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PsyKick was falling through the night sky, the black expanse studded with stars shining like diamonds within vast and glowing nebulae.
This did not especially worry him.
He simply enjoyed the stunning view, reaching out to brush his imaginary fingers through ethereal star dust. It was surprisingly warm, as if he’d tipped his hand into a pleasantly hot bath.
Fascinating.
And not what he’d expected from the mindscape of an assassin.
Despite the long fall, he landed softly, barely bending his knee at the impact, as if he’d just stepped off no more than a raised sidewalk. His feet sank into the soft earth, not even visible beneath the white glowing mist drifting above the ground.
PsyKick slowly raised his head, gazing around with interest.
Caroline’s mind bore little resemblance to his, but that was to be expected. Hers was the mind of someone without mental powers, wild and untamed. Small islands of light stretched out before him, each holding part of her personality and associated memories. There were no walls, only an endless expanse of black that likely looped back in on itself. He knew that he could take a step forward and end up somewhere far behind. Traveling through this landscape would follow all the logic of a dream, which was to say, none at all.
It was also one of the more beautiful minds he’d seen.
The minds of professional killers were usually cold and desolate wastes.
The light shining all around him was pleasantly warm.
He wasn’t sure what to make of it.
PsyKick wondered if he should tell Kara about this. It might ease some of the devastation he’d seen on her face. Then again, he wasn’t sure just how comforting she’d find the opinion that her sister’s mind was pretty.
Perhaps if he could bring back more substantial observations…
Generally, PsyKick respected privacy. Sometimes his powers made him perceive more than he truly wished to, but he simply pretended he’d never seen it, nor did he pry further. The only minds he’d ever deliberately spied on had been villains.
Caroline fit the bill, but he still wasn’t sure if it would be the right thing to do.
He had come here to talk to her, nothing more. Clear up her misconceptions, and then hopefully talk her into using his powers to switch bodies once more.
PsyKick took a step forward, gazing around. He was in a ghostly temple, of sorts, the transparent spires rising high above. The architecture appeared to be ancient Persian. An Order headquarters? Although their influence was global and their strongest presence was actually in East Asia, they had originated in the Middle East, many centuries ago.
He wondered if its real world counterpart was truly this gigantic, or if she simply remembered it as this ominously looming.
PsyKick slowly made his way up the stairs; it stretched and lengthened, making the ascent seemingly neverending, but he just kept putting one foot in front of the other, reminding himself that any exhaustion he thought he felt was just a figment of his imagination.
Finally, he arrived at the grand entrance, the heavy gates creaking open as he approached them. He stepped over the threshold and found himself in a small room, the ghostly glow of the exterior giving way to the solid walls of a dungeon, signaling this to be a very vivid memory. Every detail of the cell stood in sharp relief, and none more so than the man chained to the wall. He looked old, his every breath wheezing.
Caroline lay on the floor, curled up in a ball. Around her neck was a collar, one PsyKick recognized as a crude power suppressor; an old, bulky model from when the tech had still been in its infancy, quite different from the sleek, thin bracelet he had worn.
Her skeletal hand slowly, very slowly inched toward a dagger lying not far from her.
A man’s disembodied voice echoed through the room.
“Pick up the knife, and you can eat.” Her fingers closed around the handle. She slowly raised her head to gaze at the chained man. Her icy eyes burned with hatred.
A gunshot rang out, and PsyKick whirled around, only to realize it was another memory, another time, casting its shadow over this one. An unseen man roared, only to be silenced by a second gunshot.
He could hear Caroline getting up behind him, slowly and painstakingly, but he did not turn to watch. Instead, he walked toward the cell door, even as he heard her stumble and choke, and pushed it open, shading his eyes against the blinding light on the other side.
The door slammed shut behind him and he turned to blink at it, slightly dazed.
The dungeon door stood alone, connecting to nothing, at the very edge of one of the floating islands he’d seen. When his gaze strayed beyond, he could see the temple in the distance, hovering somewhere far beneath.
Tiny threads of light were fanning from the edges of the door and it took him a moment to recognize them for what they were.
