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Aurora Rose Andersen's journal

Apr. 16th, 2009 02:11 am Writer's Block: Theme Song

What song would you choose as the theme song for your life?


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When I think about my life, I think about my roots at the Commune. Dylan's songs are part of my blood as much as the the desire to leave this world maybe a little better.

With how I have changed and been changed, with what I've seen, and the choices I have made, there is only one song that comes to mind. There is so much terror and wonder to this life, that I can't explain it to someone who hasn't been there. So, this song ends up doing the explaining as much as anything.


Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, where have you been, my darling young one?
I've stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains,
I've walked and I've crawled on six crooked highways,
I've stepped in the middle of seven sad forests,
I've been out in front of a dozen dead oceans,
I've been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard,
And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard,
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.

Oh, what did you see, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, what did you see, my darling young one?
I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it
I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it,
I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin',
I saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin',
I saw a white ladder all covered with water,
I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken,
I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children,
And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.

And what did you hear, my blue-eyed son?
And what did you hear, my darling young one?
I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin',
Heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world,
Heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin',
Heard ten thousand whisperin' and nobody listenin',
Heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin',
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter,
Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley,
And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.

Oh, who did you meet, my blue-eyed son?
Who did you meet, my darling young one?
I met a young child beside a dead pony,
I met a white man who walked a black dog,
I met a young woman whose body was burning,
I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow,
I met one man who was wounded in love,
I met another man who was wounded with hatred,
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.

Oh, what'll you do now, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, what'll you do now, my darling young one?
I'm a-goin' back out 'fore the rain starts a-fallin',
I'll walk to the depths of the deepest black forest,
Where the people are many and their hands are all empty,
Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters,
Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison,
Where the executioner's face is always well hidden,
Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten,
Where black is the color, where none is the number,
And I'll tell it and think it and speak it and breathe it,
And reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it,
Then I'll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin',
But I'll know my song well before I start singin',
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.

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Sep. 13th, 2007 05:47 pm A year here, and this is what I learned

I'm on monitor duty again tonight, and the running joke is that I like it a bit too much.

It gives me time to think. That's why I like it.

And thought for tonight?


The first rule of the Titans is "Titans Together." Means that no one's stronger than everyone. That part's not so different, except it applies to fights AND cooking.

The second rule, which accounts for much of the first, and is not really said aloud is that "We Are All Exiles."

It's taken me nothing short of a year to go through all the mission logs, all the profiles, and watch everyone I can in action. The history here is of ruined worlds and dead famlies, homes no one can get to again. So, you cast your lot in with a bunch of other Exiles in a big ol' tower where the JLA doesn't take you seriously until another damn brawl starts, and folks figure out there's bigger things to fight than one another.

Azarath, Themescarya, Tamaran, circuses, Doom Patrol. Door closes, and you end up taking a sledgehammer and making a new door, hoping there's someone banging on the other side of that wall.

And when nothing else makes sense, see rule #1, because that just might.

Current Mood: awake

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Aug. 21st, 2007 01:14 pm

Satanna was taken by a group below the streets, many of them metahumans with nowhere to go. Satanna herself was possessed by Brother Blood.

Papa was part of Blood's church once. Almost became a pastor. He doesn't talk about that much, and judging by what I've seen in the Titan mission logs, I don't think I want to ask any questions about what he might or might not have seen there.

She was hurt...badly. I could tell. There's something in the posture, words that almost get to one's tongue and get choked on before getting put aside in favor of ones better suited for company. Most of the Groundlings had nothing to do with it, but a handful of them?

They tortured her for days, weeks even. Fists, sticks, words. And rape. Probably multiple ones. She was in that shower until the hot water was used up.

I'm...I'm not sure what I can say, or even if I should try to talk with her. I wasn't hurt quite like that in the lab. Had tubes, wires and instruments shoved everywhere and a ton of chemicals dumped in my blood, but nothing like that.

