Max and Splint cajoled, bribed, wheedled and finally ordered Kara to stay in the apartment a day or so. Until noon on her first full day in the City, Splint seemed hesitant to talk to her. Kara preferred being left alone, at least for awhile. She'd come to accept solitude as something that was just... normal.
But eventually she managed to trap Splint by sitting on his couch and waiting for him to leave the kitchen. He didn't seem the type to just strut right past her without so much as a nod, and wasn't. He emerged, blinked at Kara, shrugged and came to sit with her.
"Holding up OK?" Splint asked, leaning back.
"Not bad," said Kara truthfully.
Splint seemed to be searching for something to say. "Um- so, what's it like?"
"What's what like?"
"Being pregnant. Or being you, take your pick."
She gave him a disdainful look. "Well, Splint, would you be in a mood to suffer fools if you'd been traipsing around North America for eight months, living on the streets and becoming steadily fatter and more emotional? I'm not one to whine, but you're damned lucky to be male, Splint."
He nodded and grinned. "I can understand that."
"How've you spent your time since the fire?" asked Kara.
"Not spectacularly. I lived in Washington awhile, tried to set a unit member of mine up with something... basically we lay low until she had to move here because the people in her apartment complex were getting suspicious. Listen-"
"What?"
Splint fidgeted, embarrassed. "It's a chore trying to get any food... security's tight around, you know, and they check a lot for barcodes and stuff. I used to get mine lasered away once a fortnight 'til- well, anyway. I don't have much here right now, but what I do get is... you get first pick."
Kara Smirked. "Articulate, aren't you?"
He managed to smile at her. "Very."
"You don't have to treat me like a charity case, you know. I just needed someplace to sleep," said Kara warily. "Tomorrow- the day after, at the very latest- I'll split and you can have your place back."
Splint seemed mildly concerned. "Ah, c'mon, Kara. Don't do that," he said in a pleading tone- she couldn't tell whether he was making fun of her or not. "I like your company."
"You haven't had any of my company, Splint!"
"Fair enough. Can I have an example of your company?"
Her eyebrows went skywards. "Why?"
"So I can tell you I like your company," he said, as if it were obvious.
"Uh- OK."
A pause. Kara wracked her brain for something to say.
"Tell me something."
"When I was in Helena I got a CD player and one CD. I think it's OK. I'm not crazy about music, to tell the truth. Or books, for that matter." Kara picked up a paperback from halfway under the couch. "What're you reading this for?"
"Borrowed it off a friend. Beats doing sprints in the rain for fun. Now, you don't like books or music. What do you do to amuse yourself?"
"Dunno. Exercise. Walk. Talk to people, then rip them to shreds- figuratively, that is- as soon as their back is turned." Her face fell. "Damn, I don't have anyone to help me mess with people's minds any more."
"You could mess with my mind double time and make up the difference," Splint suggested. She tossed her hair and glared at him, and he smiled. "I think I like your company, Kara."
"Shut up."
"No, really."
She gave him a hard look, but couldn't keep the shine from her eyes. "You're an idiot. And what kinda name is Splint anyhow? Are you aware that a splint's a piece of medical equipment? Why didn't you call yourself Bandage or Gurney while you were being really simple?"
"Seemed fitting considering I spent so much time in the infirmary as a child," muttered Splint. Kara was pleased. She'd obviously hit a nerve there.
"Oh, were you deficient?"
"Nah, just awkward."
"Do continue."
"I'm also allergic. To the weirdest stuff, too. I once ate a certain kind of flour and passed out after four hours. I missed out on some of the grizzlier Manticore testing because of some of my allergies, though. Chlorine's a bad one, so no being bolted to the bottom of a pool. Neurology drugs, so no induced seizures. And pain."
"Pain?"
"Well, that would have been nice. My limbs were- ARE a real puzzle. I mean, the rate I managed to fall on my ass, or thereabouts, and break this-or-that a limb they wanted to know how they healed good as new," said Splint matter-of-factly.
"Ah, well, you look the allergic type."
Splint raised his eyebrows. "How d'you figure?"
Laughing, she brushed the shadows under his eyes with outstretched fingers. "Pale and interesting," she smirked.