Fractures.
Scars in the very fabric of her being.
Not the deep canyons of his own mindscape, but broken nonetheless.
Kindred.
The thought came unbidden and he pushed it away, turning on his heels, and then hissed in a sharp breath at the sight before him.
No, not like me at all.
He’d arrived at the center of her mind, her core, around which all the other islands aligned. And unlike the withered husk that stood at the center of his mindscape, this one burned bright in a multitude of prismatic colors.
PsyKick had never found the words to describe to others what a mind looked like to him. It was shaped like a human, yet also not at all, its form flowing and changing and still so very recognizable as the person it belonged to. PsyKick knew exactly what Willpower looked like, but could not hope to actually draw a picture of it.
Caroline’s core was the very essence of Willpower, mixed with Longing – for what? he wondered – all entwined with Love and Hatred, held together with adamant Determination.
Perhaps she’d yielded, but this was not the spirit of someone broken.
Above all, PsyKick thought she was beautiful, his rapt gaze on the swirling light for a long time. His fingers itched to touch it, even though he knew that such contact would be far too intimate, and that was something to say for someone currently inhabiting her body.
That thought brought him back to the purpose of his visit. Whatever he might have seen in passing, he was not here to spy. He thoughtfully gazed at the glowing isles studding the firmament.
He needed to find the conscious part of her and get its attention. Since she had his powers, theoretically she should sense his intrusion, but he doubted she understood the sensation she was feeling, let alone possessed the control to appear in her mindscape at will.
PsyKick would have to wait until she fell asleep as well, and hope she dreamt of the path he was on. Of course, there were ways in which he could increase the likelihood of running into her. He just had to choose a spot she was likely to think about.
In the distance, he saw a very familiar mansion hovering in the sky.
Where is the real Ian?
Bingo.
Now to figure out how to get there without his powers
***
Caroline paced the length of the abandoned warehouse with long strides, rubbing her temples. Just when she thought she had begun to figure out how to quiet the voices down, suddenly they’d become unbearable once more.
One voice kept surfacing, she was certain of it, but she couldn’t hear it over the others. Only once did the word beautiful ring loud and clear in her mind before it faded to a low murmur.
She slumped against the stained wall, exhausted.
Caroline didn’t even have an apartment in the city. She’d just counted on being able to teleport to one of the nice cozy cabins she kept sprinkled all over the world. To rent a hotel room was to leave a hint to her presence. Radiance never left a trail to follow. That, after all, was what made teleporters so desirable in her line of work – the ability to be untraceable, to skip borders and customs, to strike anywhere in the world while her headquarters were elsewhere.
But now she was trapped.
Even if she had somewhere to go, she couldn’t actually step foot outside. She’d tried and as soon as she got near the more populated areas, she’d all but passed out at the overwhelming mental feedback.
She drew her knees up to her chest, breathing calmly and evenly.
Radiance could go days without sleep if necessary, and would have refrained from it until she had more word on Ian, but… perhaps being rested would help her mental discipline. She was completely useless like this.
Her eyelids drooped and her head slumped. Sleep came to her within minutes.
***
The little boy pressed himself against the tree trunk, narrowing his eyes at his target. Then he darted to the next tree, hiding behind that one. Or trying, to, anyway. Using flailing somersaults and rolls into low crouches as a primary mode of transportation was really not all that stealthy.
Nonetheless, the young teenage girl did not appear to notice him – not until he tackled her from behind. Then she suddenly whipped around and caught him, prompting a child’s high-pitched shriek of protest.
“You fool!” she crowed. “You have walked right into my trap, oh mighty Captain Patriot! Now face the wrath… of my hug!”
“Ah! Curse you, villain!” the black-haired boy yelled, and failed to wiggle out of her tight embrace.
The future assassin laughed, and the boy who would become one of the most brutal vigilantes Paragon had ever known giggled in response.
“Three out of five?” Ian offered.
“You’ll never defeat me,” Caroline said smugly.
And PsyKick watched the two children fade away, only for the two of them – older, now – to run past him.