Speaking of that lab? One of the Groundlings was the guy who was in the cage across from mine. He looks like a cross of a rodent, a bat, and the kid of about 15 that I remember. I don't even think he can speak anymore. Maybe he's too changed and his mouth can't form the words, or maybe the beast in his mind has pretty much taken over and he's forgetting what's left of being human.

He tried to attack me, but when we recognized one another, we realized that we didn't have to fight. He ran off somewhere. Maybe he came back to the Groundlings, I dunno. I do know that our positions could have been reversed too easily.

Current Mood: confused

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Dec. 19th, 2006 12:10 am Aftermath and public debut

Seems that the whole JLA and Titan brawl was the result of some guy screwing around with everyone's emotions. Still...another incident like that, and someone may not make it out. Not to mention the innocents that could suffer and die as a result.

Thanksgiving came, and there was pie and turkey for all. People apologized, things seemed cool among the capes. Brother Nightwing's little girl, Cerdian, and Lian are okay. I have to wonder if Black and Blue put me with the kids because of the Dominion incidient. Anything or anyone threaten those kids and...well, let's just say I'd feel the guilt MUCH later.

Now, there's some kind of action coming up. As part of my "apprenticeship," I'm going to make my first public appearance there. My stomach is tied up in knots just thinking about it. I mean, lobbying and protesting, I know how to do. Standing at a table and answering questions, I can do very well. Activist Aurora has no trouble standing in public. But I've never "gone public" as Fauna. Maybe part of me still feels like the mask and costume I wear is nothing to be proud of.

Well, here goes nothing.

Current Mood: nervous

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Nov. 20th, 2006 03:09 pm What?

We're up to our eyeballs in dying children. We don't have a cure. Everything's in a panic...

And what do the heroes do? Beat the snot out of one another!

Contrary to apparent belief, I'm not an idiot. I can hear a change in their voices when they talk of their mentors. There's a hitch, or a long pause, or they look at their shoes first.

So they and their elders don't get on so well. That's something I get. What breaks my brain is why beating each other up is more important than saving these kids.

Did I make a horrible mistake?

Current Mood: confused

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Sep. 25th, 2006 12:28 pm Letter to Gotham

Dear Dr. Thompkins,

Your last letter almost didn't arrive, and it's been rather late. I hope you're doing all right. I asked Tefe if someone was keeping an eye on your clinic, at least.

Training is difficult. It's very hard to break the conditioning not to strike, even if self-defense. Knowing I'll be dealing with nastier people than the militia that was attacking home did drive the point, though. There's no way you can walk away from the dominant structure of force. The people at my home tried walking away, building a remote colony to isolate themselves as much as possible from the world, and even they got hit. So, defending others seems to be the best way to make sense of the conflict, though that conflict might always be there.

I'm learning how to drive. I'm still nervous going at top speeds, but if I have to get someone away from a problem really fast? Well, that'll be useful. The shifting? Well, you know who's helping with that. I just hope he remembers to keep pushing. This is very difficult for him, the prospect that I'll be there with him when the trouble hits, rather than thousands of miles away. On the other hand, we're thrilled to be spending time together.

There's still a long way to go. Oh, and we got a new guy at the house. Name's Grant. I managed to say the exact wrong thing when we met up, but I hope I can apologize in person. He seems like a decent guy. Construction worker, had a bit of trouble and ended up coming here because that's where his family was.

Anyway, not a lot of time left before mail pickup. Good luck and warm thoughts.

Peace and love,

Aurora

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Sep. 11th, 2006 10:47 am

In the memorial garden, Aurora lights a single candle. Underneath, a news clipping listing the scores of dead among FDNY five years earlier.

One name is highlighted.

Frank Armstrong.

"God's speed, Ash. Thank you."

Current Location: Titans Tower, memorial garden
Current Mood: melancholy

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Sep. 6th, 2006 03:20 pm Training Sequence.

She's gone to the gym, heading up to the pull-up bar and . So caught up in what she's doing that she hardly notices him coming in the back door.