"Everyone's commented on those at least once. Would you believe I haven't slept in a week and a half?"
"Hmm?"
"Yeah, and my threshold is four days. I'm weak like that."
Kara decided to withhold the fact that she could go three days without any sleep. A week at most, but any time after that was pushing it.
"How come you've been dashing around so much? Or have you been sitting here, twiddling your thumbs and waiting for a social life?"
"Ha, ha. Actually, I've been helping my unit member get settled. She's kinda weird in her ways, doesn't get on with people. Really intense, she is."
"I'd like to meet her."
"You might. And Kara?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm not pale."
"I know you're not, but you can see those damned shadows ten klicks off. As your ward, I insist you sleep tonight."
"Yes, Mom. That reminds me, I oughta go visit with her. Can you believe she suggested we don't spend enough time together?" He shook his head, standing up.
"The wench. C'mon, help me up," Kara said cheerfully, raising her hands.
Splint chivvied her hands away. "Hey, you're not coming! You're meant to be resting!"
"So are you!"
"You don't count. You're physically exhausted!"
She snorted. "Oh, yeah, we all really believe THAT. Help me up, please, or we'll find out exactly how quick that neck of yours can heal, hmm?"
Splint managed to laugh, gazing at her. "You're incredible."
"Incredibly pissed, if I don't get to come and see this needy X5 of yours."
He gave up and helped her to stand. And as Kara followed him out of the apartment she couldn't help but think something. You know, I think I like his company too.
And she didn't squash that thought, which she gathered would turn out a bad decision.
The streets of Terminal City were wide and cold. Rainwater pooled in potholes in the road, and trash collected at the foot of the more dilapidated buildings. In the distance Kara could see the charred skeletons of what had once been trees. Not many transgenics could be seen- some sat in doorways or hurried down alleys. The only thing missing from this proverbial ghost town was the obligatory tumbleweed.
"So this is the Holy Land," she said dryly after some minutes of walking in silence, gazing around with blue febrile eyes.
"Ah, the nightlife's better. Less Ordinaries around to give you grief, huh?" said Splint easily. "The X8s play a lot of sports, that's always a laugh to see."
"Wow, the sporting exploits of a bunch of eight and nine-year-olds. I can't wai-" Kara began to reply sarcastically.
She was interrupted, however, by a summoning whistle coupled with a delighted yell of, "767!"
The voice came from behind them, and Kara knew who it was instantly. She was suddenly kicking herself for not identifying her rescuer from the mob. The fact that terror and seizures had gripped her was utterly no excuse.
There came crunching footfalls as the owner of the voice strode over to them. "767, you lucky bitch! Glad to see you're out at last! How're you holding up?"
Kara grinned. "Hey, 735."
To Kara's surprise, X5-735 hugged her briefly. She still had the sweatshirt, but had tied it around her shoulders like a shawl. "Aw, don't call me that. I realised a few months ago- designations sound STUPID. To anyone who's asking, I'm Sophie Nichols now."
Kara gazed at her older sister. "Well, damn. Really?"
"If you want to know the truth I was Ann-ni Lee last week, but it's definitely Sophie Nichols now."
She laughed. "Fair enough."
Sophie nodded at Splint. "Hey, Splint."
"Sophie," he said with a wave.
"So what're you doing out?" asked Sophie, addressing them both.
"Gotta check up on You-Know-Who," said Splint.
"Ah, our very own angst-ridden, suicidal little recluse," nodded Sophie, putting a hand on her hip. "And how is the Drama Queen?"
"Cut her a little slack, she's had a hard life," said Splint, his voice a little hard and annoyed.
"We all have, it's no excuse. And the recluse isn't in her room. I'm afraid she and Amna are in the car park nearby the gates. I think they ENJOY getting obscenities screamed at them. I mean, the masochistic recluse I can understand, but Amna?"
"C'mon, let's go, Kara. Coming, Sophie?" asked Splint.
"Sure, whatever. Hey- Kara? Is that your name?"
Kara beamed. "Yeah. Kara Kirk."
"Whoa, and she's even got that whole alliterative thing goin' on," laughed Sophie.
