Iman Asadi (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
etherthief) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
bigapplesauce2015-05-07 09:42 pm
etherthief) wrote in bigapplesauce2015-05-07 09:42 pm
Don't Believe Me Just Watch
"All right kids, here's what it is," says Iman cheerfully. She's punchy today. Spent the last couple days helping Greta move into the formerly-ROMAC apartments, now just apartments - under whose maintenance, well, that's still a bit of a jumble but Greta has a home now, a good safe distance from the former Base, and moreover, it's a beautiful day for some science. She flexes her left hand and gestures demonstratively at the park's edge, the river beyond it, and more to the point, the Rift's border. Not that anyone she knows of has tried escaping Manhattan via the East River, but Satan's notes definitely helped her construct a solid map of its perimeter, and now that she's so close she can almost feel the crackle of energy, tingling a little in her fingers. Exciting stuff.
It's dawn, almost no one's out yet, and at least one of her companions doesn't look too pleased with the choice of hour, but he never looks pleased, so it's moot.
"This is the Rift's edge," she says with a mostly mocking long-buried academic air. "Runs all around the waterfront keeping us boxed in. The rumors tell us that its recent, what do we want to call it, tantrum was immediately preceded by two rifties breaching the border, if not physically, then some other way. We don't know how they did it but we know it can be done." She gives Greta a little smile. They know now that the escapees were Andrew Noble, his husband, and their children, the very same Greta had been looking after - and she knows Andrew had been her first friend here. But the escape has left them with something very important: a proverbial jumping-off point.
"What I'm gonna do is feel it out with this baby." She gives them a little wave with her left hand. "This is what I do back home, and this is possibly the first and last time I'll ever be presented with so clearly delineated a membrane. So if I can't breach it, I can at the very least interact with it, study it, get some idea how far it might bend under the right circumstances. And that's what I'm gonna do."
Well, she's excited anyway. Rush knows he's more or less here to spot her in case something goes horribly wrong, an eventuality she's assured him won't happen, she'll be careful, she promises. Greta, she invited for a little clean fun showing off, and because, well, she wants Greta to know if there's hope of getting home. Much as that eventuality pains her to think about.
Anyway. She cracks her knuckles unnecessarily and gives them a big grin.
"Ready?"
It's dawn, almost no one's out yet, and at least one of her companions doesn't look too pleased with the choice of hour, but he never looks pleased, so it's moot.
"This is the Rift's edge," she says with a mostly mocking long-buried academic air. "Runs all around the waterfront keeping us boxed in. The rumors tell us that its recent, what do we want to call it, tantrum was immediately preceded by two rifties breaching the border, if not physically, then some other way. We don't know how they did it but we know it can be done." She gives Greta a little smile. They know now that the escapees were Andrew Noble, his husband, and their children, the very same Greta had been looking after - and she knows Andrew had been her first friend here. But the escape has left them with something very important: a proverbial jumping-off point.
"What I'm gonna do is feel it out with this baby." She gives them a little wave with her left hand. "This is what I do back home, and this is possibly the first and last time I'll ever be presented with so clearly delineated a membrane. So if I can't breach it, I can at the very least interact with it, study it, get some idea how far it might bend under the right circumstances. And that's what I'm gonna do."
Well, she's excited anyway. Rush knows he's more or less here to spot her in case something goes horribly wrong, an eventuality she's assured him won't happen, she'll be careful, she promises. Greta, she invited for a little clean fun showing off, and because, well, she wants Greta to know if there's hope of getting home. Much as that eventuality pains her to think about.
Anyway. She cracks her knuckles unnecessarily and gives them a big grin.
"Ready?"
no subject
So she doesn't, by sheer force of will. And she manages to balance herself on the portion of mattress Iman's left for her, curling toward her friend to make certain she's not going to fall to the floor. It's not the most comfortable position in the world, but she can manage until Iman drifts off. It won't be long, from the looks of things. And yes, they're a bit close, but if Iman minded, she could easily move back.
She doesn't. Her eyes are shut, and her breathing is slowing. She probably hasn't even noticed. Greta studies Iman's face for a few moments from this unusually good vantage point. She's paler than usual, and a little drawn, but that's better than how unnervingly slack her expression was the last time she was laid out on this bed. It's not a pleasant memory, and Greta's brow furrows. Then she lifts her hand - the one Iman hasn't already imprisoned - and gently brushes back her friend's hair, tucking it behind her ear. Iman stirs, and Greta snatches her hand back with a twinge of guilt... but her friend doesn't wake, and Greta thinks she looks a little less drawn than she had a moment ago. And if her grip on Greta's hand is weakening, it's by slow degrees, not sudden and awful like before. She's all right, just drifting off.
And she's going to be fine.
They'll make sure of it.