Read more... )

((Transcribed from private chat last night.))

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Aug. 23rd, 2006 12:37 pm The End

It's over - in more ways than one.

Bart has nothing but contempt for my community. Kory's confused, Donna's...Donna, and Gar is feeling pretty bad. Black and Blue? Who knows what he's thinking?


Chief Boneshirt and her crew - firefighters, the FBI, more cop cars than I've ever seen - they're cleaning up the mess.

And most of my people? They distrust strangers so much now that they up and fled, most of them. To hear my mom babbling in terror? Where once, I remembered the attitude was "beat us down, we will rise," it's become a constant fear.

Damn you, McKay. You had my home under siege for a YEAR, bullying people and posturing like you're some bigshot liberator when all you are is a bully, taking your hate for all that is different out on a population that's never done you harm. You were too chicken to go after the Rez. Lavoie keeps a pistol under his counter, and Boneshirt would have you in cuffs. George Standing Ox would hear one word of your bullshit and probably lose his cool.

But, in their own way, we are to blame, every resident of Clearwater. I'll bet the methods were tried. They probably rode out to meet him and someone got hurt. They probably tried to hold their ground when the bullies came into town and that would explain the north barn. It wasn't enough. These guys were too hell-bent on picking a fight, so the best they managed was a stalemate - no, a surrender. And as much pain as these people were dishing out, they could not trust enough to ask for help. They tried to handle it on their own, in their own way - just like I did when I started in with birds and horses, rather than my friends.

Bart showed me the magazine. Brother Joe marked most of the pages with footnotes and insulting comments, "publicity whores" being among the mildest comments. He didn't think to ask, he just assumed that they were behind my disappearance, that they had brainwashed me and that Gar couldn't possibly love as deeply, being rich. After all, one just assumes the rich are evil, that they have no love but their gold. And the. Belief that these masked men are nothing more than a shadow arm of the cops, or publicity hounds who torment people for fun, profit, and fame.

Damn, on some things, we ARE as our enemies - hating what is different, what isn't part of what they have been taught.

The flour sacks and hay bales make for good targets for that practice Ms Lance was having me work on. I've got to work harder, though.

Current Mood: crappy
Current Music: "The Times, They are A'Changin"

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Aug. 19th, 2006 07:31 am Stupid, stupid

Nice fucking going, you dumb hick. You go feral and go off like an idiot.

Black and Blue could give Brother Joseph lessons.

Damn. Every instinct I have is saying I'm alone in this. It's one thing to volunteer your support. Another thing to trust you're supported. Especially in something like this.

No fucking way Vegas would help, save Ash. And being insubstantial kinda limits options...

Fuck the excuses and explanations. You got the bitching out you earned. You did not act like a member of the community. You acted like the Vegas crew.

What was that line? "Hyperspace ain't like dusting crops?"

He's at least allowing me this chance to help rescue my family.

And he's the goddamn pro. I'm the idiot more likely to get everyone killed.

Focus, Au- Fauna. You will get everyone killed if you don't fucking FOCUS!

Current Mood: stressed

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Aug. 18th, 2006 03:32 pm

They will NOT have my home. They will not kill my family and burn us to the ground.

I heard the gunshots. I've summoned and begged as many animals to help as I can. They will come to their base to find it ruined.

Hopefully, the commotion will confuse them enough.

And, if I don't make it, I just hope Mom and Dad can forgive me for trying.

Current Mood: feral

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Aug. 15th, 2006 08:44 pm You Can't go Home again.

It's my old room, but the comfy straw bed has been turned into a double - all the better to put someone up when the come to visit.

Now, make that an "if."

I wanted to show my friends where I came from and the peace it taught me, but damned if the bullies and the war the whole world fights haven't invaded. If Kory thought I was nuts behorehand for my insistance on strict reigning in of my anger, she probably would send me to Arkham for it now.