Like much of the City during daylight hours, the car park was nearly deserted due to the nearby fence with faraway, fanatical chanting drifting over it. A couple of anomalies were crowded around a trashcan fire and over by a cement column were the forms of two female X5s.
Between them, Splint and Sophie coaxed her over to meet them. They were obviously Wyoming X5s if Splint knew them well, and Kara had always been slightly scathing of the Wyoming group. She didn't know how they would react to her.
Sophie did not seem to pick up on this concern. "Kara Kirk, meet Amna Guevara and Cloe Malone," grinned Sophie.
"Hey."
"Hello."
They were both X5s. One was the spitting image of her X5 sister X5-348, who'd gone AWOL after the fire. She was dark and very tall, with straight brown hair that looked black in certain kinds of light. Her arms were folded assertively across her front.
Amna looked an OK sort. Likeable.
The other was 620's clone. She was very short for an X5, with lengthening brown hair and wide green eyes.
Cloe.
She'd been with Dylan. She'd asked him to call her Cloe. What the hell for? Kara regarded Cloe coolly and decided to reserve judgement.
Splint clapped Cloe on her diminutive shoulder. "Cloe, you- um-"
"Splint, I don't really need you to baby me. No more repeats of 2009, OK? I don't get to go 'til I'm good and worn out," said Cloe, frowning up at him.
Sophie shrugged at Kara as Kara gave her a quizzical look.
Splint blushed, avoiding both Cloe and Kara's eyes. "I'm not! I came to return your book." He pulled one out of the back pocket of his jeans, handing it to her.
She studied it. "That's not my book," she reported.
Splint blinked and squinted at it. "Uh, wrong one?" he muttered.
Amna snickered. "Way to fuck up thinly veiled attempt at checking up on our baby sister, Splint."
"I'm the same age as you both," retorted Cloe.
"Yeah, you'd never guess it, though. You look like a midget fifteen-year-old without a figure," sneered Sophie.
Cloe looked affronted. Splint coughed, obviously not accustomed to thinking of his sisters as being developed at all.
"You heard what the scientists said. I happen to be a little under the average height for a normal woman."
"- In other words, she's short," hissed Sophie. Kara giggled.
"... Puts victims at rest because I don't look dangerous. It's not MY fault the rest of you are Jesus-Christ giants," muttered Cloe, scuffing a shoe.
"Enough with the Biblical references, Malone," ordered Amna.
"You guys are always picking on me," hissed Cloe.
"Hey, that's enough," frowned Splint. "Break it up."
"Yeah, sheath those claws, ladies," smirked Kara. "Rowr."
Amna and Sophie smiled in approval. Splint laughed, and even Cloe managed to twitch her lips slightly.
"Seen any others of our group, Kara?" asked Sophie, changing the subject.
"I, um, ran into X5-418 in Montana," said Kara unenthusiastically.
Cloe immediately perked up. "Really? How is he?"
"He helped me get here. His name's, uh, Dylan Murphy now. We- when- when I first met up with him, he was quite good save for his cough."
"Cool," said Amna dismissively.
"Yeah, cool," said Cloe, a dull green shine in her eyes.
"Wait- a cough? An Ordinary cough?" asked Amna. "Was he deficient or something? And Cloe, wasn't your breeding partner X5-4-something-8? Bet you guys made a good couple."
Cloe did not reply.
Kara had a lump in her throat that would not dissolve. She had to tell someone. Now. Or she would explode, and it was not pretty when Kara Kirk exploded.
"I- uh- guys?"
"Yeah?" said Splint, Sophie, Amna and Cloe in unison.
"418 got his throat slit last time I saw him."
Kara could almost see the cogs working in Amna and Splint's heads, figuring out that the clone of one of their group- a long-dead boy, Splint would later tell her, they had called Jack- was gone. Sophie looked shocked and angry.
The biggest reaction came from Cloe. Her face fell. She bit so hard at her lip that her teeth started to draw blood, twisting her fingers through each other so that they made cracking noises.
"Are- are you sure?" she asked softly.
"I saw it happen," said Kara, giving Cloe a curious look. For Heaven's sakes, all she'd done was sleep with the guy. Kara had known him since babyhood.
