but his skin is covered in cuts, scrapes and bruises. Nothing too bad is visible on his face/neck or hands.]

K-kate? Are you alright? Do you want me to bring you something?

[castitas]

[ She's exhausted, cold from the journey. Unsure if she's coming down from some sort of adrenaline crash or— or whatever it was that happened out there. Her hands are still shaking, but she curls them into fists to stop them.

She's slow to register Levi, not really sure how to answer. She stares at him for a long moment, taking him in. No, nothing too bad but he looks a little worse for wear, she guesses. Maybe he's been on another long trip? Or is he still tired from Silverpoint? ]

I, uh— I dunno. Um. [ She's still dazed. ] ... Are you okay?

[solitarysoul]

Huh? Oh, yeah. The bruises...they're all old. They don't hurt. They showed up after that weird dream.

[castitas]

[ Kate swallows, slow to react and stares. Her brain takes her a minute to catch up. It's not the first time she's come across this. There was an Interloper in Silverpoint who'd had something like this, too. ]

Wait, you— you mean the one with Enola? And the three stones?

one

[dies_irate]

[ John happens to be gathering up pine needles for tea when he spots her, and the fact that she looks dazed and fucked up has him pausing in his work and putting bucket he'd been collecting in down... but he doesn't approach. He knows what he looks like. ]

I-I could help?

[castitas]

[ She hears the voice and turns, inhaling sharply as she voice's owner and taking a step back. Her expression frozen in a balance of exhaustion and fear at the sight of— she doesn't know. The being sounds like a man. But—

She doesn't have the energy left to scream. She doesn't have the energy to lift the flare gun in her hand — not that it would do anything, it's empty.

Her voice is hushed, shifting up in pitch. ]

Oh, God.

[ And they're offering to help?! She's lost it. She's official lost her shit. ]

[dies_irate]

John.

[ He holds up both hands, making sure to keep the one 'together' so that it looks like a hand and not a set of five tentacles coiled together. And while his mask-like face doesn't have a (visible) mouth, the eyes are all empathy. ]

I-I'm a friend of Arthur. Arthur? Have you met Arthur? O-or Noel. I'm not-

[ Beat. ]

A-are you hurt? Or just- [ A little frustrated but still not moving ] Please. Can I help you?

[castitas]

[ She doesn't know exactly what she's looking at. It's like a mask but it's real like a face and she doesn't get how a mask can be a face. Her voice doesn't manage to come down from it's higher pitch but one of the names mentioned does cause a flicker of recognition in her face. ]

You're... you're Arthur's friend? Arthur Lester? [ Arthur, who told her once there's magic and gods in his world. Although it makes her wonder: ] Are you a god?

[ Is she hurt? She... doesn't know how to answer the question. There's no blood on her, no visible injuries at least other than fingers that're growing redder from frostnip — sore and swollen from beating on the bear's downed body. ]

There— there was a bear. In the woods.

One

[moralabsolutism]

[Rorschach had been planning to head to the library and slip into the back to catch a few Z's. But any weariness he may be experiencing immediately falls away when he sees what a state Kate is in. He immediately runs over to her, breathing hard enough when he stops due to the cold air that some condensation filters its way even through the double layers of the mask.]

Are you hurt?

[castitas]

[ It takes her a long while to answer the question. Like she can't quite register it through the brain fog and dizzying feeling that's rattling through her. There's no blood on her, not any sign of obvious injury, but she's looking down at herself as if to check. ]

... I— I don't know. Um, I— I'm okay, I think. [ There's a slow nod, although she doesn't know if it's to reassure him or herself. ] There was a bear.

[ And Tim. But that goes unsaid. ]

[moralabsolutism]

[Frankly, Rorschach's surprise isn't so much at hearing there was a bear out there as it is at the fact that Kate managed to get away unscathed. That's no small feat considering he knows for certain one of the Interlopers was mauled to death by one of the bears towards the start of the year.]

Sure you're okay? Is it still out there?

