Mako Mori (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
driftseeker) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
bigapplesauce2015-08-12 09:30 pm
driftseeker) wrote in bigapplesauce2015-08-12 09:30 pm
Entry tags:
missing exits, missing people, recognizing geometric shapes [open to multiple]
Echoes of Raleigh, listen to me sing a horrifying chorus as her brother is ripped from the Conn-Pod, torn away with his life skewered on teeth larger than anything, his mind a shrieking turmoil of fear and agony and despair -
Mako wakes with a sharp intake of breath.
She doesn't have a brother.
She sits up in the bed in the apartment Gabe was kind enough to offer her, green like he said it would be to match the curtains framing the window, where the watery predawn light filters in to fall in puddled disarray over the rumpled sheets.
She braces hands to her temples.
She doesn't have a brother. She doesn't have a brother.
Mako jerks the covers back and pads to the kitchen, rattling around in a frantic attempt to fall into some morning routine. It is not until the loud groan of the coffeemaker pierces her ears that she realizes she does not start the morning with coffee. She starts with tea, Darjeeling black, and Raleigh would drum his fingers against the countertop impatiently, absently, as he waited for the grind of the beans to halt and the rhythmic drip of the machine to begin.
Coffeemaker abandoned, Mako flees into the outside world with its rush of cars and dizzying lights. She does not have much by the way of clothing, just essentials, simple and utilitarian.
She reads the name of the place at which she finds herself. Wilmot's.
She needs a drink.
No she doesn't. Raleigh needs one.
Mako has to sit down and order, and then she puts her head in her hands.
Mako wakes with a sharp intake of breath.
She doesn't have a brother.
She sits up in the bed in the apartment Gabe was kind enough to offer her, green like he said it would be to match the curtains framing the window, where the watery predawn light filters in to fall in puddled disarray over the rumpled sheets.
She braces hands to her temples.
She doesn't have a brother. She doesn't have a brother.
Mako jerks the covers back and pads to the kitchen, rattling around in a frantic attempt to fall into some morning routine. It is not until the loud groan of the coffeemaker pierces her ears that she realizes she does not start the morning with coffee. She starts with tea, Darjeeling black, and Raleigh would drum his fingers against the countertop impatiently, absently, as he waited for the grind of the beans to halt and the rhythmic drip of the machine to begin.
Coffeemaker abandoned, Mako flees into the outside world with its rush of cars and dizzying lights. She does not have much by the way of clothing, just essentials, simple and utilitarian.
She reads the name of the place at which she finds herself. Wilmot's.
She needs a drink.
No she doesn't. Raleigh needs one.
Mako has to sit down and order, and then she puts her head in her hands.
no subject
"A war," she says softly. "It ended just before I arrived here."
She ended it. She and Raleigh and Hermann and Newt and Chuck and Pentecost, at a cost she was prepared to devote an unhealthy amount of mental energy convincing herself it was worth it, except that she never got that chance.
She had not wanted to lose Raleigh too, she had told him. She had not wanted to lose anyone.
She sobers slightly, figuratively, and removes herself further from the literal concept as her second drink arrives and she sips it.
"It will not happen here," she says, though it sounds more an assurance to herself than to him. "It would have happened already."