For someone who knew him so slightly as Cloe, she certainly seemed upset. She started to cry. Everyone looked at her, appalled, because they were unused to people crying and did not know how to get it to stop.
Amna patted Cloe awkwardly on the back as she hid her face in her hands. Splint's hand wavered over his X5 sister a moment, he seemed to decide against mimicking Amna and pulled his hand away.
"What the hell's she crying for?" Kara asked shrilly, taking a step backward.
"Don't heed Cloe," said Amna easily. "She gets pretty shaken up about some things. But it's never serious. She always bounces back."
Cloe's head snapped up. "Bullshit!" she hissed, tears still spurting from her eyes. Splint and Amna gaped at her.
"Cloe!" cried Splint, astonished.
She glared. "You don't have a clue how I feel," she declared fervently. Cloe then turned on her heel and walked away as fast as she could, with surprising composure for a woman crying so hard.
Sophie and Kara exchanged a glance. Splint was talking to himself. "... Cloe doesn't SWEAR. Cloe's never said anything worse than 'Jesus' or 'damn' in her life."
"Yeah, she picked THAT one up off me," commented Amna absently.
She turned to the Washington X5s. "I'm sorry about your brother. I'm sure he died well," she said seriously.
Kara resisted the urge to say that she didn't have a brother and said thickly, "He did."
"You really oughta be grieving, Kara," said Sophie, whose eyes were oddly bright. "He was your best friend."
Kara tossed her hair with a slightly wavery Smirk. "Sophie, we're Manticore."
Sophie gave a defeated sigh. "Yeah. We don't grieve."
* * *
DISCLAIMER: 'Dark Angel' belongs to Fox and James Cameron. All the songs on the soundtrack belong to their respective owners. Not me. So don't sue.
NOTE: I'm sorry this chapter took so long. At every moment I wanted to write something would come up. The latest distraction was my little sister jumping up and down and telling me I look like various animals, and winging things at me. Grr. And now is a perfect time to write, because my older sister has a new boyfriend (who I've named the Loo Brush because of his hair and personality) and is out with him constantly. The two of us are the only people in the family who know how to use a computer, so I should have been good to go.
Sophie is, of course, Brin's Washington clone. It was nice to introduce Cloe and Amna. They both have their own standalone fics on my profile- 'Alive' and 'Blood and Tears' respectively. (Hint... review... hint, hint...) You might want to check out 'Alive', anyway, to find out what happened in '09 that Cloe's promised not to repeat. Although it's probably completely obvious. *SHAKES HEAD AT OWN STUPIDITY*
It's a double long weekend right now, and I have three bits of homework I should be doing, but I can't be stuffed, really. And they're not bad now that I think about it- in one I have to write about the hero and villain of a film (I've chosen 'Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within'). Then for another I have to investigate three television shows and their attitudes to adult relationships (my first choice was 'Dark Angel', naturallemant). Then for the third I have to be the judge at Ned Kelly's trial and decide whether he was guilty or innocent of shooting an officer in the police force at a place called- get this- Stringybark Creek. It is IMPOSSIBLE for me to be serious about something if it happened at a place called Stringybark Creek.
My condolences to all the Heath Ledger fans out there, but I've decided to string the bastard up. *MANIACAL GRIN* It'll make for an interesting end to my essay, and it's more authentic anyhow.
I'm utterly, wholly crappy at writing American slang. I try and try, but they just sound like me, for God's sakes. Let me ask any Americans or people who know Americans out there- is there an American expression for 'taking the piss out of something'? Kara takes the piss out of things a lot, except I don't know how to have her say it. In case you don't say that where you're from, basically it means making fun of things. So if I were to find the way one of the teachers sings comical and imitated it to my friends later, I'd be taking the piss out of them.
Sorry if I sound like I think all Americans are stupid or something. We actually use a lot of your slang where I'm from. But just a tip for anyone writing Australians- I have never heard a teenager in my country refer to anybody as 'mate'. I call my friends as a whole my 'mates' (sometimes), but to use it on one single person in a joking manner is what old bearded dudes at barbecues (or barbies, as they call them o_0. I had English sort-of relatives over once, one of my mum's old schoolfriends and her kids- when we said we were going to have a barbie for dinner they looked at us like we were insane) do.