The mansion and the surrounding estate were filled with echoes of the two of them. PsyKick had yet to see their parents.
Their forms were slightly blurred and shiny; he was watching the memories dulled yet enhanced by the filter of nostalgia. PsyKick wondered if Shade had truly been that happy a child or if that, too, was just Caroline’s perception; watching the shy boy he had known mostly as a violently unstable hero was beyond surreal.
Getting here had taken some twists and turns in Caroline’s labyrinthine mind, stumbling upon more memories – some quite disturbing – but he’d finally found the way and was now whiling away the time.
The love that permeated this part of her mind was palpable.
And he’d reached the conclusion that whatever Caroline was, she was not evil.
But not good either.
A breeze rustled the estate’s trees – only to turn into a gale, ripping away the leaves until they were left skeletal and barren. The three sets of siblings that had still been playing in one form or another dissolved into nothingness.
PsyKick raised his head.
She was here.
The assassin stood not far from him, white hood drawn over her face. Unlike his mental projection, hers was not fully corporeal, flickering like the image of an old TV.
“You.”
He saw her lips move, yet that was not where her voice was coming from. It reverberated all around him, the very ground shaking at the low rumble.
“You don’t belong here.”
“I don’t,” he agreed, watching her with apprehension. He was not sure how sentient her dream-self would be, but hoped she would be rational enough for a conversation.
The gale became stronger until he had to shield his eyes against it.
“Get out.”
“Don’t you want your body back, Caroline?” he yelled over the howling wind.
The landscape froze. PsyKick saw one of the leaves tossed around by the wind hanging suspended in the air.
Caroline cocked her head and even though he could not see her eyes, he was certain they were narrowed.
“Did you pluck my name from my mind, PsyKick?” she hissed.
“Ian told me.”
The ground shook with the force of her anger.
“Well, look who suddenly knows Ian Reynolds after all.” Her voice was laced with contempt. “What did you do to him?”
“Nothing!”
“Liar!”
The wind started howling once more, and PsyKick had to yell over it to make himself heard.
“Your brother is not in the danger you think he’s in!”
The ground to his feet cracked, rocky pillars breaking through and encasing him in a makeshift prison.
“Nobody has replaced him!”
The pillars only grew higher.
“For god’s sake, you have my powers, you can tell when I’m lying!”
That gave her pause.
The wind died down.
And then something vast and powerful crashed against his walls, her inquisitive probing performed with all the skill of… something that wasn’t very good at mindreading. He would think of a better analogy when his mind wasn’t being assaulted.
“Not so hard,” he gritted out, and then reluctantly lowered one of his walls to confirm the truth of his statements as he repeated them. “Ian Reynolds is alive and well. I’m not involved in some sinister plot to replace him, nor are any of the people you saw in the mansion.” He had seen that particular memory while making his way here, freshly burned into her mind.
Caroline said nothing for a long moment.
“Someone was masquerading as him with an illusion.” And for the first time, he heard doubt in the booming voice.
“With Ian’s full consent and knowledge.”
Another slam against his walls and he struggled to draw them back up.
“There’s something you’re not telling me,” she hissed. “I can feel it.”
“Yes. Yes, there is. That’s Ian’s secret to tell you, not mine.” Between teleportation apparently running in the family and a sudden gender swap, the obvious conclusion was not far away. Whatever kind of person Caroline was, she was still a member of the Order, and he was not about to blithely reveal Shade’s secret identity to an assassin, sister or not. Kara could decide for herself if she wanted to take that risk.
There was another lengthy pause.
“…and who are you to my brother, then?”
The answer came to his lips with surprising ease. Despite their less than pleasant history and her harsh words today, Shade had taken him in when he had nowhere else to go, and helped him when everyone else had already given up.
“A friend.”
***
Caroline wondered if this was even real. Everything was slightly blurred, with that nonsensical dreamy quality to it, yet he stood out in sharp relief, like a live action character in an animated world.
She really hoped it wasn’t.
Yet something told her this was very real.
Which meant…
“Did Ian see you?” she whispered, eyes wide. “In my body?”
