storiesbecame-a-blog

[storiesbecame-a-blog]

roberta:

 She didn’t think anyone else was around her – but there was a voice that broke her panicked consciousness that was familiar. Almost achingly so; something that spoke of the home she was from – even if she couldn’t classify it was home anymore, not with the way that it had gone to shit. Not with the way that her home was barely recognizable. But – no, the voice still spoke of home. Her friends were the only thing that she could consider home anymore.   She turns over her shoulder, almost convinced she was going out of her mind – which, it took long enough – and not truly expecting to see him standing there. But, like the cockroach that he was, he was there. In the flesh – no strange colors – nothing different or odd about him. Except maybe the fact that he was here in the first place.   “Murphy -?” she asks, her tone nearly disbelieving before he wastes barely any time in crossing the space between them and taking her hand in a vice grip. And it was because of that that Roberta quickly stomped the idea that this was another Zona – as Murphy had been involved in the other. Highly – this time, Murphy seemed just as out of place and just as confused as she was. Clinging her to like she was an anchor, or a lifeline. Not even Murphy could fake that.     So, she holds his hand back just as tightly for the moment, patting her other hand on the outside of his. “You’re here –” she starts, shocked, before adding as an after thought, “– where is here?”  

    “Hell if I know,” he breathes. Murphy gapes at her, taking a LONG look at her to make sure she’s really HERE. They had been all but dead the last time they met; Murphy had accepted the bitter irony that for once, he had actually WANTED to live when the Black Rainbow stretched across the earth. 

    But it hardly seemed to matter now. This place is...not where either of them came from. He drops his hand awkwardly to his side, fighting to find the words to say to her next.

    “I thought we were gonners for sure. Whatever this place is...it ain’t Zona. At least I don’t THINK it is. No zombies, so...guess that’s a good sign.”

    And Murphy actually manages a smile with the soft shake of his head. There’s so much relief, he feels he could collapse. His reckless NEED to save her life hadn’t been for nothing after all. He had done something GOOD, and whether or not this is because of his doing, she had made it after all.

    “Looks like we’ve both given Death the finger this time around, huh?”

[storiesbecame-a-blog]

rey:

    Though, Jyn is still embarrassed at her attempt at talking to a stranger. She hides her face in her sandwich instead, taking a larger bite than she intended to distract herself.

“I guess?” It made Rey feel a little closer to home, for an odd reason. But this planet had only one sun, after all, so she would not expect anyone knowing that it could also be different.

“Okay. you are right - it is beautiful, yes. Really beautiful, indeed.” Not the first she had seen. On Jakku, Rey had seen almost all of them, seeing she always had to be up early in order to somehow survive another day. “Though, can I ask where you are from, maybe? Because you’ve said you know worlds that have more than one sun, as well…”

    “I was born on Vallt,” she says, unsure if the girl would know where that is. To be honest, Jyn doesn’t know either -- she has no memory of the place where she was born. “But I spent several years on Lah’mu as a young girl. After that I just...drifted. For a long, long time.”

    Jyn huffs a laugh, crouching down to tighten the laces on her boots. She remains crouched, toying with the laces of her shoes absently.

    “And then -- “ She pauses. “I ended up here.” She eyes Rey curiously. “A lot of people just sort of...popped up here. Is that what happened to you?”

[storiesbecame-a-blog]

ray:

    He had found himself a quiet spot in the park – this place was strange, and he wanted nothing more than to find a way home. But constantly stressing himself out wasn’t going to help anything; so he was at least satisfied to find the same book he had been working himself through at the local library and settled down in the park with it.

   He doesn’t hide a soft sigh when the other speaks without much of a greeting, looking up at her over the top of his book, “I’m sorry – I don’t think I caught a hello, a name – or, hell, a please. Who the hell are you?”

    “Hi. Jyn. Sorry.” She spits out a response before she can give it proper thought, still baffled by the man’s FACE if nothing else -- even his voice sends a familiar chill down her spine. It doesn’t have Cassian’s comfort. But he sure as hell has that accent that Jyn could listen to for a very long time should she allow herself to...

    She’s trailing off. She could hit herself, really.