[The idea that Kate herself managed to kill the damn thing never even crosses his mind as a possibility. The most he would have thought her capable of is managing to maybe get away from it through being smart and also lucky.]

— tim drake

[castitas]

cw: supernatural ailments; mental manipulation; altered physiological states; paranoia; bear attack; animal death; eye injury (animal); ... animal corpse abuse?

[ There are cracks in the earth. Dotted along the landscape and churned up asphalt and makeshift graves of former Milton residents of the Costal Highway. By chance, she comes across one of the fissures, pausing to examine them and finding the pale-green vapours. It's weird. Green isn't the colour of danger. It's supposed to be red.

The journey back to Milton is a long one, with plenty of stops along the way. Kate withdraws slowly with suspicion and a low-burning ire she keeps pressed down. The group is smaller than those who journeyed down to Silverpoint. Plenty of people didn't stay long and left long before May came to an end, and some have stayed behind by the coast. She'd been tempted to stay longer, but she misses people back in Milton.

She'd reach out to some of them. She doesn't know if they got her messages. She hopes they did, or— sorta. Some of them were a mess. But the coast had been good for her.

By the time they've gotten through most of Lakeside, she hangs back in the group — Merry close to her side. Merry who whines and grumbled, unsettled by the separation from the others. By the time they've reached the Mines, she hangs back in the Mining Camp, urging the others to go forwards.

She doesn't trust them, wary of them—

The walk from the mines down to Milton is too quiet. She pulls her gloves off and pulls out her flare gun. It's loaded. She doesn't like the quiet. Even alone, she's sure there's... something, someone out there. And not even Merry is immune to the growing, gnawing feeling. It's like a swarm of hornets, an incessant prickling at the back of her neck, her jaw tight as she grinds her teeth.

Stop looking at me. she snaps at Merry, and the wolf-dog keeps his head and tail low.

The moment she sees the bear, the swarm of hornets in her head blurs into a high-pitched screech. Everything is too sharp and bright. The colours that glow around her: warnings of mustard-yellow bleed into red and white-hot. She's not afraid. She's angry, strung too tight and her fingers are already burning from the cold. Merry's barking furiously, trying to ward the animal off.

She's not running, she's screaming furiously — stalking forwards as the bear rears up and charges. She raises her arms, her hands don't even shake.

Click.

The sound is deafening. A hot red-white dazzling flash of light. It sinks into the bear's skull, through the eye. The bear crumples with a grunt. Kate's throwing off her pack, blind to the animal's death and charging forwards as she grabs a strewn branch from the snow — still screaming into the open air as she starts to beat the downed beast.

The flare fizzles and roars from the eye socket, smoke trailing. The flare is red and white and Kate's red and white and on the ground is red and white and red and white and— ]

[ployboy]

[The days are long and ugly; Tim doesn't give himself time to mourn what he had feverishly looked forward to in many dark moments: light. The Territories have so much of it now that waking up is a nearly insurmountable challenge. There's nothing to look forward to this summer. There's only certainties that are thorns in his sides.

The certainty that Bruce would rather look through him than at him. The truth that he's chased away one person dear to him, and that he's gone and lost another. The fact that night won't come, not for a while, and that Tim will have to find his relief in the darkness some other way. It's ugly.

He wanders the woods, intent on reaching the mines. Just to prove he can.

He moves with a stilted gait- not quite a limp. But the old gift from the Forest Talkers attack had made itself known after the big hunt. And Tim's arm- the one that never did correctly heal- is deadweight at his side for most of the trek. Laelaps worries. No doubt she can smell the wild animals probably agitated by the fights.

Both Tim and Laelaps jump.

The silence was broken by thunder, the mechanical kind that has Tim cringing through phantom pains in ways he never had before. But the training is there, still a part of him just as the depression is. He hears screaming. He runs.

First he recognizes the flare- white and red and sputtering and dying. He recognizes the bear- dead. But Tim still runs forward with his heavy lean because Kate is... is... he doesn't recognize whatever she must think she's doing but she's] Kate!!