SONGS FOR CHAPTER SEVEN:
The Terminal City Theme- 'Living In Chaos' by The Offspring
But eventually she managed to trap Splint by sitting on his couch and waiting for him to leave the kitchen. He didn't seem the type to just strut right past her without so much as a nod, and wasn't. He emerged, blinked at Kara, shrugged and came to sit with her.
"Holding up OK?" Splint asked, leaning back.
"Not bad," said Kara truthfully.
Splint seemed to be searching for something to say. "Um- so, what's it like?"
"What's what like?"
"Being pregnant. Or being you, take your pick."
She gave him a disdainful look. "Well, Splint, would you be in a mood to suffer fools if you'd been traipsing around North America for eight months, living on the streets and becoming steadily fatter and more emotional? I'm not one to whine, but you're damned lucky to be male, Splint."
He nodded and grinned. "I can understand that."
"How've you spent your time since the fire?" asked Kara.
"Not spectacularly. I lived in Washington awhile, tried to set a unit member of mine up with something... basically we lay low until she had to move here because the people in her apartment complex were getting suspicious. Listen-"
"What?"
Splint fidgeted, embarrassed. "It's a chore trying to get any food... security's tight around, you know, and they check a lot for barcodes and stuff. I used to get mine lasered away once a fortnight 'til- well, anyway. I don't have much here right now, but what I do get is... you get first pick."
Kara Smirked. "Articulate, aren't you?"
He managed to smile at her. "Very."
"You don't have to treat me like a charity case, you know. I just needed someplace to sleep," said Kara warily. "Tomorrow- the day after, at the very latest- I'll split and you can have your place back."
Splint seemed mildly concerned. "Ah, c'mon, Kara. Don't do that," he said in a pleading tone- she couldn't tell whether he was making fun of her or not. "I like your company."
"You haven't had any of my company, Splint!"
"Fair enough. Can I have an example of your company?"
Her eyebrows went skywards. "Why?"
"So I can tell you I like your company," he said, as if it were obvious.
"Uh- OK."
A pause. Kara wracked her brain for something to say.
"Tell me something."
"When I was in Helena I got a CD player and one CD. I think it's OK. I'm not crazy about music, to tell the truth. Or books, for that matter." Kara picked up a paperback from halfway under the couch. "What're you reading this for?"
"Borrowed it off a friend. Beats doing sprints in the rain for fun. Now, you don't like books or music. What do you do to amuse yourself?"
"Dunno. Exercise. Walk. Talk to people, then rip them to shreds- figuratively, that is- as soon as their back is turned." Her face fell. "Damn, I don't have anyone to help me mess with people's minds any more."
"You could mess with my mind double time and make up the difference," Splint suggested. She tossed her hair and glared at him, and he smiled. "I think I like your company, Kara."
"Shut up."
"No, really."
She gave him a hard look, but couldn't keep the shine from her eyes. "You're an idiot. And what kinda name is Splint anyhow? Are you aware that a splint's a piece of medical equipment? Why didn't you call yourself Bandage or Gurney while you were being really simple?"
"Seemed fitting considering I spent so much time in the infirmary as a child," muttered Splint. Kara was pleased. She'd obviously hit a nerve there.
"Oh, were you deficient?"
"Nah, just awkward."
"Do continue."
"I'm also allergic. To the weirdest stuff, too. I once ate a certain kind of flour and passed out after four hours. I missed out on some of the grizzlier Manticore testing because of some of my allergies, though. Chlorine's a bad one, so no being bolted to the bottom of a pool. Neurology drugs, so no induced seizures. And pain."
"Pain?"
"Well, that would have been nice. My limbs were- ARE a real puzzle. I mean, the rate I managed to fall on my ass, or thereabouts, and break this-or-that a limb they wanted to know how they healed good as new," said Splint matter-of-factly.
"Ah, well, you look the allergic type."
Splint raised his eyebrows. "How d'you figure?"
Laughing, she brushed the shadows under his eyes with outstretched fingers. "Pale and interesting," she smirked.
"Everyone's commented on those at least once. Would you believe I haven't slept in a week and a half?"
"Hmm?"
"Yeah, and my threshold is four days. I'm weak like that."
