“This morning is the start of the rest of my life. I have no illusions about its length. But if I’m going to die, I’m going to do it as myself.”
The morning sunlight was only just beginning to filter through the curtains on the nearest window when Stella’s rest was disturbed by the steady removal of her blanket. Sitting up blearily, she tracked the motion just as the rest of the thing fell away, and it didn’t take a genius to guess what must be under the covers. She smiled sleepily, pandiculating towards the ceiling and covering a yawn. Her thoughts were pleasant and blurry until she properly registered her surroundings, and then everything that had happened in the last day and night came crashing back down on her even as Violet exited from some other room and pulled the blanket off the cat, a large ginger-colored one.
Stella sighed and ran a hand through her hair, which she realized was extremely messy at the moment, flyaways sticking out in every direction. It didn’t especially bother her, but she couldn’t know for sure when the next time she’d actually be able to use a shower was, so she decided to take advantage. Maybe it was imposing a little, but she figured if she was going to die, the least she could do was make less of a mess for whomever was going to deal with her body afterwards.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she murmured, heading towards the open door that she assumed was the washroom. She was correct, it turned out, and grabbed a spare towel from the linen closet before shutting the door behind her. She’d slept in her contact lenses, completely forgetting bout them for once, so when she took them out now, she discarded them. There was little point in hiding anymore when she’d been so easily found, after all. With the false brown gone, her irises were a bright crimson with a thin golden ring around the center of them. She blinked at herself in the mirror for a moment, then shrugged and stepped into the water.
From the fact that it was black for the first few minutes, she knew that the dye in her hair was washing out as well, leaving it a dark aubergine color instead. With the same reasoning that had defeated her continued use of the lenses, she decided she didn’t really care. She washed it with soap until it was clean, lacking another option and not wanting to touch and of Violet’s stuff in case he was weird about that. If she took a few minutes longer than strictly necessary because she was crying, well… she put it down to the fact that knowledge of your own impending death would probably shake anyone. Maybe she could escape it, but chances were not good, and even if she did, she’d never be able to go back to her old life. So in some sense, she was dying, even now. Her aunt and uncle, the only people in the world left who actually cared about her, would think her dead, and that was for the best. If it wasn’t something to cry about, though… then nothing was.
It didn’t last long, though—she had other things to do. For want of anything else, she changed back into the clothes of the day before, though not before she had a go at washing the bloodstains out in the sink. It only sort of worked, and she was just wasting time now. She emerged from the bathroom using the towel to soak up water from the ends of her hair, then folded it neatly and set it aside. “Well… if you want, we can go now.”
Darcia watched the vehicle containing Crux leave with no discernible expression, before glancing down at the large dog on the lead she was holding. The creature waved its tail once at her, like a banner in the wind, and the corners of her lips turned upwards a little. “This one will take care of you,” she told him softly, reaching to set her hand on his head. Truthfully, given the size of the dog, as well as her own small stature, it was especially easy to walk that way, with her hand sunk into the fur of his ruff. Even a taller person should be able to manage it.
He as a white color, with just the faintest touch of grey, and looked a bit like a ghost under the illumination of nighttime, she supposed. Or at least, what she imagined a ghost would look like, if such things were real. Being a completely organic creature, he doubtless needed to eat, and so she walked them both through the facility until she came upon the kitchens. At this time of night, nobody was inside, and so when the biometrics let her through the door, she headed unimpeded for the refrigerator, which she knew from experience would occasionally contain leftover or unclaimed items.
Sorting through these, she picked out several kinds of meat product, then submitted a requisition order for dog food specifically. For now, though, the leavings of others would have to do. The dog certainly didn’t seem to complain.
The rest of her night was split between tending the gardens and cleaning the lab space, during which she also recharged beneath the solar lamp, something her new canine companion seemed to enjoy as well. She usually just did this during the day with natural sunlight, but seeing as the mission had begun after dark and would be commencing again shortly after sunrise, she felt it prudent not to leave such things to chance. She did have alternative energy systems, but none were quite as cleanly-efficient as solar power.
Thus it was that, at precisely 6:58 a.m., Darcia was in the appointed meeting spot, in possession of new equipment, a replacement suit, and fully powered. She had also entered all the data from their last mission attempt into the classified areas of the network, and updated all the files on Stella Iaret, Uno (surname, she had discovered, Summus), Lancelet Morgan, and Remullio Jackson. It was unwise to leave anything to chance. Her flesh and blood had repaired, and the cloth used to tie around her palm had been washed and sanitized, now residing in the pocket of her coat.