He gave a slow nod, and for a moment she saw double, a swirl of color she thought was emotion. But she couldn’t tell what they corresponded to.
“Did you tell him what I did to you?”
“Yes.” His voice was almost gentle, which made no sense, because she had been ready to torture him, Ian’s friend, and now Ian knew what kind of person she’d become.
She wrapped her arms tightly around herself, and that, too, felt real, as if she was back in her body.
Caroline averted her gaze and stared at the starry sky above instead. It was darkening, one light going out after the other.
Of Heroes And Villains:
The Ties That Bind By Minikisa An assassin. A fallen hero. An unlikely meeting. The road to redemption is long and hard and filled with explosives. |
 |
PsyKick was falling through the night sky, the black expanse studded with stars shining like diamonds within vast and glowing nebulae.
This did not especially worry him.
He simply enjoyed the stunning view, reaching out to brush his imaginary fingers through ethereal star dust. It was surprisingly warm, as if he’d tipped his hand into a pleasantly hot bath.
Fascinating.
And not what he’d expected from the mindscape of an assassin.
Despite the long fall, he landed softly, barely bending his knee at the impact, as if he’d just stepped off no more than a raised sidewalk. His feet sank into the soft earth, not even visible beneath the white glowing mist drifting above the ground.
PsyKick slowly raised his head, gazing around with interest.
Caroline’s mind bore little resemblance to his, but that was to be expected. Hers was the mind of someone without mental powers, wild and untamed. Small islands of light stretched out before him, each holding part of her personality and associated memories. There were no walls, only an endless expanse of black that likely looped back in on itself. He knew that he could take a step forward and end up somewhere far behind. Traveling through this landscape would follow all the logic of a dream, which was to say, none at all.
It was also one of the more beautiful minds he’d seen.
The minds of professional killers were usually cold and desolate wastes.
The light shining all around him was pleasantly warm.
He wasn’t sure what to make of it.
PsyKick wondered if he should tell Kara about this. It might ease some of the devastation he’d seen on her face. Then again, he wasn’t sure just how comforting she’d find the opinion that her sister’s mind was pretty.
Perhaps if he could bring back more substantial observations…
Generally, PsyKick respected privacy. Sometimes his powers made him perceive more than he truly wished to, but he simply pretended he’d never seen it, nor did he pry further. The only minds he’d ever deliberately spied on had been villains.
Caroline fit the bill, but he still wasn’t sure if it would be the right thing to do.
He had come here to talk to her, nothing more. Clear up her misconceptions, and then hopefully talk her into using his powers to switch bodies once more.
PsyKick took a step forward, gazing around. He was in a ghostly temple, of sorts, the transparent spires rising high above. The architecture appeared to be ancient Persian. An Order headquarters? Although their influence was global and their strongest presence was actually in East Asia, they had originated in the Middle East, many centuries ago.
He wondered if its real world counterpart was truly this gigantic, or if she simply remembered it as this ominously looming.
PsyKick slowly made his way up the stairs; it stretched and lengthened, making the ascent seemingly neverending, but he just kept putting one foot in front of the other, reminding himself that any exhaustion he thought he felt was just a figment of his imagination.
Finally, he arrived at the grand entrance, the heavy gates creaking open as he approached them. He stepped over the threshold and found himself in a small room, the ghostly glow of the exterior giving way to the solid walls of a dungeon, signaling this to be a very vivid memory. Every detail of the cell stood in sharp relief, and none more so than the man chained to the wall. He looked old, his every breath wheezing.
Caroline lay on the floor, curled up in a ball. Around her neck was a collar, one PsyKick recognized as a crude power suppressor; an old, bulky model from when the tech had still been in its infancy, quite different from the sleek, thin bracelet he had worn.
Her skeletal hand slowly, very slowly inched toward a dagger lying not far from her.
A man’s disembodied voice echoed through the room.
“Pick up the knife, and you can eat.” Her fingers closed around the handle. She slowly raised her head to gaze at the chained man. Her icy eyes burned with hatred.