Kara decided to withhold the fact that she could go three days without any sleep. A week at most, but any time after that was pushing it.
"How come you've been dashing around so much? Or have you been sitting here, twiddling your thumbs and waiting for a social life?"
"Ha, ha. Actually, I've been helping my unit member get settled. She's kinda weird in her ways, doesn't get on with people. Really intense, she is."
"I'd like to meet her."
"You might. And Kara?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm not pale."
"I know you're not, but you can see those damned shadows ten klicks off. As your ward, I insist you sleep tonight."
"Yes, Mom. That reminds me, I oughta go visit with her. Can you believe she suggested we don't spend enough time together?" He shook his head, standing up.
"The wench. C'mon, help me up," Kara said cheerfully, raising her hands.
Splint chivvied her hands away. "Hey, you're not coming! You're meant to be resting!"
"So are you!"
"You don't count. You're physically exhausted!"
She snorted. "Oh, yeah, we all really believe THAT. Help me up, please, or we'll find out exactly how quick that neck of yours can heal, hmm?"
Splint managed to laugh, gazing at her. "You're incredible."
"Incredibly pissed, if I don't get to come and see this needy X5 of yours."
He gave up and helped her to stand. And as Kara followed him out of the apartment she couldn't help but think something. You know, I think I like his company too.
And she didn't squash that thought, which she gathered would turn out a bad decision.
The streets of Terminal City were wide and cold. Rainwater pooled in potholes in the road, and trash collected at the foot of the more dilapidated buildings. In the distance Kara could see the charred skeletons of what had once been trees. Not many transgenics could be seen- some sat in doorways or hurried down alleys. The only thing missing from this proverbial ghost town was the obligatory tumbleweed.
"So this is the Holy Land," she said dryly after some minutes of walking in silence, gazing around with blue febrile eyes.
"Ah, the nightlife's better. Less Ordinaries around to give you grief, huh?" said Splint easily. "The X8s play a lot of sports, that's always a laugh to see."
"Wow, the sporting exploits of a bunch of eight and nine-year-olds. I can't wai-" Kara began to reply sarcastically.
She was interrupted, however, by a summoning whistle coupled with a delighted yell of, "767!"
The voice came from behind them, and Kara knew who it was instantly. She was suddenly kicking herself for not identifying her rescuer from the mob. The fact that terror and seizures had gripped her was utterly no excuse.
There came crunching footfalls as the owner of the voice strode over to them. "767, you lucky bitch! Glad to see you're out at last! How're you holding up?"
Kara grinned. "Hey, 735."
To Kara's surprise, X5-735 hugged her briefly. She still had the sweatshirt, but had tied it around her shoulders like a shawl. "Aw, don't call me that. I realised a few months ago- designations sound STUPID. To anyone who's asking, I'm Sophie Nichols now."
Kara gazed at her older sister. "Well, damn. Really?"
"If you want to know the truth I was Ann-ni Lee last week, but it's definitely Sophie Nichols now."
She laughed. "Fair enough."
Sophie nodded at Splint. "Hey, Splint."
"Sophie," he said with a wave.
"So what're you doing out?" asked Sophie, addressing them both.
"Gotta check up on You-Know-Who," said Splint.
"Ah, our very own angst-ridden, suicidal little recluse," nodded Sophie, putting a hand on her hip. "And how is the Drama Queen?"
"Cut her a little slack, she's had a hard life," said Splint, his voice a little hard and annoyed.
"We all have, it's no excuse. And the recluse isn't in her room. I'm afraid she and Amna are in the car park nearby the gates. I think they ENJOY getting obscenities screamed at them. I mean, the masochistic recluse I can understand, but Amna?"
"C'mon, let's go, Kara. Coming, Sophie?" asked Splint.
"Sure, whatever. Hey- Kara? Is that your name?"
Kara beamed. "Yeah. Kara Kirk."
"Whoa, and she's even got that whole alliterative thing goin' on," laughed Sophie.
Like much of the City during daylight hours, the car park was nearly deserted due to the nearby fence with faraway, fanatical chanting drifting over it. A couple of anomalies were crowded around a trashcan fire and over by a cement column were the forms of two female X5s.
