inbox | in the night.

[ultraviolents]

to be prettied up later!

Comments

TEXT | un: HK

[catholicisms]

( Matt has been both keeping tabs on Elektra and simultaneously avoiding her. he reasons the smartest thing he could possibly do is ignore her; she has been out of his life for years and it's probably better if his afterlife follows suit. he can't completely, though; she knows too much, and despite the fact he's still shamed by how much he'd needed her (half of why he's been avoiding her), Matt can't shake the memory of her hand wrapped around his like an anchor in the darkness.

(he can't forget waking from a disoriented stupor on a couch with her smirking at him, either.)

it's been a few days before he breaks the silence. he almost can't help himself; knowing she's there, it proves impossible to just ignore her. )

Interesting username.

un: badeaux

[ultraviolents]

[ she's been doing the same, even after he'd left her room in the inn, extremely petulant about having needed her help and muttering a begrudging 'thank you' as he'd left. she's aware that they have a lot to work though - there's a lot that he doesn't know or doesn't remember (she's still not sure how that works, even after a few days of researching), not the least of which is her taking the killing strike that had been meant for him and why, but she'd respected his need for space. mostly since she's needed some herself. ]

yours, too.

[ his gives who he is away more than hers, although truth be told she's not sure why she's making the attempt at secrecy. they're already dead. ]

i take it you're feeling better.

look at all those semicolons what was i on when i wrote that

[catholicisms]

( petulant is frankly a gentle word for it. Matt asks for help all the time, but never when he really needs it. truly needing someone was bad enough, that Elektra had been the one to see it is insult to literal injury. Matt had managed a thank you and he'd meant it, but after truly leaning on her that much he'd needed some time to recover.

and some time to try and figure out what it meant, though that he's honestly still lost on. Elektra had happily abandoned him in the past, why she'd cared enough to stay is just indicative of something he's unfortunately in the dark about. )

What can I say? I'm a city boy at heart.

( Matt doesn't want to make it obvious that he's hiding things, an alias would do that. it isn't a lie that he's obsessed with his part of New York City, it seemed a safe bet. )

I'm fine. ( aka he doesn't want to talk about it. ) We need to talk.

about as many exposition parentheses as i'm on on any given day

[ultraviolents]

[ it wasn't out of a desire to have him owe her for something, if that's what he's thinking. but he's not going to believe or understand that until they have this conversation. unfortunately, she's still not sure how to explain it all at once, and she knows he'll want to know everything. ]

yes. we do.

where have you been staying?

backdated ( prompting exploration ).

[hext]

[ wanda has been mulling this over for a while. she's more than hesitant (absolutely afraid) to venture back out into the forest again after what happened during the expedition — every night she sees eleven's face, pieces of eleven — but she's equally smothered and claustrophobic in town.

she doesn't trust will as much as you could fill a teaspoon, and robin... there's no telling.

the only people who don't seem to give her That Look about the whole thing are elektra and matt. elektra because of who she is; matt — well, his eyes aren't the most expressive behind those shades, but he doesn't flex his jaw in a probing way, either. they know how to fold things up, let her process, let her make the first move — while they deal with their own quandaries.

they both remind her of home.

so it's to elektra's door she comes with this idea, to finally get out. more or less.
she knocks three times, not too late at night. ]

do you want to go explor-innnnng~

[ultraviolents]

[ elektra hasn't harbored much desire to go back into the forest herself, but she finds herself restless with nothing to do and frustrated with no answers as to why they were lured there only to be deafened by one of its spirits. (who matthew had taken an apparent liking to afterwards, but that's neither here nor there.) she knows dwelling probably isn't healthy, but between this and whatever her standing with matthew is and how she still feels in spite of (and maybe because of) everything, the former is probably the safer thing to consume her thoughts.

she's thinking about it when wanda comes to her door, rapping at it three times, and she goes to answer without much delay. that it's wanda standing there when she answers is a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. ]

Hello, Wanda. [ she steps aside and opens the door a little wider, suspecting that whatever wanda wants to discuss isn't something meant for public ears, but doesn't move aside to invite her in just yet. ] What brings you here?

or ride our bikes around the towwwwnnnnn

[hext]

[ wanda meets her eyes, and though her gaze is steady, there's something haunted and cavernous about it. the circles under her eyes have gotten darker in her lantern light. ]

I keep thinking about resets. The woods. The town...