And even with this, I'm feeling that pressure to make oaths I was so eager to take once I returned home - oaths I can't make anymore. Worse, I know Brother Joseph was disappointed. He had it in his head I'd come back and marry Aslan. Now, Aslan's dead and I come home with people he obviously won't trust until or unless they claim the pacifist ideal.

But my Papa almost died tonight! That man would have shot him in sheer spite.

I bunny-shifted. First time I've done that since the Plague. It was all too much. I don't know why I feel so ashamed, but I do.

Only bright side? Gar makes Mama and Papa laugh. They like him, and they aren't put off by his appearance. Now, he's just holding me, trying to tell me that we'll come up with something.

And he's breathtaking by starlight. That's worth mentioning.

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Aug. 5th, 2006 08:00 pm A year now?

In October of 2004, I was taken from that protest. Sometime near Thanksgiving that year, I was locked inside a room and "reminded" that no one would care about me anymore. That all I was was just a freak that was better off hidden. Ash didn't have to bother with locks, so he came to visit all the time. Lady Luck probably was sympathetic, but no one tried to cross Mr. Blake. Ash convinced me, when I was about to...do something very drastic, that I still had options. I still could live. I stole about three hundred dollars from the payment made on that last "job" and ran. Living didn't seem like such a great idea, but Ash made it clear that getting his boss's attention wasn't too good a prospect, either.

So, I spend half a year in Gotham. Go back to school, get my job with Ms. Lance. Try to just...pretend it didn't happen. But, Gotham is a great place to hide. It's not home. Making friends was also daunting. It's a whole other culture out there, one based on a lot of everything the Commune Elders warned me about - corruption, selfishness, competition over collaboration, the rule of guns and money...and there's so many who buy into it. And the ones that I would have been friends with? Well, how good of friends can you really be with someone when there's this secret you almost want to scream? IT HAPPENED, DAMN IT! And getting intimate? Oh, take everything I said about friends, double it, and add a fear factor that I'd lose control and end up either disgusting them or worse! But after a while, you...get used to it. No, not really, but inertia kicks in and you keep your head down, do whatever it takes to distract yourself from it, and keep reminding yourself that this is the price you're going to have to pay.

Ash comes by. Checking up on me, he says. That's when the phone rings. And that's where it all begins.

I take a complete shot in the dark, and end up...I see horrible things I can't begin to describe, and I see a group of people every bit as bound and dedicated to each other as anything out of the Commune. And when one of them dies horribly before my eyes, everything changes. Walk away and dismiss the world as hopeless? No. That became every bit as selfish as anything I've seen the the "corrupted world" of Gotham.

And coming out of a haze of blind anger, I see this wonderful man. Strong body, kind eyes and a big smile. He saw me at my worst, and wasn't afraid of me or turned off by the frighting things I was capable of. He wasn't because he was a shapeshifter, too, changed so signifigantly that he never had the option of trying to hide. He was a frog who forgot he was a prince.

He picked me up and took me to his home, a place full of people who could do terrible and amazing things, defending (and sometimes dying for) a world that sometimes worships them, sometimes fears them, but never quite understands them. There's no "happily ever after" to this fairy tale. "The End" is in the form of Donna's statues, and it's as much work as the Commune and then some. It's still a dream come true. Ash taught me how to keep surviving.

Garfield Mark Logan, you taught me how to live.

I love you, and thank you.

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Jul. 30th, 2006 12:41 am Dear Mom and Papa

Mom, Papa...

No, this is something important, not a note I've gone to the trading post or something.

Dear Mom and Papa,

Better, but still a little stilted. *sigh*

Dear Mom and Papa,

Remember that protest in October? The one where I ended up missing, only to be "found" some weeks later, apparantly unharmed? Well, I told you then that it was a mistake, that some overzealous cop gassed me with pepper spray and I ended up having a bad reaction. Only part of that was true. I did have a bad reaction, but it wasn't a cop that made me vanish. Much worse.