    “Sorry,” she repeats, glancing down at her hand. “You just remind me of a friend.” She lifts her hand to show him the angry cut, wincing as a trickle of blood spills down her palm. Allowing her thoughts to wander is only going to embarrass herself later.

    “Can you please take a look at this?”

[storiesbecame-a-blog]

leia:

Leia paused as she wiped down a table, lip caught between her teeth in concentration. She hadn’t expected the gi-woman to speak to her in such a manner that suggested that she knew Leia. Leia didn’t pretend she recognized the woman, always the one for blunt honesty when it came to these situations. She could lie with the best of them, but something told her to spare this woman. 

“I can’t say I can say the same about you.” Brown eyes looked her over, noticing the stance she held, as if she was ready to bolt at a moments notice. She looked worried, and the princess felt for her. Losing her home, her world, her parents, had set off the same sort of phantom feelings and heartache in her, though she tried not to show it unless she was alone. 

“What’s your name?”

    Of course she wouldn’t -- nobody is meant to know Jyn’s name. Jyn had been nobody, before. PERHAPS, if she and Cassian were successful in their suicide mission on Scarif, their names would be heard, whispered among rebels for the sacrifice they’d given...

    But Jyn hadn’t stolen the Death Star plans and waited to die in Cassian’s arms for fame. She had done it for her life to mean something. For her father’s life -- and death -- to mean something. She had done it to HELP people in the only way that she knew how.

   “I’m Jyn Erso,” she says quietly. “You...you’re a princess. Princess...” Jyn wracks her brain. Alderaan, right?

    “Princess Leia. The princess who betrayed the Empire.”

[storiesbecame-a-blog]

tikki:

  “I’m .. sorry,” Tikki starts, “I’m .. not quite sure what Homeworld is that you speak of-” she admits softly, her voice still slightly cautious at the forward way that the other spoke about the magic all around them. Of course, Tikki was more than familiar with magic of sorts; but she had a feeling that this Rose spoke of a different kind of magic than a kwami like herself would provide.    “ – … what are you, then? Before you were … human, like this?”

    Rose can sense her unease, though she’s hesitant to reach out to her. Tikki is rightfully mistrustful of her, as she understands; they come from vastly different worlds, which hold incredibly different kinds of magic and change. She offers her a small smile, instead.

    “I was a Crystal Gem. I was a mother. I was...powerful.” She’s still has no desire to reveal she was once a DIAMOND. Not that it would mean anything to Tikki like it would to the gems -- or to humans of earth who know that ALIENS ( as they say ) walk among them.

    Perhaps she would tell her in time, if she felt the need. “I could change shape and size. And color, if I wanted to. I was almost entirely unbreakable...what about you? You don’t seem like you were so ordinary before you took this form.”

[storiesbecame-a-blog]

lars:

@storiesbecame [ murphy ] . [ sc. ]

Lars took a half of a step back from the man that was approaching him merely out of an ingrained caution, “– woah, slow down, man. You look like you’re about to either ask me what the meaning of life is – or nuclear detonation codes. Try and make it quick, whatever you need, ‘cause I’m starving.”

    Murphy stops dead in his tracks, his face falling in irritation as his shoulders slump. “You know, it wouldn’t surprise me that this place would be rigged with nuclear detonation codes. Lemme guess -- they’re some kinda first-strike weapon to reset the entire world to recreate in whoever built this goddamn town’s image, right? Or is he just really, really sick of planet earth all around? Or -- wait! I have a third guess. Radiation zombies?”

    Murphy is so tired of being sent on death missions, he doesn’t even bother to consider Lars is very LIKELY being sarcastic. But at this point, he hardly CARES.

    “I’m starving too. I could eat my own shoes right about now. Where’s all the food around here anyway?”

