[Evelyn Winters]

Evelyn had been defeated.

It was not something she was accustomed to. It was something she vowed to never let happen again. And yet…

She spent far longer in prison than she intended. Due to her injuries against the mysterious vigilante, there wasn’t much she could do. Everytime they tried to physically restrain her, she would black out and, as she was told, go into a mindless rage, screaming and struggling to fight, despite her injuries, hurting herself more than others. It was a repeat of what happened after...him. But she’d learned since then, and she got her wits about her faster than last time.

They’d transported her back to New York, as that was where her known crimes took place. She was deemed not fit for trial and was thus not present when they gave her several life sentences. She was stuck in a wheelchair, spending a good ninety-five percent of her time in solitary. She was a bit of a celebrity after her encounter with Sunny, and there were plenty of women in maximum security looking to make a name for themselves. She would promptly break those women’s bones.

She spent a lot of time doing crosswords and oscillating between boredom and absolute horror. It had been a long time since she’d had panic attacks and flashbacks as vivid as the ones she experienced after her defeat. The guards were not sympathetic to her struggles. In fact, they liked to exacerbate things, as long as they didn’t get too close to her. Even in her injured state, she was still a formidable opponent.

Worst of all, though, Axel was gone. As much as she pleaded for him to come back, he wouldn’t return. She was alone.

She was alone.

Well, maybe not completely alone. It took months for her injuries to heal, but they did eventually. After her difficult but inevitable escape - raiding the station to recover her prosthetic limbs - she returned to her trailer in the woods to find Cat sleeping on top of a taxidermied squirrel. If he had the ability or was of nature to do so, he would have looked happy to see her. Instead, he simply hopped down, rubbed up against her legs, and took his place back on the squirrel. This small gesture made her feel better, but nowhere near anywhere close to good.

Lost and empty, Evelyn wandered into the city. Previously, she would look at everyone like a predator looking at prey. Now, she felt horribly...normal. They could be defeated, but so could she. It was an awful feeling. It was not pleasant to be grounded after so many years in the air. Something deep and heavy was setting in her chest. It hurt. Her brother may have turned toward drugs for the high, for the rush. But Evelyn needed to drown.

In short, she needed a drink.

The world was heavy, numb, and gray, and it continued to smother her as she entered the nearest bar she could find. It seemed oddly, strikingly familiar, but she couldn’t point a finger on why. Had she been here before? Her mind was too cluttered to think about it. She sat down at the bar, hood hiding her face, and ordered the strongest thing they had. They gave it to her. She chugged it, liquor running down her mouth, on to her neck. After that, she ordered another and another and another and another. Until her face was red and the numbness didn’t hurt so much anymore.

Sonnet Matsuda

[Sonnet Matsuda]

Shortcut My childhood spat back out the monster that you see + Evelyn Winters

Sonnet didn't frequent this bar much, she never had, but she'd avoided it more since she'd run into the strange woman with the scarred face. It was on her racket, so she knew no one here would dare turn her in, but there was always a chance that some regular might decide it was worth phoning in the presence of a known criminal. People had been killed, and Sonnet showing her face in there too soon afterwards would have been asking for trouble, someone would have recognised her and called the cops. The fact that she hadn't actually killed anyone would hardly register, though she had been complicit in the death of the aerokinetic who had showed up looking for Evelyn. They'd made a deal after that, Sonnet and the scarred woman. Evelyn would intimidate a city official, in return Sonnet would keep her ear to the ground about the Glasgowman. She'd done so, and even turned up some pretty interesting stuff. Before she'd been able to pass on said interesting information however, Evelyn had appeared again, this time on the news. She'd gone against a Hero, Gravity Girl, the one in the stupid pink outfit and taken her down. It was impressive, but Evelyn had taken the lives of several innocent people in the process. Her victory had not been without cost. Now with an interest, Sonnet had kept an eye on things, until she heard that Evelyn had surfaced in San Francisco. Maybe she'd been looking to take down the big hitter of the Hero Program, Paladin. Maybe she'd just been trying to avoid the media and police attention that had come as a result of her confrontation with Gravity Girl. Either way, it seemed that San Francisco had been a mistake. Evelyn hadn't even managed to find Paladin before she'd had her ass handed to her. Nobody knew who had done it but what little Sonnet had managed to glean from her contacts over there suggested it had been one of the few vigilantes still operating. She'd forgotten her after that. She'd repay her favour one day, but it certainly wasn't a favour that would earn Evelyn rescue from prison. She'd forgotten her, that is, until she'd walked into the bar Sonnet was drinking in. Wanting privacy, Sonnet had taken a bottle of whiskey from the bar and retreated to a corner booth to drink alone, as she usually did. At least it wasn't in her apartment, there was an atmosphere of socialisation here. The scarred figure in the hoodie stayed at the bar, ordering one glass after another and downing them each in short order. Sitting up slightly, Sonnet gestured to the barkeeper. With a glance towards Evelyn, who was already putting away what might have been her eighth glass, the girl came over. Sonnet scribbled a note on a napkin, then handed it to a girl with instructions. "Get her a bottle of whatever that is, then give her this." She'd folded the paper tissue, confident the girl wouldn't unfold it to read what was on it. Her eyes followed the girl back to the bar before she realised what she was doing and dropped them back to her glass. She looked up again in time to see the bottle and napkin being handed over. I don't like owing people. The girl gestured towards the corner that held Sonnet as Evelyn read the note, before focusing on her other customers.