Long story short - I've become what some folks call a "metahuman." Whatever I got nailed changed me in fundamental ways I don't have words to explain. A lot of those changes are terrifying, I won't lie. The guy who masterminded this is still...still President.

But, the important thing is that I'm not facing this alone. I couldn't admit what I was to you because I was afraid that you would stop loving me. I...can't blame you if you decide to disown me over what I've become. You see, I've met some people. They're honest people, good people, and they've dedicated their lives to standing up to bullies and tyrants. You won't like their methods, though. They're "capes," and I made my decision to aid them in any way I can. A lot of the trouble they face isn't the kind they "bring on themselves" as I once believed.

One of these people is a man I love with all my heart. When I felt like a freak and a monster, he showed me I wasn't - that I didn't have to spend my life hiding and running. His metahuman talents are pretty similar to mine, but he's lived with them for most of his life, turning his own tragedies into a chance for others to survive. He's the sweetest, kindest, funniest person you could imagine. Everything he does, he puts his big, green heart into it.

His friends? Equally wonderful people. Victor can be a little gruff, but he cares about the people around him. Under other circumstances, he'd be on the Founders' Council or something like it. Donna's an Earth Mother who takes beautiful photographs and honors the dead with sculptures so that others never forget. Kory is so open and honest, and her daughter Mar'i is much the same. They have such enthusiasm for life and all it brings. Oh, and Kory's garden - it's incredible! No picture can do justice to it. They've all helped me so much, and while I'm not a Titan, I will do anything and everything to aid them that I can.


Aurora puts down the pencil and stretches her hand, working out the cramp.

Current Mood: indescribable

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Jul. 1st, 2006 02:13 pm

Hello again, this is Bill Pierce, host of I'm Right and Your Not!

I listen to this show and others like it so I know what talking points I'm going to have to duck. Same principle of Gar cranking up the settings on the training room or Ms. Lance pulling punches and holds less during her lessons. I'm gonna live here, I'm gonna be part of this world, I need to be prepped for it. I'm coordinating Gotham's LexWatch, in defiance of my...history with the man. Tommy in Metropolis vanished and is presumed dead. Patti, my predecessor, turned up dead.

Cape or no cape, Gar. Life as Aurora and life as Fauna's both a dice roll by now.

I changed my major from agriculture to botany with an emphasis on herbalism. In the best case scenario, I can open a little shop somewhere near Mom and Dad's. I can make peace with this and retire quietly. In the worst case, I can support myself in a city like this, where there is demand for those who would rather trust in Nature than a pharmacutical company's concoction. I'll start Junior year in the Fall Quarter.

Somewhere in sleeply Kansas there is going to be an event to worship the metahuman.

Worship? Heh. This guy oughtta hear Brother Joe, or hit a meeting of "No Gods, No Capes, No Masters." The "Amazonker" comment gets me really pissed. Princess Diana's book was what I read to keep myself awake on the bus trip here. Donna's mentioned Diana's her sister, which would make her some kinda princess, too...Wow, again. Stuff I'm better off not thinking a lot about. Donna's such a sweet person. She doesn't deserve this crap. Yeah, she probably gets this all the time, though.

When she called for Ash's and my help, it changed my life so profoundly. The "capes" no longer became some abstraction - campus gossip, the loud covers on stuff that I can't believe they killed a tree to print. They were real, living people who could laugh, love, hurt, bleed...even die like everyone else. (OK, so the last has some wierdness attached. Again, better off not giving a lot of thought to it). Under those masks, beneath that kevlar and whatever else, they're just folks.

That's right the metahumans, and not just American ones but Amazonker metas, FishHead metas, and other sort of metas that happen to fail the in the evolutionary process.

Gee, acknowledging evolution is a big step for you, bucko.


Metahumans....why are they worshipping them! They constantly break our laws and call it justice. They assualt citizens for crimes without being law enforcement officers. They sneak around at night wearing masks and call it protecting thier idenitites. Protect themselves from what?! Prosecution when they screw up, which is often.

