are you going to age without mistakes?

[magnitudes]

WHO: Sarissa & various.
WHERE: ALSO various.
WHEN: throughout July.
WHAT: a catch-all log
WARNINGS: TBA
NOTE: Please don't hesitate to contact me if you'd like things with Sarissa or my others!

Starters in the comments.

Comments

BETH CHILDS.

[magnitudes]

( Sarissa's counting down the days to being able to actually get out of this probationary period and into being a detective. Also to being able to get out of this uniform and into detective clothes, which are better largely because they're hers and not a uniform that she lives in fear of getting powdered sugar on.

She also can't wait to get out of sitting in patrol cars and clocking speeds, meeting target numbers for tickets. It's important work, but it's not the work she enjoys - though being stuck in a job you didn't enjoy seemed a pretty universal part of the human experience, and maybe not worthy of complaint. With that in mind, she stares blankly at the speed gun, and sighs heavily as a she makes a mental list of groceries to pick up on the way home.

And then there comes a speeding moron. Quick smart she pulls out to pursue the erratic driver, before she hits the siren to indicate the car should pull over.

Apparently arrival time was always this crazy. People not used to this world, to cars, to flying cars, people having emotional breakdowns over this insanity. She shakes her head, and boggles - not for the first time - at how crazy this world is, as she approaches the car, rolling her shoulders. )

laughs cries

[brandishes]

( It's approximately two hours since Beth's arrival, and it's going....interestingly. Mostly because she's still not entirely certain that this isn't some kind of hellish limbo, but also because if it isn't, well then that's just so much worse. It doesn't take her long to rent a car, and if the face she's wearing is familiar to anyone they certainly don't show it.

As soon as she gets behind the wheel, she's gone.

She only really becomes aware of what's going on when she sees flashing lights in her rear view mirror. Beth's first instinct is to just raise a hand in a wave and keep going, and it takes a second for her to realise that no, actually, those lights are for her. Just like that a pit sits in her stomach and she glances at the speedometer-- Jesus.

By the time she's pulled over onto the side of the road she has let all sorts of obscenities fly, but once she winds the window down her face screws up and she gives a wry, slightly charming smile. )

Hey, so-- ( She has a spiel about being new and unaware ready, oh and by the way did she mention she's a cop back home, but the words all but disappear when the person rolls up to the car door. For a second she thinks she's looking into a mirror, some kind of sick Ghosts of Christmas' Past, Present or Future, and she lets out a harsh barking laugh as one of her palms slams open against the steering wheel. ) oh, you've got to be kidding me.

[magnitudes]

( Oh, shit.

To be fair, it's not like Sarissa is unfamiliar with seeing people with her face. Three of the best people she met people all happened to have genetics that were impressively similar (but not identical, not similar enough) to her, right down to the face. Alison, Cosima, Sarah - there were others that had been here, were here, but they were the ones she knew, and that she counted as her sisters.

This wasn't one of them. The voice is different, the way all their voices are, the hair, the clothes. Everything. There's something tugging in her mind, but there's not enough information. There's just a long pause as Sarissa looks at the woman in front of her, and with the slow drag of her accent that makes her words seem to lilt and sway, replies, )

License and registration. ( Gently, almost, as she looks at the woman. ) That the reaction from seeing this face on someone else before, or never?

[brandishes]

( She hits the steering wheel again once, just for good measure, before she grabs her handbag and starts violently combing through her belongings. It's hardly the most mature response, but Beth would rather be seen to be having a temper tantrum than what is actually happening - that is, the blood rushing through her ears in a deafening roar, throat closing, muscles tightening.

She was supposed to be done. This was supposed to be over.

By the time she finds a relevant piece of card and presses it over without a word, Beth's smile is back. It's obviously entirely false, all teeth and barely masked aggression simmering below the surface, and honestly she looks more like a shark than anyone who might be able to talk their way out of a speeding fine. )

It's not my first rodeo. ( She's certainly more calm when she talks now, but there's a tenseness in her jaw that comes through in her speech. It's all very tightly wound, and after a brief pause she gestures vaguely at Sarissa. ) I uh, I didn't know we came in Australian flavours. Koalas, nice.

night of july 9; cw for suicidal ideation, excessive drinking, basically everything

[coppelganger]

[ Sarah is not in a good way. She spends most of the evening inside one dive bar in the seediest downtown area of Nonah, switches to a second bar after the first cuts her off (bastards), and it's there that she texts Sarissa, half blind from booze and the smoky interior of the bar. Each time she sends off a texts, she forgets what it said—but that doesn't matter. Doesn't matter because even despite the drinks and whatever else she's had tonight, nothing can cover up the sick, sinking feeling in her chest, like she's being sucked slowly under black water.