A gunshot rang out, and PsyKick whirled around, only to realize it was another memory, another time, casting its shadow over this one. An unseen man roared, only to be silenced by a second gunshot.
He could hear Caroline getting up behind him, slowly and painstakingly, but he did not turn to watch. Instead, he walked toward the cell door, even as he heard her stumble and choke, and pushed it open, shading his eyes against the blinding light on the other side.
The door slammed shut behind him and he turned to blink at it, slightly dazed.
The dungeon door stood alone, connecting to nothing, at the very edge of one of the floating islands he’d seen. When his gaze strayed beyond, he could see the temple in the distance, hovering somewhere far beneath.
Tiny threads of light were fanning from the edges of the door and it took him a moment to recognize them for what they were.
Fractures.
Scars in the very fabric of her being.
Not the deep canyons of his own mindscape, but broken nonetheless.
Kindred.
The thought came unbidden and he pushed it away, turning on his heels, and then hissed in a sharp breath at the sight before him.
No, not like me at all.
He’d arrived at the center of her mind, her core, around which all the other islands aligned. And unlike the withered husk that stood at the center of his mindscape, this one burned bright in a multitude of prismatic colors.
PsyKick had never found the words to describe to others what a mind looked like to him. It was shaped like a human, yet also not at all, its form flowing and changing and still so very recognizable as the person it belonged to. PsyKick knew exactly what Willpower looked like, but could not hope to actually draw a picture of it.
Caroline’s core was the very essence of Willpower, mixed with Longing – for what? he wondered – all entwined with Love and Hatred, held together with adamant Determination.
Perhaps she’d yielded, but this was not the spirit of someone broken.
Above all, PsyKick thought she was beautiful, his rapt gaze on the swirling light for a long time. His fingers itched to touch it, even though he knew that such contact would be far too intimate, and that was something to say for someone currently inhabiting her body.
That thought brought him back to the purpose of his visit. Whatever he might have seen in passing, he was not here to spy. He thoughtfully gazed at the glowing isles studding the firmament.
He needed to find the conscious part of her and get its attention. Since she had his powers, theoretically she should sense his intrusion, but he doubted she understood the sensation she was feeling, let alone possessed the control to appear in her mindscape at will.
PsyKick would have to wait until she fell asleep as well, and hope she dreamt of the path he was on. Of course, there were ways in which he could increase the likelihood of running into her. He just had to choose a spot she was likely to think about.
In the distance, he saw a very familiar mansion hovering in the sky.
Where is the real Ian?
Bingo.
Now to figure out how to get there without his powers
Caroline paced the length of the abandoned warehouse with long strides, rubbing her temples. Just when she thought she had begun to figure out how to quiet the voices down, suddenly they’d become unbearable once more.
One voice kept surfacing, she was certain of it, but she couldn’t hear it over the others. Only once did the word beautiful ring loud and clear in her mind before it faded to a low murmur.
She slumped against the stained wall, exhausted.
Caroline didn’t even have an apartment in the city. She’d just counted on being able to teleport to one of the nice cozy cabins she kept sprinkled all over the world. To rent a hotel room was to leave a hint to her presence. Radiance never left a trail to follow. That, after all, was what made teleporters so desirable in her line of work – the ability to be untraceable, to skip borders and customs, to strike anywhere in the world while her headquarters were elsewhere.
But now she was trapped.
Even if she had somewhere to go, she couldn’t actually step foot outside. She’d tried and as soon as she got near the more populated areas, she’d all but passed out at the overwhelming mental feedback.
She drew her knees up to her chest, breathing calmly and evenly.
Radiance could go days without sleep if necessary, and would have refrained from it until she had more word on Ian, but… perhaps being rested would help her mental discipline. She was completely useless like this.
Her eyelids drooped and her head slumped. Sleep came to her within minutes.
The little boy pressed himself against the tree trunk, narrowing his eyes at his target. Then he darted to the next tree, hiding behind that one. Or trying, to, anyway. Using flailing somersaults and rolls into low crouches as a primary mode of transportation was really not all that stealthy.