Kate, it's dead! [he's learned his lesson in assuming: he won't tell her she's okay. His aura is an echo of that flare gun's orange- alert and an eyesore impossible to ignore. It's peppered with dusty pink. And it's all held together by a distrusting string of electric yellow.] You hit the mark, Kate, the bear's dead.

[castitas]

[ In all honestly, there's very little she can do to the bear with her fists, even if it lies dead. Despite the fury and intent behind her actions, her hands are small and untrained beating at thick muscle and fur. But she keeps hitting, screams curling into something raw and ragged as her throat strains and goes dry. Merry is backing off, ears flat and tail down as he licks at his mouth — torn between loyalty of keeping close and the need to create distance.

She snaps to the voice, body tense and pupils blown and for a brief moment the colours around her are blinding white and the startling jolt of a lightning strike. Her breaths are shallow and quick — everything is too quick and too sharp. A brief wild moment of stun twisting back into anger and the red cracks through, dark and acidic.

There is Tim and there's not Tim, but a threat.

A threat that wanted to kill Edward Little, and could have. A threat that didn't care about what she wanted, but acted on his own accord. A threat that feels like a betrayal because he told her once— Don't let me hurt you again, Kate. I don't like hurting people.

What a joke.

She's pushing herself up from the bear, back onto her feet — face twisting in anger. The bear is forgotten about, and her vision spins and blurs around the edges — focusing in on him. Breathless, she makes a run for him — hands outstretched and fingers straining to grab him — a determined attempted to tackle him to the ground. ]

[ployboy]

[The yellow sparks against the orange streaks and rosy blush and it's then that Tim realizes, yes, he has learned his lesson. He stops his approach just to signal to Laelaps to buzz right off but that gesture is entirely unneeded. She pads over to her brother. Alpha that she thinks she is, she presses an open mouth of long teeth to Merry's muzzle: move.

Which is the opposite of what Tim can do.

He's shoving aside the anticlimactic horror show of finding Kate Marsh kicking the literal crap out of a dead bear to face the reality of her charging right at him. Tim anticipates it'll feel nothing like a linebacker trying to see him eat dirt. He angles his body to evade the collision if at all possible-- it's her hands that he's concerned about.

But he doesn't want to grab and twist at her wrists or elbows or

so Tim grits his teeth and shoulders through the crash, and he doesn't grunt at how badly his knees just wanted to buckle.]

Do you think you can- use your words?

[All he sees is-- hatred. Which is fine. It's fine. Fair, even.

But.] You're not you right now. [And he wants to understand, so following the droning commentary of what's obvious, Tim uses the first opening... to step back. Disengage.

To give her space away from him, all pink and plum with sick worry as he lowers his voice to reach her. His knee hurts now: fantastic.] What happened?

[castitas]

[ Merry hesitates. He understands the order, but he understands that something is very wrong here in a way he doesn't understand. The emotions in play here are unfamiliar to him from Kate, foreign. He doesn't like this, and he's reluctant to move away. But he can be swayed by his sister, whining and head ducking away from her teeth to move away from his owner — still small and cowed and anxious.

It absolutely doesn't feel anything like a line-backer. She's barely anything soaking wet, but she throws herself into him and even if it knocks the wind out of her, it doesn't deter her. Tim tries to get away, Kate isn't going to let him. ]

You did. [ She breathes it, scathing and seething. The red crackles and splinters into black like cracks in a mirror. ] You and your bullshit.

[ And she's grabbing at him, whatever part she can get when she's close enough. Grabbing and shoving and smacking at his chest and shoulders. Her hands hurt, sore from beating at the bear and her fingers are cold — her gloves are forgotten in the snow, somewhere. ]

You were gonna kill him—! [ No guesses on who. Her voice rises into a strained, raw yell — her screaming making her voice go hoarse. ] You would have taken him away from me—! And for what? For what?!

You. Lied. You're a liar.