Beth. Bethbethbethbethbeth. Fucking following her, always. And Sarissa wouldn't even warn her. The bitch.

At some point she's lying with her head on the bar, one arm folded underneath it, and the bartender—meaning well—takes her phone. The string of texts to Sarissa are still on the screen, overbright, and he sends a message: This girl is drunk in my bar. I need her out of here. The address is sent along with the message, and he places the phone back down next to Sarah, who rouses herself enough to process the fact that someone, someone, has taken her personal property from her and fucked with it and tried to give it back without her noticing.

She's not sure what happens next, exactly. It's like time has skipped. One second she's in the bar, yelling, maybe trying to hit someone. The next she's on the street, the air warm, humid, and stumbling toward the sound of water. A bridge. Some real black water underneath her, something she could sink under and stay in the dark, cool silence. She slumps against the rails, wondering if she has the strength to pull herself over and let herself fall. ]

BAAAAAAABE

[magnitudes]

( Sarissa got the text, and then she got the blow by blow of Sarah getting kicked out of the bar (and having to settle Sarah's bill, but that's another matter. It doesn't matter, really, because Sarah's her sister and finding her was more important than arguing with some tool who was a tool just for doing their job.)

Outside the bar she was— lost, honestly, trying to figure out which way her sister went, chewing on her lip. Sure, she wasn't really one of Sarah's clones (or one of the Leda clones, or whatever the technically correct way of phrasing it would be) but Sarah was still her family. Maybe that made Beth family, too, but she and Rachel hadn't brought her into this the way Cosima and Alison and Sarah had. And it was always, always Sarah who saved her, helped her.

And maybe Sarah doesn't think it'll count, but the way she was talking, and knowing that Dorian never came back— it makes her heart feel like it'll beat its way right out of her throat. She hears the sound of water, and without another lead, starts running towards it, desperately keeping an eye out for Sarah, until she sees the bridge. And then what was a run turns into a sprint, though she can't run the way she used to, can't feel herself pushing beyond human capability, and though her heart hurts and protests, and by the time she skids along the ground just a little distance from Sarah it feels like its beating out of rhythm, and she has a hand pressed over her chest to try and suppress the discomfort.

Something's wrong, she realises, but this isn't the time to worry about what the hell her heart is doing. She's got to worry about what her other heart is doing. )

Sarah. ( Her breath is ragged, voice weak from it. ) Stop.

don't u babe me

[coppelganger]

[ Sarah turns to look at Sarissa, still leaning against the rail, and for a moment doesn't seem to recognize her. All she sees is that face. And, god, Sarissa's always reminded her of Beth anyway. She only stares at Sarissa and her expression is so lost and so deeply sad, but then Sarissa speaks, and it's the accent that finally forces Sarah into real recognition. ]

I'm not doin' anything. Am I not allowed to go for a walk now? Eh? [ Her voice is slurred, and she waves a hand in Sarissa's direction, sloppy, but the meaning is clear: piss off already. ]

B A B E

[magnitudes]

Don't bullshit me. ( Her lungs feel raw, like someone's taken a scourer to 'em, and she has to hold onto the railing to keep herself steady. )

I know you. I know what's going through your head, 'cause I've been there. Lyin' to me ain't goin' to do any bloody good.

( Because she's here, and she's staying. Because she's here and she has Sarah's back. Because of an endless list of things. )

NANA NANA NANA NANA BRUCE WAYNE

[the_caped_crusader]

[You know, maybe running as ambassador was a bad idea. That is to say, running Wayne Enterprises and being Batman both took up exorbitant amounts of his time, jobs that left him constantly sleep deprived, and instead he decides to run for public official in the municipal government. No, definitely smart.

So, he may be speeding a little bit. A late night as Batman, an early morning speaking with his investors, and now he's on his way to meet with his campaign team. In his bright red sports car. Not very subtle. He doesn't mean to speed! He's just a little tired. And he kind of likes driving fast. Whatever.]

[magnitudes]

( And what do you know, there goes a siren, whoop whoop. Sarissa would ideally prefer to be dealing with a car like that by test driving it and buying it and getting to rev excessively at stoplight, but instead: this.

When he pulls over, she sways out of the car in that strangely fluid way of moving she has, a controlled sort of carelessness, walking over in an immaculate uniform - with aviators, of course. Unlike the time they worked together, her hair is neatly tied back. She was professional then, but this is a different type of professional; less wild, more efficient. )

Good afternoon, sir. ( Her accent still leans into the words strong. ) License and registration, please.

[the_caped_crusader]

[Bruce leans forward to take a suspicious peek at his speedometer, cursing softly at himself before he pulls off onto the handle. The twin exhausts of the car rumble to a stop as he turns off the ignition and rolls down his window.]