She preferred to leave nothing to chance if she could avoid it, after all.
Stella sighed and ran a hand through her hair, which she realized was extremely messy at the moment, flyaways sticking out in every direction. It didn’t especially bother her, but she couldn’t know for sure when the next time she’d actually be able to use a shower was, so she decided to take advantage. Maybe it was imposing a little, but she figured if she was going to die, the least she could do was make less of a mess for whomever was going to deal with her body afterwards.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she murmured, heading towards the open door that she assumed was the washroom. She was correct, it turned out, and grabbed a spare towel from the linen closet before shutting the door behind her. She’d slept in her contact lenses, completely forgetting bout them for once, so when she took them out now, she discarded them. There was little point in hiding anymore when she’d been so easily found, after all. With the false brown gone, her irises were a bright crimson with a thin golden ring around the center of them. She blinked at herself in the mirror for a moment, then shrugged and stepped into the water.
From the fact that it was black for the first few minutes, she knew that the dye in her hair was washing out as well, leaving it a dark aubergine color instead. With the same reasoning that had defeated her continued use of the lenses, she decided she didn’t really care. She washed it with soap until it was clean, lacking another option and not wanting to touch and of Violet’s stuff in case he was weird about that. If she took a few minutes longer than strictly necessary because she was crying, well… she put it down to the fact that knowledge of your own impending death would probably shake anyone. Maybe she could escape it, but chances were not good, and even if she did, she’d never be able to go back to her old life. So in some sense, she was dying, even now. Her aunt and uncle, the only people in the world left who actually cared about her, would think her dead, and that was for the best. If it wasn’t something to cry about, though… then nothing was.
It didn’t last long, though—she had other things to do. For want of anything else, she changed back into the clothes of the day before, though not before she had a go at washing the bloodstains out in the sink. It only sort of worked, and she was just wasting time now. She emerged from the bathroom using the towel to soak up water from the ends of her hair, then folded it neatly and set it aside. “Well… if you want, we can go now.”
“It was told once, that time is a fickle mistress.”
Darcia watched the vehicle containing Crux leave with no discernible expression, before glancing down at the large dog on the lead she was holding. The creature waved its tail once at her, like a banner in the wind, and the corners of her lips turned upwards a little. “This one will take care of you,” she told him softly, reaching to set her hand on his head. Truthfully, given the size of the dog, as well as her own small stature, it was especially easy to walk that way, with her hand sunk into the fur of his ruff. Even a taller person should be able to manage it.
He as a white color, with just the faintest touch of grey, and looked a bit like a ghost under the illumination of nighttime, she supposed. Or at least, what she imagined a ghost would look like, if such things were real. Being a completely organic creature, he doubtless needed to eat, and so she walked them both through the facility until she came upon the kitchens. At this time of night, nobody was inside, and so when the biometrics let her through the door, she headed unimpeded for the refrigerator, which she knew from experience would occasionally contain leftover or unclaimed items.
Sorting through these, she picked out several kinds of meat product, then submitted a requisition order for dog food specifically. For now, though, the leavings of others would have to do. The dog certainly didn’t seem to complain.
The rest of her night was split between tending the gardens and cleaning the lab space, during which she also recharged beneath the solar lamp, something her new canine companion seemed to enjoy as well. She usually just did this during the day with natural sunlight, but seeing as the mission had begun after dark and would be commencing again shortly after sunrise, she felt it prudent not to leave such things to chance. She did have alternative energy systems, but none were quite as cleanly-efficient as solar power.
Thus it was that, at precisely 6:58 a.m., Darcia was in the appointed meeting spot, in possession of new equipment, a replacement suit, and fully powered. She had also entered all the data from their last mission attempt into the classified areas of the network, and updated all the files on Stella Iaret, Uno (surname, she had discovered, Summus), Lancelet Morgan, and Remullio Jackson. It was unwise to leave anything to chance. Her flesh and blood had repaired, and the cloth used to tie around her palm had been washed and sanitized, now residing in the pocket of her coat.
She preferred to leave nothing to chance if she could avoid it, after all.