[ a beat. she glances past elektra, into the room behind her, how — aside from the darkness — normal it looks. the walls, the roof over her head. built, painted... rebuilt... repainted... ]

Elektra, how many towns do you think there have been?

i don't know the words well enough to continue :(

[ultraviolents]

[ if her room looks tidy in the way that suggests it's been unlived in, that's due to the fact that it more or less has been. she'd stuck to it and the inn in the first few days, after she and matthew had had their hearing damaged, but aside from that she's been avoiding spending much time in it. she'd been like that while living, too, no matter how luxurious the spaces she occupied were, tending to only spend time in those places when she needed the rest.

wanda's words have her considering, though. there was them and the people who had vanished, and then if what they'd been told when arriving was anything to go by, another few groups of people before them. why do the slates keep getting wiped clean? ]

I hadn't thought much about how many. What interests me more is what they might have done wrong.

[ the idea makes her angry, groups before them being brought here without their consent and wiped away if the group didn't perform the way they were supposed to, when they were given no indication of how to behave. it feels a little too familiar. ]

It's clear that you have, though. [ she steps aside then, wordlessly inviting wanda if she wants to come in. ]

[catholicisms]

( they've spent the past few days in isolation. Elektra's hallucinations have lessened since the first night, the bandana has been off for awhile and slowly the voices in both of their heads are starting to fade. despite the fact they might have been able to rough it alone after the first night, neither had any interest in enforcing the distance. it's not the first time they've taken shelter from the veritable storm of Beacon, though it's certainly different from the last time.

after touching the proof of her scars and having her fall asleep in his arms, there was little point in going back to detachment. touch seemed to help Elektra fight past the hallucinations, and Matt is happy to give her that tether if she needs it. besides, having her close is a comfort to him as much as it is to her. he's felt her coming back to him, piece by piece. even if he could go back and try it again, hide things better, stay more detached... he wouldn't.

sooner or later, though, the unspoken has to be said. the relative peace they've been living in will be broken, they can't just hole up in his cabin forever. and before Elektra leaves him he wants to know.

now seems like a good a time as any. they're not in bed, for once — they're on his dated and dusty couch, Elektra's head in his lap. he's listening to updates on the tablet, the volume quiet enough she probably doesn't even hear it. he'll update her occasionally on something interesting, but really there's not a lot to report. she's quiet and surprisingly complacent to just lay against him, though she seems calm and centered. like her attention is in the moment, with him, not off in her memories or on something in her head. once the last message reels off he turns off the tablet, putting it aside and brushing some hair behind her ear. he's silent for a moment, fingers just lingering behind her ear, before he finally says it. )

Were you ever going to tell me you still love me? ( she's told him everything, extensively. she's detailed a long stretch of memories he never got to live. yet, somehow, that little fact stayed silent, even if she telegraphs it in the way she treats him and the stutter of her heartbeat when he's close. he could be wrong, he's tried to convince himself of that for months. but he doesn't think he is. )

[ultraviolents]

[ she'd been reluctant to remove the blindfold, not wanting to feel the pain of her death or see the blood or the hands groping for her again. she'd only agreed to it with his reassurances, by his touch and the tone of his voice grounding her, keeping the horrors at bay. it's now been a couple of days and maybe she could have gone home. maybe she should have. but he hasn't asked her to and she hasn't wanted to.

right now there's silence, both in her head and in his, and all she can see is his space. he hovers above her, listening to the messages on the network, occasionally giving her updates on what's been going on outside of the little world they've built for themselves. her eyes slide close even though she's not tired, just enjoying the relative peace of the moment. and then he asks her his question.

she doesn't respond at first, except to open her eyes and curl her fingers into the fabric of his sweatpants. this is a conversation she hadn't expected to have, that she hadn't wanted to have. she'd convinced herself that she'd be fine if things remained the way they've been, realized that when he'd last seen her alive, he'd thought she'd left him because he'd disappointed her, how much that had hurt him. she hadn't expected things to go further. it doesn't mean she hadn't wanted things to go further, but she wasn't going to be the one to bring it up. and she'd figured that the fact that he hadn't meant that he wasn't going to.

she straightens eventually, looking at him head on, waiting for him to look at her even if he can't see her. this isn't something she wants to do when she can't see his reaction. ]

Were you ever going to tell me you knew?