Right, of course.

[He reaches into his wallet and glove compartment for the respective documents before handing them to her, eyes concealed by his own pair of expensive wayfarers. He does take a moment to squint at her curiously before casually pointing at her.]

You look familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?

[magnitudes]

I've never heard that before.

( Quiet, good natured, as she examines the license. The implication is: she has heard that before. A lot. )

Bruce Wayne. I'm Officer Theron - I don't think we've met. You're running for Ambassador, right?

( Look at her, knowing things. Given that means he's an ImPort, she adds: ) You might've seen me on the ImPort network. Or, uh, my sisters. We've got one of those faces.

DARLENE, SOMETIME.

[magnitudes]

( Sarissa is trying to socialise her pigs. That's one reason she's out and about with two of the litter on leads, strolling along the street with them like it's totally normal. One is pink all over, save for a splotch of black over her right eye and left hindquarter, and the other is far more speckled. Both seem intent on trying to tangle and trip Sarissa as she walks, forcing her to pause every few steps to re-extricate herself. It's the sort of thing you might hope for a rhythm to eventually set in, but never does. Every movement is awkwardness parkour.

It only gets worse when she's trying to balance a freshly bought coffee, and she lets out an exasperated, ) I'm gonna sell you bastards for hot dogs, if you don't settle down.

( They don't care. They have zero cares. AND THERE IS A PERSON OVER THERE WOW, HOW CONVENIENT, how convenient that they are pulling in Darlene's direction. )

[nastygram]

Dude.

[Darlene reaches up to tip her sunglasses down her nose, the better by which to see... whatever is going on here. She's dressed for summer, knee high boots with chunky heels, short shorts, tanktop. Backpack as always. On her way back home from the coffee shop, this is about the last thing she'd expect to find but

then again, it is Sarissa.]

What the hell, Little House, since when do you have freaking pigs.

[Her smirk puts her firmly in the camp of currently more amused than anything else, but that's because the pigs in question haven't gotten too close yet.]

[magnitudes]

Mate,

( She counters, before a piglet scuttles around her ankle and almost trips her, making her careful reconsider her movements and taking her focus off Darlene for a second. There's a few seconds between Darlene speaking and Sarissa replying, like she has to play the words back, and then she looks up at her with a smile.

It's not sheepish, unfortunately, even if would be barnyard appropriate. )

Few months. Rescue place couldn't get a home for 'em, so I settled them into our barn. Probably should've asked my sister first, ( she adds, comedically whu-hups, without it being terribly contrite or sincere. )

And they ain't just pigs. That's Emilie du Chatelet and that's Henry Rollins.

oh look it's me crawling back in here

[nastygram]

Okay, just because you give one of them a boujee name doesn't make them not pigs.

[Darlene scoots back a step, giving the pigs and Sarissa plenty of space. No matter her distant and unrealized childhood dreams of horses, she is not super cool with nature or farm life. It's not like she had a ton of exposure to either to make her cool.

She can, at least, try to play cool.]

Henry Rollins like, musician, bit part in like twelve movies Henry Rollins, or some regular dude.

KANEKI, CURRENT-ISH

[magnitudes]

( Right about now, Sarissa is done with trying to be responsible. She has been trying, for months, to be good, to always hold it together, to not be so much of a powder keg, to be bushland in danger of hit by a spark. The smallest thing could happen and she'd go up in flames, that was the way she'd been for so long, and ever since Sylar took Sarah and Cosima and Clara, ever since Alison left, she has been trying so hard.

But she's tired, and Jessica hadn't spoken to her for months (until Sarissa arrested her, in fact), and Beth is here, and Sarah is falling apart. She can't be self-indulgent, and for all that she's been trying not to be, the very fact that she can't right now makes it all the more tempting.

She's stepping out of a bar and walking the streets, vaguely in the directions of Kaneki's cafe, because maybe coffee will help improve her mood, as she rubs her face. And then... and then some dickhead steps in her way, and Sarissa's hand falls from her face, expression dark and moody.

A mime. A fucking mime, and her temper is about ready to blow a gasket, because she's had some bourbon and everything is shit and she still misses stupid Georgia and now there's a fuckhead of a mime in front of her. )

Piss off, ( she bites out, and involuntarily, tiny lightning crackles at her fingertips. Remember your trial period at work, Sarissa. Try to remember that. )

[ghoulking]

[ who gets in fights with a mime? Sarissa, that's who.

Kaneki is heading towards his coffee shop like the good owner of a coffee shop that he is, and that's when he spots a mime being harassed...? Or is it the other way around? Regardless, he'd rather ignore that whole deal because it has got nothing to do with him, right? Right.