Nonetheless, the young teenage girl did not appear to notice him – not until he tackled her from behind. Then she suddenly whipped around and caught him, prompting a child’s high-pitched shriek of protest.
“You fool!” she crowed. “You have walked right into my trap, oh mighty Captain Patriot! Now face the wrath… of my hug!”
“Ah! Curse you, villain!” the black-haired boy yelled, and failed to wiggle out of her tight embrace.
The future assassin laughed, and the boy who would become one of the most brutal vigilantes Paragon had ever known giggled in response.
“Three out of five?” Ian offered.
“You’ll never defeat me,” Caroline said smugly.
And PsyKick watched the two children fade away, only for the two of them – older, now – to run past him.
The mansion and the surrounding estate were filled with echoes of the two of them. PsyKick had yet to see their parents.
Their forms were slightly blurred and shiny; he was watching the memories dulled yet enhanced by the filter of nostalgia. PsyKick wondered if Shade had truly been that happy a child or if that, too, was just Caroline’s perception; watching the shy boy he had known mostly as a violently unstable hero was beyond surreal.
Getting here had taken some twists and turns in Caroline’s labyrinthine mind, stumbling upon more memories – some quite disturbing – but he’d finally found the way and was now whiling away the time.
The love that permeated this part of her mind was palpable.
And he’d reached the conclusion that whatever Caroline was, she was not evil.
But not good either.
A breeze rustled the estate’s trees – only to turn into a gale, ripping away the leaves until they were left skeletal and barren. The three sets of siblings that had still been playing in one form or another dissolved into nothingness.
PsyKick raised his head.
She was here.
The assassin stood not far from him, white hood drawn over her face. Unlike his mental projection, hers was not fully corporeal, flickering like the image of an old TV.
“You.”
He saw her lips move, yet that was not where her voice was coming from. It reverberated all around him, the very ground shaking at the low rumble.
“You don’t belong here.”
“I don’t,” he agreed, watching her with apprehension. He was not sure how sentient her dream-self would be, but hoped she would be rational enough for a conversation.
The gale became stronger until he had to shield his eyes against it.
“Get out.”
“Don’t you want your body back, Caroline?” he yelled over the howling wind.
The landscape froze. PsyKick saw one of the leaves tossed around by the wind hanging suspended in the air.
Caroline cocked her head and even though he could not see her eyes, he was certain they were narrowed.
“Did you pluck my name from my mind, PsyKick?” she hissed.
“Ian told me.”
The ground shook with the force of her anger.
“Well, look who suddenly knows Ian Reynolds after all.” Her voice was laced with contempt. “What did you do to him?”
“Nothing!”
“Liar!”
The wind started howling once more, and PsyKick had to yell over it to make himself heard.
“Your brother is not in the danger you think he’s in!”
The ground to his feet cracked, rocky pillars breaking through and encasing him in a makeshift prison.
“Nobody has replaced him!”
The pillars only grew higher.
“For god’s sake, you have my powers, you can tell when I’m lying!”
That gave her pause.
The wind died down.
And then something vast and powerful crashed against his walls, her inquisitive probing performed with all the skill of… something that wasn’t very good at mindreading. He would think of a better analogy when his mind wasn’t being assaulted.
“Not so hard,” he gritted out, and then reluctantly lowered one of his walls to confirm the truth of his statements as he repeated them. “Ian Reynolds is alive and well. I’m not involved in some sinister plot to replace him, nor are any of the people you saw in the mansion.” He had seen that particular memory while making his way here, freshly burned into her mind.
Caroline said nothing for a long moment.
“Someone was masquerading as him with an illusion.” And for the first time, he heard doubt in the booming voice.
“With Ian’s full consent and knowledge.”
Another slam against his walls and he struggled to draw them back up.
“There’s something you’re not telling me,” she hissed. “I can feel it.”
“Yes. Yes, there is. That’s Ian’s secret to tell you, not mine.” Between teleportation apparently running in the family and a sudden gender swap, the obvious conclusion was not far away. Whatever kind of person Caroline was, she was still a member of the Order, and he was not about to blithely reveal Shade’s secret identity to an assassin, sister or not. Kara could decide for herself if she wanted to take that risk.