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[Evelyn Winters]

She felt warm. It was weird. Back when Axel was alive, they both worked on increasing their alcohol tolerance. It was much easier to manipulate someone when they were drunk and you were not. They would work up in increments - one bottle, two bottles, three bottles, four - going up a step everytime they could drink without feeling the effects. Axel, of course, as he got older, loved getting absolutely shit faced, and would drink to the verge of alcohol poisoning. Evelyn had stopped drinking regularly when she went off to college. She was certainly feeling the consequences of her time away from the drink.

The world was strange and blurry. Her head felt mushy. But at least the pain had subsided. For the most part. She looked down at her hand and felt a pang in the pit of her stomach as she saw the twisted scar mangling her flesh. She tilted her head up and downed the rest of her glass, slamming it on the bar. ”Another!” She slurred loudly, melting into the bar, unaware of the volume of her voice.

She lifted her head curiously as, instead of being handed a glass, the bartender put an entire bottle in front of her. She grabbed it, inspecting the liquid inside as if it contained a secret message she needed to decode. It took her a moment and a pointed throat clear from the bartender to notice that she was actually being handed a secret message. She opened the napkin, bringing it close to the face and squinting. It was difficult to read - the words blurring and melding into each other - but she got it eventually. I don’t like owing people. What did that mean?

Finally she saw the bartender gesture to the corner of the bar. She saw a woman sitting there. It took her a moment, the world blurry as it was, but eventually, she recognized her. ”Sonnet!” She said, a stupid look on her face, eyes heavy, scarred cheeks a rosy red. She got up from the stool, bottle in her hand, and immediately fell to the ground. With a grunt, she stood up again and stumbled her way to the table Sonnet was sitting at, practically falling into the seat. ”Heyyy. Haven’t seen you in a while.” She slurred, breath reeking of alcohol.

Sonnet Matsuda

[Sonnet Matsuda]

Shortcut My childhood spat back out the monster that you see + Evelyn Winters

Sonnet's jaw nearly dropped. Evelyn had turned on her stool, left it and then promptly fallen over. The last time Sonnet had seen her the woman had been swift and graceful. She'd moved with precision. Now she was stumbling about, clearly drunk beyond her capacity to cope with the alcohol. It was like meeting a different person, and Sonnet was finding herself regretting calling the woman's attention to her. She'd have to make sure to help her finish that bottle. Much of Sonnet's ability to hold her drink was thanks to her power, but she'd been a seasoned drinker even before the Event. Eventually Evelyn managed to stagger her way to the table Sonnet was seated at, having attracted the attention of everyone else in the bar. Eventually people lost interest, the last few individuals finally turning away once Sonnet's glare fastened upon them. She looked back at her new companion, pulling the bottle from her grip before gesturing to the bartender to bring two glasses. With a clink, she poured the alcohol into the two vessels, leaving considerably more in her own than in Evelyn's. Her ability seemed to harden her against alcohol poisoning, she wasn't so sure about Evelyn's chances of that. "No, you haven't." The stench of booze nearly knocked her over. She made a note to keep as much of the alcohol from Evelyn as possible. She was feeling the buzz herself, but in the way that the average person might feel it after a few beers. She'd have had no problems walking in a straight line or even driving at this point. She wouldn't have trusted Evelyn walking home, let alone in a car, which meant that now she was virtually responsible for the woman, especially since she had apparently enabled what would come next. She took a swig from her glass. It wasn't good booze, it was just strong. The kind of stuff Sonnet drank when she was really looking to be drunk. It took too much for her to get drunk for her to throw money away on actual good alcohol. She poured herself another glass, as much of it as she could, trying to empty the bottle before Evelyn got her hands on it again. "You left town, heard you ran into some trouble in San Francisco. Taking things easy now?" There was a certain sardonic irony in Sonnet's voice as she uttered the words.

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[Evelyn Winters]

Ignorant of the looks she was garnering from the other attendees at the bar, Evelyn quickly made herself comfortable at the booth, resting her body on the table, feeling unable to support her own weight. ”Hey.” She protested weakly as Sonnet took the bottle from her hand. ”That’s mine.” Feeling uncomfortable draped across the table, she sat up, sending her head spinning. ”Woah.” She muttered, putting her hand on her forehead as she leaned against the wall.