— wynonna earp

[castitas]

[ Once the shock wears off a little and she's warmed up by the fire in the Community Hall, Kate heads out again. There's people she needs to see. Some are going to be more difficult than others, all things considered.

The first person isn't difficult, and it's someone she's actually looking forward to seeing. The Post Office isn't far from the Community Hall, either. So it makes sense for it to be her first stop. She opens the door and peeks inside, half-hovering in the doorway.

The colour of the aura around her warm and brighten at the sight of the woman behind the bar: soft golden yellows and baby pinks of joy and affection and relief. Not like she had any suspicion anything would happen. Wynnona is... well, she's Wynonna. ]

So, like— I don't have any ID. [ The smile at her lips is tired and pale. ] Am I actually allowed in here?

[pacificator]

[ She's tired, which apparently is what happens when you let your... whatever Edward is to her these days... snack on what she can only assume, based on how it feels, is her freaking life force, but it's better than him snapping and attacking someone else.

Again.

But: tired, and a little distracted because of it, and she's been cleaning the same portion of the bar for almost a full minute now, her thoughts wandering elsewhere when that tentative voice sounds. Not in her head, for the first time in too long.

Wynonna looks up, a grin already starting, tugging an unruly curve into her lips. ]

What, no fake? I better get you set up with one of those fast.

[ She sets the cloth down and comes out from behind the bar, heading toward Kate with every intention to hug. ]

Hey there, kiddo. Missed you.

[castitas]

They're, like, illegal, Wynonna.

[ But like, it's a joke. Still, as if she'd ever use a fake ID, even in the apocalypse. Kate's smiling, though. Tired and half-chilled and her hands throb because who knew smacking the heck out of a dead bear and Tim Drake would hurt?

And she's definitely here for a Wynonna-shaped hug, stepping inside the bar to meet her. Merry trots in after her, tail wagging at the sight of Wynonna. He's less hyped today, but he's still pleased to see the woman, too. ]

I missed you, too. [ Honest to God, she has. ] Did you get my messages okay?

[pacificator]

Yeah, and? That's what makes them useful.

[ It's okay, Kate. You can work up to committing actual misdemeanors. For now, Wynonna's happy to just put her arms around the girl's slender shoulders, hugging her tight as Merry comes up for a greeting of his own. ]

Yeah, loud and clear.

[ She lets go of Kate and leans down to give Merry a pat, then tips her head toward the chairs by the fireplace. ]

You here to hang out for a while, or just stopping by?

— john irving

[castitas]

[ It feels strange being back, even if this cabin is as close to home as anyone could make in this place. She's warmed up enough to stave off the cold in hands from turning into anything more serious, but her fingers are still cold and red — the finds stiff and a little swollen, with bruises beginning to form at the knuckles. Of course she doesn't know how to hit anything, she doesn't raise her hand to anyone.

But she did; beating down on a dead bear in her rage and then turning that rage onto Tim — smacking him in the face hard enough to draw blood.

In the quiet of the cabin, she sniffles. She's tired and strange. She still doesn't know what'd come over her — how she could be so angry. Angry enough to hit Tim, to kill a bear.

Merry's still not himself from the whole encounter, his tail low as he heads upstairs to go hide in Kate's bedroom. He'll be scratching at the door to be let in, but Kate starts to busy herself with warming some water to soak her hands. The fire's lit, someone's here — and she suspects which one of the Lieutenants it is.

She peels off her coat, hanging it up; moves a pot of water to the fire. There's creaking up stairs, movement of another person. They'll guess it's her with Merry now upstairs — likely making sad eyes to be let into Kate's room. ]

It's just me— [ Her voice cracks, hoarse from screaming. She's so tired, sinking down to her knees to take in the fire's warmth. ] I'm back.

[ And she's a sorry state. ]

[extramuralise]

[ From upstairs comes the relatively distinct yet subdued sound of careful, slippered footsteps walking across wooden floors so worn that they groan and bump like ghosts whether or not they've just been stepped upon, shortly followed by the gentle, muted scrape of a door swiftly opening and then closing— Irving letting Merry into Kate's bedroom by rote, ever mindful of a young lady's need for privacy not to open the door so much that he can actually see into the room, but still leaving the door open just a crack so the dog can later let himself back out again.

