and then she'd say, 'it's okay, i got lost on the way, but i'm a supergirl and supergirls don't cry'

[lucked]

Up until now, everything's been easy. As strange as it might be for most people to imagine, Claire Bennet's leap off the Compound has been the best thing that's happened to her yet on Tabula Rasa. Maybe it isn't the healthiest- after all, where the leap from the Compound was supposed to help her shed that mask, come face to face with all that fate'

Comments

[floozyfacade]

It's not like she's never been in a hospital. The Penderghast children have had their share of breaks and sprains, of childhood complaints, and Olive's as guilty as Kale of getting into scrapes, though she's escaped the stitches he's brought on himself on more than one occasion. All of that, though, is nothing to this, and when she enters the clinic, it's with an unusual degree of trepidation. Claire's hurt, badly hurt, and though she doesn't look as upset or worn down as Olive might have expected, she's still bandaged and bruised, lying in that bed, and it's terrifying. They say the Compound isn't high enough that the fall could kill someone, but that isn't true. Height has a lot to do with it, but it's the impact that counts, and she's reasonably sure the right - the wrong - angle could have been the end of her friend.

Edging around the bed, she pulls the seat closer as she eases into it. "Claire, my God," she says, "what happened? Is there anything I can do or, or get for you or - ?" She shakes her head, abrupt, not sure what she'

[floozyfacade]

"It starts kind of... floating away," Olive says. "Everything that was normal." To a lesser extent, normalcy seemed to be drifting away for her before she even got here, too, but that would have blown over. Bad as it was, she knows, she would have put it to rights eventually and learned to cope with the fallout; it's not even close to the same as having an ability that puts her family in danger. She sighs and shakes her head, free hand tugging idly at the bedsheets. "The way I figure it, it has to end eventually, right? No one's actually stuck here forever. I mean, from what I've heard, there are, like, a few people who've been here from day one, but almost no one's actually been here that long, out of... hundreds of people, so odds are, we get to go home before another year is out. And that's... a long time, but if we enjoy what we've got and make the most of it and keep busy, it's gonna fly right by. And then we'll be home

[lucked]

"I... well, so I've been thinking about this on and off, obviously," Claire murmurs, her hands toying with her sheets again, gaze darting from place to place before they settle on her hands, the way that they can't seem to stop fussing or moving. "Most people seem pretty convinced that all of us will disappear in a few years. Some people say that you can't be sure, because there was a Day One and everything, so we could end up just living here until our time's up or whatever. Especially since people with abilities, with magic, all of that is suddenly gone, so obviously whatever brought us here is pretty powerful. But statistically- not that I'm any good with statistics, but this seems like a good 'eyeball it' kind of example- most people don't really stay here much longer than two, maybe three years

[floozyfacade]

It's strange, that the way Claire's managed to come up with a ballpark figure for their stay makes Olive love her a little more, but it's so much something she would have done eventually herself, if she hadn't first distracted herself with things like dinosaurs. Maybe that makes it a bit narcissistic, but a lot of love is, Olive sometimes thinks; or, at least, it's often a recognition of an overlap. There are things they have in common and she loves Claire for all of them and for the ways in which they're different, too. Two to three years is a terrifying number, in large part because it's so broad. She's never been one of those who wanted to know when she was going to die because she'd rather fling herself at everything and whatever happens, happens, but she thinks, sometimes, it might be easier to know just how long she has here (but what would she do differently if she did

[lucked]

In spite of the halting, the occasional stammer, there's so much surety in Olive's voice that Claire can't help but just stare in awe for a few seconds. She's not sure that she can see completely eye-to-eye with what Olive says, even though she knows that falling deep into everything, the friendships and relationships, is probably something that she can't avoid. As nice as it is in theory to keep a distance from people, to make sure that the pang of separation doesn't cut too deep, Claire can't help but find it nearly impossible to actually hold off. Not when superficiality doesn't seem to be nearly as much of an issue anymore, when there's no pressure on her end to be a cheerleader and climb up in some arbitrary social hierarchy

[floozyfacade]

"Well, maybe that's the difference," Olive says with a shrug. "I've never... really lost much of anything." She feels guilty for that sometimes, the extraordinary luck she's had just by virtue of being normal, and at others she hates it a little, because at least losing something means there was something to lose. She's not really sorry, though. The biggest thing to slip her grasp was her reputation and a handful of goldfish over the years (dogs, it's turned out, are more reliable companions). That she's mostly been on her own isn't something she can pity herself for when most of the few people she has kept at her side have each been better than a dozen or more shallow friends combined. Maybe when she loses someone, really loses them, she'll change her tune, but even then, she knows herself well enough to be sure even that would be superficial; she just doesn't have it in her to shut anyone out for long. "Plus I talk a lot. I mean, it's scary, of course it is. I'm scared, too. Just... being scared doesn't fix anything, so I may as