[storiesbecame-a-blog]

cassian:

“I’m glad you’re alright,” he says after a moment of silence. And, the oddity of it all was that it was the truth. He hadn’t much cared before too much about the safety of other rebels. However, Jyn’s safety had somehow – throughout the time of knowing her – became a priority of his and he had no way of explaining it. Between going back for her on Jedha, and Eadu, and Scarif –… Cassian never would’ve risked such a thing for another rebel. He couldn’t begin to defend it, not even to himself. It was irrational.    Albeit, when she speaks again something seems to spark in his eyes, brows raising with a soft, “oh –” when she mentions her necklace. He’s reaching under his shirt, the only place he had known to keep it so that he wouldn’t lose it, before extracting the kyber crystal where it dangled like a pendulum before he was offering it to her space. “I … appeared here with it. I don’t … feel anything from it.” The second part was added as an afterthought, as he remembers a few times that Jyn would hold it while she was lost in thought, as if she derived some kind of warmth from it. “ – I didn’t want to lose it.” To be fair, Cassian hadn’t thought he would see her again – although he was more than relieved to be wrong – and he honestly had no reason to keep it. But, he still had; he didn’t feel right just getting rid of it. Her heavy confession was even heavier on his chest; there weren’t many that would miss him personally should he disappear into the stars. Miss his contributions to the cause, perhaps. But himself? Cassian had too much blood on his hands for himself to accept that anyone would miss his presence. Despite that, he ducks his head down and his brows twist inwards – as if confused by her confession. “ – I missed you, too, Jyn-”

    Jyn’s stare turns glassy. For a moment, it’s as though she’s staring straight through Cassian as she reaches a trembling hand out to take the necklace from him. As she closes her fist over the pendant, its familiar warmth spreads through her hand. She’s sworn, over the years, that the crystal has sharpened her senses. Made her more in tune with the world around her. She never had an explanation for it -- but even now, it’s like she’s seeing Cassian clearly for the first time since Scarif.

    And he’s the same man -- the same BOY, in a sense -- that she had come to trust.

    Her body stiffens. She takes three seconds of consideration, of weighing the pros and cons of her next decision -- and decides it’s worth it. But really, she doesn’t have a choice at all. Her body moves on it’s own accord when she throws her arms around his neck to hug him TIGHTLY. As tight as she had during their dying moments -- clinging to him so that she may not feel any PAIN when the Death Star’s destruction would turn them into stardust.

    She doesn’t know where she is, or why she’s here. She doesn’t know WHY they’re alive, or for what reason -- should there be one at all. But even so, Jyn knows all at once that she’s finally HOME.

    “Thank you,” she murmurs into his shoulder. “Thank you, Cassian.” She’s entirely grateful for bringing her last memory of her mother back to her -- for finding HIS OWN way back to her. 

    “Welcome home,” she whispers, almost too quietly for him to hear. Welcome home.

[storiesbecame-a-blog]

pearl:

 When the other speaks, says her name, and the hope became more real – flooded with the mesh of fear and anger and hurt – Pearl takes a half of a step back, diverting her eyes from the truth that was slowly unveiling in front of her.

  For years – ever since Steven was born, Pearl alluded herself to believe that there was a way to bring ROSE BACK, that she was trapped – hidden – somewhere inside of Steven’s form. But, as Steven grow – both older, and on her – she slowly began to understand what the other Crystal Gems had accepted; Rose was gone, her Diamond was gone. All they had left of her was Steven.    For years, she had imagined what she would even say if Rose had come back ; but so much had happened – there was relief, and elation. But alongside of it, was a gripping feeling at her chest she couldn’t quiet recognize. She draws both hands into herself, clasping them in front of her with her eyes still on the floor. Her eyes burned, the sensation of tears unfallen nearly overwhelming her at this point as she sucked in a gasp that burned all the way down her throat.                “ROSE -” she finally cracks out hoarsely after a long moment of silence, without looking up. 

    By their standards, it really hadn’t been THAT long. She and Pearl have lived side by side for thousands of years together. The fourteen years that she had been gone was merely a blink of an eye in their terms.

    Meaning, her departure is still very much an open wound for Pearl. When you live forever, decades are mere moments in the stretch of time that is laid out before them.

    “This is so unexpected,” she says quietly. Tears are burning in her eyes; of all the wonderful things and experiences she’s come to know as a REAL human, she had never expected to see HER Pearl this way. Not HERE. Not when they can look at one another with HUMAN eyes.

    “You always seem to find a way back to me, don’t you?” She grins through the burn of her tears, wiping them away with a free hand. “How do you like it? Being human? Isn’t it wonderful?” She squeezes Pearl’s hands. They had so much to talk about -- and so much TIME to talk about it. 