[ she knows he's able to hear her reactions. she's had some involuntary ones over the past few months that she's sure he's been able to discern the meaning of if he really thought about them. that he hadn't brought it up meant that he had been ignoring them, or so she'd thought. ]

[catholicisms]

( she shifts away and he lets her. it’s shameful how instantly he misses the easy, thoughtless proximity. it’s ridiculous, how quickly he’s learned to crave her closeness. especially considering how badly things had fallen apart the last time he let her in. that memory is still in his mind, even now, but he’s long past pretending that he can avoid getting in deep with Elektra if he just proceeds with caution. pulling her into his arms, whispering pet names he hasn’t used in years (because they’re hers and he’s never used them on anyone else), the horrible clawing panic clamoring in his chest when she was deep in the throes of a hallucination — all of it just proved something he’d been foolish to not realize sooner.

that he loved her. maybe loved her still, despite everything. that he’d never managed to stop, even as he lived his life alone with grim certainty he’d never see her again. because she chose to leave and she chose to never come back.

he can tell she wants him to look at her, just from her posture. Matt obliges, even though he can’t really look her in the eye. there’s nothing to hide behind, no sunglasses that hide half his face, just a weary and slightly sad smile on his face. )

At first, I told myself I was wrong. The last time I thought you loved me, I was wrong. Why would it be different now? ( he was intentionally cautious, not wanting to fall into the same destructive freefall he had before. ) After... after that, I didn’t want to believe it, so I let myself pretend.

( she’s right, he has more or less ignored plenty of signs. she knows how well he can pick up on her reactions, even ones she doesn’t intend to make. all the more reason he’s curious. ) You knew I could hear it, sense it, but you never said anything.

[ultraviolents]

[ she'd left him back then because she'd thought he wanted her gone. she'd stayed away because stick had kept insisting she go back, try again, and that had been one mission she hadn't wanted to succeed in. and even after he'd sent her again, even when he'd made his boundaries clear to her, she'd respected them, because she hadn't wanted to push him into anything he didn't really feel. and it wasn't until that night on the roof, when he'd suggested he run with her wherever she went, that she'd thought he might feel it again, in spite of all he'd learned and all he already knew.

he doesn't remember any of that. she'd told him everything, but that's not the same thing as experiencing it and knowing it. so she had been trying not to expect anything, trying to quell her initial instincts to push it, just glad for the fact that he was willing to have her in her life after how he'd remembered her leaving it. she looks down as he talks, her hands twisted in her lap, and when she looks back up her eyes are full, her voice small and raw. ]

You weren't wrong the last time. [ that part is spoken softly, and she swallows before talking again, willing out the breaking. ] And I didn't think it was fair to hold you to something you couldn't remember.

TEXT, @HK (sorry for this disaster all over her inbox lmao)

[catholicisms]

Hey.

You seen a kid around lately? Teenaged, long hair... shorter than me. Goes by Grizz.

( he has to ask this, because he wants to be wrong. that even though Matt himself hasn't been able to pin him down, that he's getting worried over nothing. )

please, i welcome it | @badeaux

[ultraviolents]

hey.

no, i haven't. why? what's wrong?

i miss being able to use improper capitalization

[catholicisms]

Usually he's at the Invincible around the same time every night. He hasn't been there in almost a week, and I haven't managed to find him in town. He's not answering any messages.

( which means Matt might keep missing him, or that he's not feeling well, or something worse. at this point, Matt feels it's firmly in the something worse category. )

it's honestly harder to remember to use it than not at this point

[ultraviolents]

[ elektra doesn't know the kid, but the way matthew is talking doesn't signify anything good. it feels cruel to say so, though, especially when it's entirely possible that he's just exploring in the woods. ]

what are you thinking?

"Delivered" sometime after the ferry arrival.