Between them, Splint and Sophie coaxed her over to meet them. They were obviously Wyoming X5s if Splint knew them well, and Kara had always been slightly scathing of the Wyoming group. She didn't know how they would react to her.
Sophie did not seem to pick up on this concern. "Kara Kirk, meet Amna Guevara and Cloe Malone," grinned Sophie.
"Hey."
"Hello."
They were both X5s. One was the spitting image of her X5 sister X5-348, who'd gone AWOL after the fire. She was dark and very tall, with straight brown hair that looked black in certain kinds of light. Her arms were folded assertively across her front.
Amna looked an OK sort. Likeable.
The other was 620's clone. She was very short for an X5, with lengthening brown hair and wide green eyes.
Cloe.
She'd been with Dylan. She'd asked him to call her Cloe. What the hell for? Kara regarded Cloe coolly and decided to reserve judgement.
Splint clapped Cloe on her diminutive shoulder. "Cloe, you- um-"
"Splint, I don't really need you to baby me. No more repeats of 2009, OK? I don't get to go 'til I'm good and worn out," said Cloe, frowning up at him.
Sophie shrugged at Kara as Kara gave her a quizzical look.
Splint blushed, avoiding both Cloe and Kara's eyes. "I'm not! I came to return your book." He pulled one out of the back pocket of his jeans, handing it to her.
She studied it. "That's not my book," she reported.
Splint blinked and squinted at it. "Uh, wrong one?" he muttered.
Amna snickered. "Way to fuck up thinly veiled attempt at checking up on our baby sister, Splint."
"I'm the same age as you both," retorted Cloe.
"Yeah, you'd never guess it, though. You look like a midget fifteen-year-old without a figure," sneered Sophie.
Cloe looked affronted. Splint coughed, obviously not accustomed to thinking of his sisters as being developed at all.
"You heard what the scientists said. I happen to be a little under the average height for a normal woman."
"- In other words, she's short," hissed Sophie. Kara giggled.
"... Puts victims at rest because I don't look dangerous. It's not MY fault the rest of you are Jesus-Christ giants," muttered Cloe, scuffing a shoe.
"Enough with the Biblical references, Malone," ordered Amna.
"You guys are always picking on me," hissed Cloe.
"Hey, that's enough," frowned Splint. "Break it up."
"Yeah, sheath those claws, ladies," smirked Kara. "Rowr."
Amna and Sophie smiled in approval. Splint laughed, and even Cloe managed to twitch her lips slightly.
"Seen any others of our group, Kara?" asked Sophie, changing the subject.
"I, um, ran into X5-418 in Montana," said Kara unenthusiastically.
Cloe immediately perked up. "Really? How is he?"
"He helped me get here. His name's, uh, Dylan Murphy now. We- when- when I first met up with him, he was quite good save for his cough."
"Cool," said Amna dismissively.
"Yeah, cool," said Cloe, a dull green shine in her eyes.
"Wait- a cough? An Ordinary cough?" asked Amna. "Was he deficient or something? And Cloe, wasn't your breeding partner X5-4-something-8? Bet you guys made a good couple."
Cloe did not reply.
Kara had a lump in her throat that would not dissolve. She had to tell someone. Now. Or she would explode, and it was not pretty when Kara Kirk exploded.
"I- uh- guys?"
"Yeah?" said Splint, Sophie, Amna and Cloe in unison.
"418 got his throat slit last time I saw him."
Kara could almost see the cogs working in Amna and Splint's heads, figuring out that the clone of one of their group- a long-dead boy, Splint would later tell her, they had called Jack- was gone. Sophie looked shocked and angry.
The biggest reaction came from Cloe. Her face fell. She bit so hard at her lip that her teeth started to draw blood, twisting her fingers through each other so that they made cracking noises.
"Are- are you sure?" she asked softly.
"I saw it happen," said Kara, giving Cloe a curious look. For Heaven's sakes, all she'd done was sleep with the guy. Kara had known him since babyhood.
For someone who knew him so slightly as Cloe, she certainly seemed upset. She started to cry. Everyone looked at her, appalled, because they were unused to people crying and did not know how to get it to stop.