    “I’ve been gone for quite some time...haven’t I?”

[storiesbecame-a-blog]

starter for @pcrfectlywrong ( steve ) !

    “Hey. Muscle man. Blonde boy. Pretty eyes. Have you seen a long stick about -- “ He spreads his arms past his shoulders. “ -- yay long? Kinda pointy at the end? Turns people into blue goo? It’s pretty important to me. Like, BEST FRIEND important. That melty stick is the only real pal I have.”

    The Grandmaster gives the man a very staged, very SAD look. 

    “You wouldn’t’ve happened to have picked it up...or seen someone else pick it up, would you?”

[storiesbecame-a-blog]

beverly:

(¸.• ♛ → “Excuse me” She called the person that was near her “Have you seen a bracelet around here?” She asked because Beverly has been walking around to try and explore this place but her bracelet just fell and now she just couldn’t find it so now she was trying to ask people around here, from this area.

@storiesbecame (Alya) liked for a starter

    Alya han’t been paying attention -- she had only JUST discovered that there isn’t any internet around this town. Meaning, NO Ladyblog, much to her dismay. She’s standing on a bench, craning her arms to try and reach any sort of signal, when the other girl’s voice startles her back to the present.

    “A bracelet?” She jumps down, a wrinkled expression crossing her features before reaching into her jacket pocket and pulling out the small little piece of jewelry she had found in the grass only just that day. Something had told her she was supposed to keep it safe -- she supposes she had been right.

    “Does it look like this?”

[storiesbecame-a-blog]

starter for @ofcrescvnts​ !

    “Has anybody taught you how to use one of these, dear?”

    She’s cleaning her rifle, polishing the scope as she crouches on the ground just outside the mall complex. Alone, save for the girl who seems just as INQUISITIVE as she is kind.

    “Perhaps not one of these -- I do not think such a weapon exists outside of my own possession. But every person -- every woman -- should know how to defend herself.”

    Ana offers her a small smile. “Don’t you agree?”

[storiesbecame-a-blog]

starter for @ofscavengcrs ( wanda ) !

    “Oooh. You’re that lady with the red magic. The -- the swooshy, destroy-everything-in-my-path kinda deal. I like that...can you lift stuff with your mind? Or wait, can you READ minds? Because I heard you can read minds.”

    With his arms folded, The Grandmaster regards the woman with a pleased, albeit CURIOUS expression. This world is so BORING -- it’s hard to find anything worth paying attention to. But a lady with powers? That’s something The Grandmaster could potentially make use of.

    If she didn’t crack his skull wide open first.

    “I don’t mean to be rude -- you can call me The Grandmaster. I’m not really “The Grandmaster” of anything right now. Considering this isn’t Sakaar. And I don’t have my melting stick handy. But feel free to call me that anyway!”

[storiesbecame-a-blog]

amelie:

                    when talon kidnapped her, they were eager to put forward a few things into her mind. the first & foremost was to kill her husband, gérard— their priority at the time. but soon after that was placed, they made sure that she obeyed the commands of talon’s inner council & understood their goal… strengthening humanity through conflict. widowmaker’s broken mind embraced that idea. it’s one of the reason why she’s willing to show where she is instead of leaving an overwatch member be.

                    the side of her lips lift up to form a faint smirk, yellow hues carefully watching the result of her action— she sees weakness in her movement. defensiveness. fear. her head tilts to the side, long indigo hair following suite, curiosity & admiration to her work in her mind— she hasn’t experienced those emotions for a long time. she can barely remember how they felt. watching ana have them is similar to recalling the few past memories she was able to regain, as though she was watching it from the eyepiece of her scope or through a number of thick glass— distant, unrelatable.

                    lowering her weapon to a more casual carry, her empty hand lifts up to her face, pads of her fingers pressing gently against her purple lips before directing its tips towards ana. a blown kiss. completed with the hint of victorious attitude.  “  you’ve hesitated once, chérie, & you hesitate once more. when you will stop, qui vivra verra.  ”

    Her teeth clench. But a lifetime’s worth of training and fighting, and later HIDING and SURVIVING is enough to keep her composure cool and nearly unreadable. Few could detect the heavy SADNESS nor the clench of rage in her chest, save for the tension in her jaw she’s always held tightly in times of stress.