And that's when he realizes it's Sarissa and that means now it has at least a bit to do with him. He decides to approach, gently patting Sarissa's shoulder while he speaks to the mime ]

I don't think he did it on purpose. Sorry - she doesn't like clowns much.

[magnitudes]

( THEY DESERVE IT. ALL OF THEM. SILENT JUDGMENTAL FUCKERS.

The tap on her shoulder interrupts the escalation just enough - it's a surprise, unexpected, and she dramatically (but not violently) swerve-turns from the tap so she can see Kaneki. It's not a jerked, angry sort of thing, more just that same dramatic, weirdly fluid movement she always seems to have, so she sways back and then steps forward again.

Visible inhale, shoulders rising, and the a huff of air. )

Mimes are wankers, ( she says abruptly, but without heat, and then turns to the mime, ) And haven't you ever read a Stephen King book? Don't get in people's fucking faces with that shit, Jesus Christ.

COSIMA

[magnitudes]

( Sarissa has a wicker basket in her hand that she holds out to Cosima, before thinking better of it and hanging Cosima the wine, instead.

The basket has a few goodies for them, and also a few goodies for the piglets - fresh fruit and veggies chopped up. Admittedly the supplies for the pigs are a lot healthier than the ones for them, but whatever. )

Don't forget, we gotta save some of the carrots for Rosalind, they're her favourite. Dunno if I could live with the look she'd give me if I let Dorothy and Sid get all of them, again.

( That had been a bad day, probably involving a guilty text-babble at Cosima about being a bad parent. Sarissa shudders at the very thought, as she climbs over the fence with practiced ease, one handed, and swings her leg over to land on the other side. Her boots squelch in the mud - though much of the paddock is grass, around the fence and gate has a tendency to be in a state of dry earth or muddy mess, depending on the weather. Right now its halfway through drying out again, so the mud is no longer in danger of sucking the boots off their feet. )

[doubleblind]

[Cosima scales the fence with a lot less grace and ease, her heeled boots less suited for a day on the farm than Sarissa's, her overly long scarf nearly getting snagged in the wooden fence. But it's okay. She's gotten better at it. Frequent visits to hang out with her piglet nieces have helped her adapt to Sarissa's idea of "nature".]

Hey, don't feel too bad. Bet she didn't mind that much. Mother's are like, genetically programmed to want the best for their kids. At least, that's the whole idea of reproductive genetic fitness, your fitness is directly related to how many offspring you have... Well, as long as those offspring also survive and produce more offspring...

[magnitudes]

Hmm.

( A pensive sound, rather than a "sure weirdo, whatever" sound. )

So she'd appreciate me bringing home the bacon for all this bacon?

( :D???

Sarissa looks at the barn, and up the sky - blue and bright, though there's a bit of a breeze chasing fluffy clouds across her line of vision. )

Wanna chill out in the barn, or should I drag a coupla bales out here?

SARAH

[magnitudes]

( She's steering Sarah across the lawn, towards the gravel driveway that leads down to the shed. "Steering" because Sarah's blindfolded, and Sarissa is very very carefully leading her, the ground crunching underfoot as they make their way. )

Not long now, okay?

( Its mid morning, blue skies and just a slight breeze that makes the tree branches dance. )

[coppelganger]

[ Right now Sarah's only thought is please not another farm animal, because she knows Sarissa and she knows that's a definite possibility. Actually, please not another farm animal or some kind of giant obstacle course seems like a better wish, so she switches to that one. ]

Riss, this is dumb. [ Blindfolds are dumb. She feels dumb. Everything is dumb! ]

[magnitudes]

It's not, it's not, I promise.

( Sarissa gives Sarah's hand a reassuring squeeze, and she brings her to a stop in front of the shed. Well, shed-garage-thing, but it's only been home to a car for a few hours, so Sarah doesn't know it's a garage yet. The lean-to had been good enough for the shitty car that's been there for the slog into Nonah. )

Just stand here for a second, okay? ( And she's just bounding over to the garage doors, hauling them open with the creak of wood and protest of hinges, and clipping the doors back, to reveal... ~~~the surprise~~~.

The surprise is a black mustang convertible, done up extremely fancy, with a definite bit of punk flair in the details. The gear stick is topped by a metal skull, instead of the regular top, the seats are deep red leather. ) Okay. Okay, you can take off the blindfold.

( NO SHE'S NOT NERVOUS this has only been a thing she has been working on for months. And by "she" I mean "Jaime was working on it and Chilton was harassed with questions about what looks were classic and Sarissa fretted that it would be destroyed in some dramatic city-wide event before it could be completed."

You know, but she's not nervous. )