Then, noise from the lower floor catches his attention. Someone else must be home, and, given Merry, it's easy enough to assume that the someone is most likely Kate. ]

Miss Marsh? [ He calls down the stairs — not loudly, but simply to announce his presence — before beginning to descend. ] Welcome h—

[ Irving stops at the bottom of the staircase, finally getting a look at the crumpled heap of girl currently nestled in front of the fire like dirty laundry. He squints for a moment against the dim firelight trying to confirm what he's seeing, before rushing over. ]

Oh my days, what— w-who's blood is that, Katie?

[castitas]

[ Merry will be very happy to be let inside Kate's room. It's been A Day and he just wants to curl up in his bed and sleep. He is not happy. The things he's seen today, John. The things he's seen.

Kate's right in her suspicions, and it's a little subconscious wave of relief with a prickle of sadness. Lieutenant Little hasn't come back. She's already spoke to Wynonna— she'd asked her if Kate was afraid of him. And— she's sad he's not here, but it's just... complicated. A mess.

She looks up to meet him when he appears at the bottom of the stairs, a dazed, exhausted look. Her eyes are glossy, and the colours around her are muted, unfocused blurs of sickly yellow and pale purple.

She raises her hands a little, looking at them. Not a huge amount of blood at least, but noticeable, Tim's — and the redness of frostnip and bruising. Not like she can actually throw a punch, and beating down on a head bear with abandon didn't help. ]

It's— it's not mine. [ She feels mildly nauseous. God, she hit Tim. And there's no real way of explaining this in a good way, so she starts to rabbit, almost nonsensical. ] There— I hit someone, but there was a bear and I— I just— I got all weird but I don't know why, and I just was angry so I killed the bear then Tim showed up and I was still mad at him for what he did at the church so—

[ She tapers off, breathless. Her mouth works for a few moments, trying to say it again but making sense this time but nothings coming out, until— ]

... my hands hurt.

[extramuralise]

[ Irving is neither doctor nor surgeon, but he does know a few useful first-aid basics that he won't hesitate to put to use now, for however much good they might still do her— it's difficult to tell exactly what condition she's in, or how old those bruises and sores may be, but though he may be horribly unequipped for the task, he's the only one here to do it.

Disappearing briefly from the room, he returns shortly, still wide-eyed, with a warm washcloth and a shallow basin of hot, lightly salted water— not piping hot, but as warm as he could make it on their old stove without keeping Kate in the other room waiting for too long. ]

H-here, like this— [ He's careful, setting the basin aside and wrapping the washcloth around her injured hands. ] The salt might sting for a moment, but this should help, for a start.

[ Frowning mildly, either at Kate's words or from seeing the harried state of her more close-up, he withdraws a handkerchief from his shirt pocket. ]

Close your eyes. [ So he can gently dab at her face, her eyes, then dip it into the basin and carefully mop over any dirt, sweat, or discoloration he can see. Irving isn't altogether comfortable being the one to do this, but as he's just swaddled Kate's hands within the warm washcloth, he can't exactly hand over the handkerchief for her to do it herself. ] And where else?

[ Hopefully nowhere else, because if she were injured elsewhere it would likely require not only some clothing removal just to inspect the wounds, but also undoubtedly a good deal more medical knowledge than Irving himself possesses. At a glance, though, Kate's clothes don't seem to be torn or bloodstained as far as he can see, so that's at least a promising sign. ]

And of course you'll be wanting some tea now, I'm sure, [ he adds, almost distractedly. ] but first tell me about this... this bear.

[ The word makes him swallow, hard, and he looks vaguely like he might be sick. All things considered, the Tim of it all has barely even registered for him yet, although it will sink in eventually. ]

You say you... killed it? But how on Earth did you manage such a thing?