[catholicisms]

( even though "delivered" is a strong word for "left stuff around their house for Elektra to find."

it's all just subtly there now. a very expensive bottle of tequila in the kitchen. some orchid perfume just magically found its way in behind the mirror in the hideously salmon colored bathroom.

and a pair of twin sai nicely nestled in the drawer she's claimed as her "what i'd wear if i need to fuck somebody up" drawer.

it's not for christmas, exactly, but also, merry christmas, babe. )

post-memories (and still suffering effects of lanterns, tbhhhh)

[hext]

[ it's raining, but wanda barely notices the water soaking into her skin, clinging to her hair — she knocks on elektra's door, trying to keep her focus on what's solid in front of her. ]

something traumatic happened to me that changed my (after) life check~

[ultraviolents]

[ wanda arrives when matthew is out, and elektra is both surprised to see her and not. she comes to the door in leggings, a loose sweater (likely pilfered from matthew) and bare feet, silent when she comes to the door and when she steps aside to let wanda in. ]

[hext]

[ she meets elektra's eyes when the door opens, but the contact quickly breaks. the gratitude is in the momentary flicker of her fingers against elektra's wrist, covered in that borrowed sweater, as she passes by into the dwelling. it's as much in thanks as it is for grounding herself in the moment, in space and time.

she's seen too much, and she doesn't feel contained within her skin. ]

May I?

[ but she's already sitting on the couch before asking permission. ]

[ultraviolents]

[ her eyes flick to wanda's hand on her wrist, an eyebrow slightly raised at the brief but intimate gesture. they go back to her face once it's broken and remain on her form as it heads towards the couch, settling into a seated position before elektra can voice her permission. ]

Sure, since you've already done it. [ but her tone isn't unkind. ] What did you see?

backdated to the second day after helix return

[countershocks]

[ soon after law had finally waken up in the submarine, got himself out of the seat he'd been strapped to, and come to the conclusion he was no longer in immediate danger of dying...

well, to be fair, the first thing he had done was go back to the inn and see cora-san.

the second was to keep the promise he'd made back there in helix.

it's nearly night (for as much as that means nothing here in perpetual darkness) when he makes it to the church — he'd been told that was where resurrected people woke up in, and he remembers still, the dead man, and the way the woman he'd helped had stuck to his side.

when he gets closer, it's easy enough to sense her presence there, too, so he pushes open the door (not teleporting inside, he'd seen how she fought, not keen to surprise her like that) and calls out, deadpan, ]

The doctor will see you now.

[ look he has plenty sympathy for elektra waiting for matt to be resurrected and he may even express that eventually... for now, though, there's just him being a gremlin. ]

[ultraviolents]

[ he's not likely to be pleased to see how she's been taking care of herself.

the cuts have been tended to and the bandages changed as often as she remembers to do so (which is actually fairly regularly, she needs something to do while waiting), but she's been in the church since working on restoring matthew's lantern. her only stops since then had been to retrieve the adopted tree spirit (who is currently napping beside her on the pew) and to the invincible to retrieve a few supplies. she's barely slept and is still fighting off the nausea and wooziness from the decompression sickness, so she hasn't done much eating, either.

her attention's drawn immediately to the door, even before he announces himself, just weary enough to still be wary of any sudden movement or noise (so yes, good call on not teleporting in). she straightens, giving treeby a quick once-over before going to meet him at the church's entrance. ]

You're looking considerably less bloody. [ ...this is elektra for 'thanks for checking in'. ]

[countershocks]

I could say the same to you.

[ though he'd hardly go as far as to say she's looking "alright"... "passable" seems more accurate. he eyes her arm critically, then shifting his gaze to fall on her, as if to say, you could have done a better job.

but then, he also knows very well how easy it is to feel indifferent about something like that. ]

How is it? [ her wrist, that is. ]

[ultraviolents]

[ there's a mild shrug of her right shoulder, as if to say 'yeah, i know'. she's not laboring under any delusions that she's done a great job at taking care of herself, but sleeping on a church pew for another day or so isn't going to kill her. ]

About as well as can be expected. [ considering it's broken and all. ] It aches. And I don't feel great overall, which I thought would wear off once we got back to the surface.

[ her stomach roils for a second and she grimaces, swallowing against it. ]