I believed this once. I believed the only dangers the "superheroes" saved us from were trouble they brought about themselves, then inflicted on the rest of us. Part of me still wonders about whether I'm doing the right thing or just got sucked in. What would the world be like without them? Would it be a lot more peaceful?

I'm not bright enough to give answers like that. I just do the best I can and muddle through the day like every other homo sapien. Hate me all you like, but don't worship me.

I also believed in the masks comment. If these guys were really on the side of angels, why wear masks and hide behind strange nicknames? We DO flout the Fourth Amendment, sometimes the Eighth, occasionally the Sixth. We're dead fucking wrong in those regards. The mask, though? there are three hundred and ten reasons for it in California. I advertise I'm Aurora Rose Andersen, and it gives some very bad people an excuse to do things to people who don't deserve paying for my choices. A less-noble reason is that I have zero idea how to approach the subject. "Hi, Mom. Hi, Papa. Hello, everybody. I live a life flouting and disregarding everything you taught me here."


MetaWaste ...heh heh...thats what we'll call 'em from now on...MetaWastes... wastes of time for the American people... but I disgress. People are going to dress up as thier favorite MetaWaste and worship the ground they float over.

Hate me for being a hypocrite. Remind me of the laws I break. Put forth a good case on how I belong in Arkham, hopped up on chemicals and "therapy" because I'm doing this to cope with the nightmare of a lab in Vegas. Call me a traitor, terrorist, criminal, and whatever because the President himself green-lighted it.

Don't worship me.


As if that isn't bad enough there is also going to be a group who want to dress up as... what was that term....'Furries' to 'Yiff' each other. Thier idolitry of the metahuman has made it acceptible to dress up as animals for one purpose. 'Yiffing' Now apparently 'Yiffing' is ...ugh... two people ...pleasuring each other in animal costumes!

Whoo boy...where do I begin? Maybe it's better I don't, though part of me would love to see that guy's brain fry.

Current Music: "I Don't Care Anymore" Phil Collins

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Jun. 12th, 2006 11:59 am Man, oh man

Can't keep it up forever, Aurora. Only a matter of time before you slip up and admit you're in with the kind of people Mom warned you about. Like the boss who wears fishnets and Kevlar on her night job, your boyfriend's really gruff best buddy who keeps chrome polish next to the soap, or that the lady who keeps that gorgeous garden is some kind of alien royalty.

And, it's not just knowing they'd flip over my friends. It's knowing they'd be ashamed of me, once they saw what I became. I mean, becoming a "meta," as its called, would be frightening enough. Knowing that I have a black and green "evening dress" with a mask, and wear it a couple evenings a week dumping muggers into the lake or getting the fratboys to pull stunts that are slightly less destructive?

I haven't been home since this happened, and I don't even know where or how or if to explain any of it. I tell them about classes, about the flower shop, and leave out just enough details about the Tower that I hope they still think it's a "alternative-lifestyle" communal household.

*sigh* I so much want Mom and Papa to meet my friends and Gar. I just have no idea what kind of disaster it'll be.

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Jan. 31st, 2006 06:48 pm

To: troia@titans.net

From: aandersen@gothamu.edu

Subject: Hello

Hi, Donna

How's Roy and Lian? And are you doing okay? Last time I talked to you, it wasn't the best of situations.

Gar's doing okay, at least according to his last letter.Supposedly, Querl is now at the Tower. Met him at the chili party. Seems a little lacking in manners, but he doesn't seem to be used to people, either. Hope Victor's hanging in there. Can't be easy, having his job.

Gotta sign off - the next bus to work leaves in ten minutes. Just letting you know I'm thinking of youu and sending happy vibes your direction.

Peace,
Aurora

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Dec. 31st, 2005 02:04 pm

Click here.
Take the quiz.
Post your results.
See alt_minds2's results. )

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Dec. 12th, 2005 09:27 am Shame

Gar is badly injured - still isn't awake, even though she's been asured he'll regain consciousness soon. Maybe it's a good thing, though. If he were awake, he would be trying to comfort her, trying to give her reassurance she does not deserve, absolution for sins that should never be absolved...