    “You give me no reason to shoot. You are just like the rest of us here, Amelie; lost. Without proper direction as you always have been since you joined Talon.”

    And though her bitterness is calmly controlled, it is the SADNESS that breaks her voice. The wretched sorrow for a lost friend -- a lost traitor. The years that passed between their last encounter and now did not lessen the near-fatal blow that injured Captain Amari and sent her into hiding; away from her friends. Away from her daughter.

    “Time will tell when you will answer for what you’ve done. You do not seem as ready to kill me as you did during our last encounter.”

[storiesbecame-a-blog]

starter for @willsurrendered !

    She doesn’t like the LOOK in the other, younger woman’s eye -- and Ana is reminded, yet again, that it is nothing she hasn’t seen before. All Talon agents ( or any perpetrator of evil and harm ) look the same. Intelligent, cunning, and cruel; a desire for power above all else. Ana does not have to know Moira’s name to know she can only mean trouble.

    “Tell me -- what is stopping me from putting you down where you stand? Haven’t you hurt enough people in your world before this one?”

[storiesbecame-a-blog]

roberta:

    The last thing the woman remembered was nose diving without any control to the ground in the droid that was set to destroy whatever remained of man in the zombie hellish landscape. She remembers the heat of the engine crashing, she remembering the fear in her chest – and now … now she felt miles away from where she had been.    It was disorientating; almost like waking up on Zona after the rooftop showdown with The Man. She had just as few answers as she had back then; and it give her an odd and nasty sense of daja vu that made her skin crawl.     Her teeth grits and she looks over her shoulder, turning to take in the park that she seemed to be in - it was a populated town, from the looks of it, like the ones of Pre-Z days. Or of Zona.     “ – I swear to God, if this is another paradise gone wrong, I quit the apocalypse,” she breaths – more to herself, but loud enough for anyone near her to hear.

    “You can say that again.”

    Murphy feels blindsided; her voice comes out of nowhere. He’d been hoping he could score a drink ( or three ), at least to clear his head of this latest apocalypse adventure ( if that’s what this is -- and he’s nearly sure of it ). Surely, he should have been swallowed whole by the Black Rainbow by now. So should she.

    But he’s long since given up on making sense of the world around him.

    “Roberta.” But if one thing  DOES make sense, it’s the sense of genuine, honest, pure  RELIEF at seeing her alive. He’s holding himself back; but only briefly. He only has so much self control --

    And with a steely expression, he grabs her hand, staring at her as though verifying that she TRULY is alive -- and not just some figment of his overactive imagination. Perhaps he grabs her just SLIGHTLY too hard. Too quickly. But he couldn’t hurt her, he knows -- intentionally, or otherwise. Not her. Not Roberta, who is made of nothing but IRON.

[storiesbecame-a-blog]

starter for @cursedrequiem ( ray ) !

    Oh Force. Jyn doesn’t even bother trying to hide her deadpan stare. She had heard there was somebody who was SORT OF a doctor in the town, who was staying close by -- and she didn’t want to have to make a fuss about the cut on her finger ( even if it was from a rusty nail ). Nevertheless, she would really rather not have to remove any limbs due to an untreated infection.

    It’s the man’s rather FAMILIAR face that makes her stare. And Jyn says nothing at all.

    “...A rusty nail cut my finger,” she says in a flat monotone. Her stare is becoming outright RUDE now -- and still. She doesn’t care.

    “It needs...fixed.”

[storiesbecame-a-blog]

starter for @besottedsouls ( bruce ) !

    “This yours?”

    He’s a scientist, she knows -- but that’s about all she knows of the man. Bernard ( or was it Bryce? BRUCE? Benson? She’d go with Bernard for now -- ) Banner is walking ahead of her when she holds out a small notebook in her hand, grimacing slightly as she keeps a slight distance from him. Even though he’s small. And looks like he isn’t capable of hurting much MORE than a large salmon.

    “It was on the sidewalk. Think it might rain soon -- didn’t want it to get wet.”