There was another lengthy pause.
“…and who are you to my brother, then?”
The answer came to his lips with surprising ease. Despite their less than pleasant history and her harsh words today, Shade had taken him in when he had nowhere else to go, and helped him when everyone else had already given up.
“A friend.”
Caroline wondered if this was even real. Everything was slightly blurred, with that nonsensical dreamy quality to it, yet he stood out in sharp relief, like a live action character in an animated world.
She really hoped it wasn’t.
Yet something told her this was very real.
Which meant…
“Did Ian see you?” she whispered, eyes wide. “In my body?”
He gave a slow nod, and for a moment she saw double, a swirl of color she thought was emotion. But she couldn’t tell what they corresponded to.
“Did you tell him what I did to you?”
“Yes.” His voice was almost gentle, which made no sense, because she had been ready to torture him, Ian’s friend, and now Ian knew what kind of person she’d become.
She wrapped her arms tightly around herself, and that, too, felt real, as if she was back in her body.
Caroline averted her gaze and stared at the starry sky above instead. It was darkening, one light going out after the other.
Comments
Painful Secrets Released
Seems that was the last thing she wanted Ian to know about her. Just hope that she is able to keep hold of herself long enough for PsyKick to make a deal with her.
Quite painful
And a nightmare for Caroline to have that be the new image of her that Ian'll have.
wonderful description
I can just see her mind in... well, my mind. I hope psykick can help her before too many stars go out, I get the impression it would be very bad if they all do. I wonder what specifically they represent. Hope, happiness, maybe nothing specific and she just is starting to feel that she belongs in the dark.
Love the story, thanks for sharing.
The mindscape...
...reflects mood and feelings. The stars going out is basically indicative of just how crushing that news is to Caroline. I imagine that during a depression, those lights would be permanently dimmed.
Heart rending
I know this is fictional. I know it. Bu the emotional situations feel so real.
I am so sad for these people. You have made them feel real to me, and I want their lives to get better.
I hope you help them get better.
Hugs.
PS: Could you write my life, too? It would be so much cooler and kick ass than it is!
My own life
would also be so much cooler if I could be my own author. It'd involve 20% more spandex, for one!
Also, thank you for these lovely compliments. I want their lives to get better, too, which is why I write down their stories :)
A beautiful mind
Such a good chapter - a wonderful addition to a great story.
Even now I am sitting here fighting back the tears that are trying to fall from my eyes. Such pain that Caroline must have known - yet her love for Ian still shines through it all.
Not evil - but not good. That pretty much describes how I feel about myself most of the time. I have done things that I know are not good, yet not for evil reasons. Do the ends ever justify the means? I hope that some day I get the chance to atone for what I have done and seen, but in the meantime we soldier on and do the best we know how.
Dallas
D. Eden
Dum Vivimus, Vivamus
*hugs*
Few people are ever truly fully good or fully evil, and I think that, given a chance and the will to do it, atonement is within reach for anyone. Having done bad things does not preclude someone from being a truly loving person. *snugs*
time to come clean
Caroline needs to come home and clear the air. thats not easy though.
good chapter, thanks
No, not easy at all
Love rarely is :)
“A friend.”
Have I said how much I'm enjoying this series yet? No? Well, I am loving this!
Aw
Thank you, Dorothy! *smiles* Have I mentioned how much I'm enjoying your comments? <3
Surrealistic.
And very vivid descriptions there of mindscapes, both in this chapter and the last one. Can Caroline reconcile the things she's done and does for a living enough to face her one time brother? Will Kara be able to accept her sister and move on with life? I would like to think so. both are obviously strong people and we already know that Kara/Shade is capable of changing her perceptions and responses with people.
And maybe, just maybe, PsyKick has found someone to help in his redemption?
Maggie
Knowledge
Caroline has no idea what her brother has become, and that he wouldn't blame her for her actions like she thinks he will. Hopefully this can be mended sooner rather than later.
-Tas