She hasn't eaten since they brought her back, and while she's been given access to a bed, she can't sleep, either.

Blood
Blood

Blood on her hands, still under her nails, all over her clothing - the black and green costume she uses when she goes out to try and put this...(Talent? Blessing? Curse?) to use.

You aren't any better than me, hippie.

Tara Markov may not be sharing headspace with her, but the words and the anger remain behind like someone dropped black paint in a can of white paint.

She is tainted now.

Current Mood: dirty

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Nov. 22nd, 2005 11:29 pm When Terra's trying to sneak around the Tower...


Tell me, hillbilly, just what brought you to salad-brain? What makes something like you attractive, aside from him being hard-up? What can I use outta you?




"Bullies seek power because they are scared. They are just as - no,
more scared of us - what we represent. The bully - whether he's in office, carries a baton, or is trying to grab your lunch money. Same thing. Bullies are so afraid of being hurt that they hurt first...They see folks living without the need for control over others, and they can't grasp it. The most terrifying thing a bully can face is the idea that they cannot get the control over other folks they want - no, NEED - to have..."

Star City LexWatch. Aurora is teaching the ten or so other students that are taking a couple hours out of a Saturday to go to the Student Center for a workshop on nonviolent resistance. This is two days before they head to LexCorp's regional headquarters. The basics have been covered - property damage is not a valid option, do not provoke the police - keep a fair distance from them if possible, leave pocketknives and such at home. Carry a handkerchief soaked in apple vinegar for if tear gas gets used. The memory carries chilling connotations for Aurora now. The protest they're preparing for is the one where she was made to vanish.


****

Oh, phuleeze! Get to the juicy bits!


You wanted the history, you get all of it.

The plane ride from Greece. She's curled up under a thermal blanket, still sans clothing. She was woozy and dizzy from the aftereffects of "beasting out." Due to a combination of that and ignorance, she had neither the strength or the wit to realize she was traveling back to the States with one of the most legendary superhero teams.

The green color is odd, but with what else she's seen today, it doesn't bother Aurora at all. He has a handsome face with kind eyes. Oh, and those hands...


****

You're doing this to piss me off.


Yup.
****

The two most important things - she felt instantly safe with him, and that he was a creature-shifter like she was. Only, he was a creature shifter who couldn't (and wouldn't) hide what he was. Aurora was curious about so much regarding him, had so many questions she wanted to ask if only she could think through the pain and the vertigo.

"I was protesting LexCorps use of animal testing. It was wrong to hurt creatures like that. As I was getting on my bike to go home, two thugs nabbed me. they said they were going to 'make an example' of me."

She swallowed. Might as well get it over with. Just talking about it makes her feel like she's back there, but this guy did help her out, and he probably won't freak out about this kind of bad news.

"It was days...maybe weeks. I was cooped up in there, tied down, lying in my own..." She shuddered. "And injections...and pills...Those assholes were experimenting on homeless people. I think I was picked up to scare off the other activists. When the lab was crashed, one of the scientists pulled a gun. He was going to shoot. I...tackled him, and he threw me into a shelf full of junk they were working on. It got all over me."

She looks past him now, into the past, into the crazy things that led her here. She still hasn't seen Ash since the fight. Maybe she'll never see him again. He was like her guardian angel back in Vegas. He understood why she had to leave, why she was running.

"I don't know what they were doing, to be honest. I...found out about this in the hospital. There was a low-level team in Vegas that took me in, but..." She sighs. "They wanted my powers, not me. I ran. Took the first Greyhound out of town, wound up in Gotham. Been hiding there ever since."

Shock crosses Garfield's face before it goes to sympathy. He's tired, too.

"You don't need to hide," he told Aurora, reaching for her. "Not any more."


***

Ugh. Sugar coma. And here I woulda thought -


I'm not you, and rather glad for that.

****

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