Amna patted Cloe awkwardly on the back as she hid her face in her hands. Splint's hand wavered over his X5 sister a moment, he seemed to decide against mimicking Amna and pulled his hand away.
"What the hell's she crying for?" Kara asked shrilly, taking a step backward.
"Don't heed Cloe," said Amna easily. "She gets pretty shaken up about some things. But it's never serious. She always bounces back."
Cloe's head snapped up. "Bullshit!" she hissed, tears still spurting from her eyes. Splint and Amna gaped at her.
"Cloe!" cried Splint, astonished.
She glared. "You don't have a clue how I feel," she declared fervently. Cloe then turned on her heel and walked away as fast as she could, with surprising composure for a woman crying so hard.
Sophie and Kara exchanged a glance. Splint was talking to himself. "... Cloe doesn't SWEAR. Cloe's never said anything worse than 'Jesus' or 'damn' in her life."
"Yeah, she picked THAT one up off me," commented Amna absently.
She turned to the Washington X5s. "I'm sorry about your brother. I'm sure he died well," she said seriously.
Kara resisted the urge to say that she didn't have a brother and said thickly, "He did."
"You really oughta be grieving, Kara," said Sophie, whose eyes were oddly bright. "He was your best friend."
Kara tossed her hair with a slightly wavery Smirk. "Sophie, we're Manticore."
Sophie gave a defeated sigh. "Yeah. We don't grieve."
* * *
DISCLAIMER: 'Dark Angel' belongs to Fox and James Cameron. All the songs on the soundtrack belong to their respective owners. Not me. So don't sue.
NOTE: I'm sorry this chapter took so long. At every moment I wanted to write something would come up. The latest distraction was my little sister jumping up and down and telling me I look like various animals, and winging things at me. Grr. And now is a perfect time to write, because my older sister has a new boyfriend (who I've named the Loo Brush because of his hair and personality) and is out with him constantly. The two of us are the only people in the family who know how to use a computer, so I should have been good to go.
Sophie is, of course, Brin's Washington clone. It was nice to introduce Cloe and Amna. They both have their own standalone fics on my profile- 'Alive' and 'Blood and Tears' respectively. (Hint... review... hint, hint...) You might want to check out 'Alive', anyway, to find out what happened in '09 that Cloe's promised not to repeat. Although it's probably completely obvious. *SHAKES HEAD AT OWN STUPIDITY*
It's a double long weekend right now, and I have three bits of homework I should be doing, but I can't be stuffed, really. And they're not bad now that I think about it- in one I have to write about the hero and villain of a film (I've chosen 'Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within'). Then for another I have to investigate three television shows and their attitudes to adult relationships (my first choice was 'Dark Angel', naturallemant). Then for the third I have to be the judge at Ned Kelly's trial and decide whether he was guilty or innocent of shooting an officer in the police force at a place called- get this- Stringybark Creek. It is IMPOSSIBLE for me to be serious about something if it happened at a place called Stringybark Creek.
My condolences to all the Heath Ledger fans out there, but I've decided to string the bastard up. *MANIACAL GRIN* It'll make for an interesting end to my essay, and it's more authentic anyhow.
I'm utterly, wholly crappy at writing American slang. I try and try, but they just sound like me, for God's sakes. Let me ask any Americans or people who know Americans out there- is there an American expression for 'taking the piss out of something'? Kara takes the piss out of things a lot, except I don't know how to have her say it. In case you don't say that where you're from, basically it means making fun of things. So if I were to find the way one of the teachers sings comical and imitated it to my friends later, I'd be taking the piss out of them.
Sorry if I sound like I think all Americans are stupid or something. We actually use a lot of your slang where I'm from. But just a tip for anyone writing Australians- I have never heard a teenager in my country refer to anybody as 'mate'. I call my friends as a whole my 'mates' (sometimes), but to use it on one single person in a joking manner is what old bearded dudes at barbecues (or barbies, as they call them o_0. I had English sort-of relatives over once, one of my mum's old schoolfriends and her kids- when we said we were going to have a barbie for dinner they looked at us like we were insane) do.
SONGS FOR CHAPTER SEVEN:
The Terminal City Theme- 'Living In Chaos' by The Offspring
