→ 003 | action | OTA

[cactusy]

WHO: Sameen Shaw and OPEN
WHERE: Around Temba
WHAT: Memoriiiiiiiiiies
WHEN: Throughout the energy storm
WARNINGS: Imagery of death, gunshots

Shaw is incredibly prone to stir-craziness and quite sensitive to feeling like she's spinning her wheels, so hunkering down for the duration of the storms was never going to be an option for her - especially not when they're intermittent, random, unpredictable. What is she supposed to do, just stay inside for days or even weeks on end? No thanks.

But this is her first energy storm, and even as a big believer in forewarned being forearmed, it's still a lot. The first time she sees a vision of someone from home, she does a double-take, and nearly calls out to them. She wants to call out to them, desperately, but the reminder that this might not really be them is a powerful one, and it holds her back - but just barely, and only to a point.

A: the time a teammate sacrificed himself for Shaw

The man she's trailing stops suddenly, and bends over a table with an open laptop that's materialized right there on the street. The imagery of it pings something deep in her hindbrain, and she quickens her pace.

"Cole--"

"Shaw!" he shouts, urgent and frightened, as he leaps for her and tackles her to the ground amid a hail of invisible gunfire that comes from nowhere.

B: the time Shaw sacrificed herself for her teammates

The group of four rushes down the hallway together, two of the men carrying the third in between them, propelling him along as best they can despite the fact that he's badly injured and dead weight. Without the rest of the setting around them, the freight elevator they're headed for looks like a freestanding box in the middle of the street - a metal cage that they're about to trap themselves in.

"Will they get out?" she asks urgently, talking to herself as much as whoever is standing nearby. "I don't know if they can get out without me. I need to help them again, right?"

Comments

[cactusy]

"No. The people shooting wanted a captive, so they patched me up," she says as she walks, her brow furrowing slightly. "They had me for... almost a year, apparently. I escaped a couple months before I got here."

[playingtough]

"A year? Holy shit. And I thought a week or something was bad." But at least Real Shaw makes it out alive. "Glad you made it out. Lots of people that end up here don't when they go back. But you did look like you were going to die back in that memory. You really do like that chick from your memory though, don't you? My joke in trying to learn updated slang aside anyways."

[cactusy]

When Shaw's mother had died, she'd been in med school, which meant that by the time the ISA had scooped her up and she'd ended up partnered with Cole, she hadn't had any close family left to talk about. Then by the time she'd joined up with Finch's little team of misfits, Cole had been dead, and there hadn't been any reason to talk about him, either. And now, that whole team is gone too, and so she hasn't talked about them here on Agra 10 beyond the basics. It's a pattern that she finds both sensible and reassuring: she'll think about the people from her past who she's lost, but the past is where they get to stay, untainted by whatever bullshit the present is throwing at her.

None of those past situations had thrown living, interactive memories into the mix, though.

"Her name was Root," Shaw says, swallowing. She doesn't break her stride, nor does her tone change. "She died."

[playingtough]

Billy watches her, trying to gauge if he should be on the defensive for asking that or not. People in his world would certainly have gone on the offense, or the popular kids would've. Billy would've. But that's what you do when you have secrets to keep so you stay safe. He keeps up with her easily.

There's not even a misstep as she speaks the truth and that Root dies in her world. "I'm sorry," which sounds sincere.

"There's a lot people here like that, from my world at least. You met Max Mayfield yet? Shitty little teenager with redhair and a skateboard? Not like you and Root, but she loses someone back home too."

[cactusy]

"I don't get the point of talking about it."

There's no offense in her voice as she says this; it's stated matter-of-factly.

"I guess it helps some people. Doesn't change anything, though, right?"

[playingtough]

"Of course it doesn't. Didn't know anything about you dealing with that shit. Nevermind." Her matter-of-factly tone feels like a splinter under his skin and it just makes him want to punch her. Shame that's his first instinct, but he holds it back and just curls his hands into hard fists instead. Shoves them into his pants' pockets.

"If you're good here, I shouldn't linger in case the storm wants to take a peek at my memories and then no one's gonna be having fun."

[cactusy]

She hears the tension in his voice, and it gets him to glance over her shoulder at him, noting the way his fist clench. His anger is unmistakable. The reasons behind it aren't, so much, but she can still make a good guess.

How do I not piss off everyone I'm supposed to be working with? she imagines asking John. I wasn't even trying to this time.

He's trying to reach out to you, is what she knows he'd say back. Throw the guy a little more of a bone. He just wants some acknowledgement.

Or something to that effect, anyway. John always was a not-so-secret sap.

"I'm good," she says, and then pauses. "And, uh-- thanks. And sorry about your friend's friend-- about your friend, if you knew them, too. I'm not good at this kind of thing, but it really does suck to lose people."

[playingtough]

If it had been the version of Billy from last year, when he had first been brought to the city, no doubt he would've swung on her. Billy didn't really care if it was a girl or a guy when it came to throwing a punch.

He is about to turn on heel and head somewhere - anywhere, really, just as long as it was away - at her acknowledgement, but then she pipes up about being sorry for Max's friend. "Don't be sorry for him. It's a waste, really. He wasn't a great guy but I'm worried about Max sometimes. How hard she takes it."

[cactusy]

"On paper I'd be a good person to talk to her about it," Shaw says, and though the tinge of regret in her voice is easy to miss, it is there. "But I suck at this stuff."

She knows now, though. And she'll keep it in mind.