Evelyn grabbed the glass that Sonnet had poured for her, studying it carefully. She noticed that Sonnet had put considerably more alcohol in her own glass than in Evelyn’s. ”’S not fair.” She said into her drink before bringing it up to her lips and downing it in two healthy gulps. She slammed the glass on the table. ”More!” She demanded, her chin wet with alcohol.

When Sonnet mentioned San Francisco, she again felt that sting of pain. She desperately wished Sonnet had given her more booze. She sighed, big and hefty, the heavy scent of alcohol emanating from her mouth. “Mmm, San Fran.” She nodded with an air of melancholy. “Got fucked there, real fucked.” She shook her head, feeling a lump in her throat. Her nose starting filling up with snot. She sniffed and wiped her nose. ”I learned something though.” She sniffed again. ”Learned something very, very important.” She looked back at Sonnet with sad eyes and a smile on her face. ”There’s a reason I’m trying to drown myself.”

She let out a heavy sigh and leaned her head back against the wall, looking around the bar. It did look very, very familiar. ”Hey,” she said, ”isn’t this where we had that big fight?” She let out a drunken snicker. ”Weird how that works.” She looked back at Sonnet. ”I did that thing by the way, you still need to give me...whatever I asked for. I dunno.” She slid back onto the table and looked up at Sonnet. “You got a funny voice, you know that?”

Sonnet Matsuda

[Sonnet Matsuda]

Shortcut My childhood spat back out the monster that you see + Evelyn Winters

Several other drinkers were staring in their direction now, their gazes attracted by Evelyn's loud slurred speech and her clear intoxication. Those gazes were promptly snuffed out once they met Sonnet's hard eyed gaze. Every drinker found something more interesting in the bottom of their glass or the walls once they met that flat glare. Sonnet didn't blame them. There was a certain code amongst habitual drinkers, you didn't take any more interest in the actions of a drunk than was necessary. Evelyn was clearly not handling the booze well, more of it seemed to be on her face than had gone down her gullet. Maybe it was safe to pour her more of the whiskey, but Sonnet was loathe to pour more of that expensive liquid onto the floor. That was effectively where it would end up going after she drank it anyway. Sonnet's high power metabolism meant she was usually around to see the aftermath of a serious drinking session, she would be surprised if most of the contents of Evelyn's stomach didn't end up on the floor. Sonnet poured herself another quadruple measure of the whiskey. Ignoring Evelyn's protests, she dropped a double into the other woman's glass. She'd have to keep her at least a little happy, denying her booze entirely wouldn't work, but keeping the level down might slow her down a little. "You keep up with me and I might pour you the same amount." She shrugged, "Don’t worry, I pay my debts." She took a sip of the whiskey, though any normal drinker would have called it more of a gulp. It was an easy drink, she barely even noticed the burn any more, so accustomed was she to the experience. She watched Evelyn instead. The woman's red face, un-coordinated movements and glazed vision betrayed the damage the booze had already wrought. She wouldn't be able to take much more before she collapsed. Her jaw tightened at the comment about her voice. It was hoarse, rasping, a permanent condition that resulted from the knotted and ugly scar across her throat. She'd killed the man who'd given her that scar. She wondered whether Evelyn had done the same for the man who had given her scars to her. "Yeah, I know that." She refilled her own glass, clinking it against the table as she tilted her head. "So, what did you learn in San Francisco?"

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[Evelyn Winters]

Evelyn was, of course, oblivious to that stares of the other patrons. She was oblivious to a lot of things at the moment. All that she was aware of were herself, the booth, Sonnet, and the booze. Thus, she was a bit confused by Sonnet’s glare. Was someone doing something she didn’t like? She looked around the bar, but found no answers. Just people doing...stuff. ”Whadder you lookin at?” She slurred, returning her gaze to Sonnet.

Evelyn hummed, happy, as Sonnet poured more alcohol into her glass. She brought it up to her lips and slurped loudly but slowly. She needed to make this whiskey last. Lord knew she needed it, and she wasn’t confident in Sonnet’s ability to give it to her when she wanted it. That was until Sonnet said she’d give her more if she kept up with her. Was this a race? Did she have to drink faster than Sonnet? Easy. She tilted her head back and downed the rest of the drink, slamming it on the table once again. ”I win.” She announced proudly.

”Pay your debts?” She was confused for a moment. Why did she say that? What debts was she paying. Then she realized. ”Oh, my debts. For me. You have debts for me.” She said. ”You can pay ‘em in booze.” She wiggled the empty glass in front of her. ”There’s nothing else I want. I just want booze. I want booze until I die.” She said. ”I wanna drown to death.”

She snorted. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” That pang again, deeper and harsher. She tilted the empty cup into her mouth, downing the sparse drops of whiskey at the bottom before putting it down again. ”You know, my brother died like this. But with other drugs, not booze. Heroin and shit. I used to talk to him, but he doesn’t show up anymore.” Her eyes started to fill with tears. ”I lost him again and it’s all my fault.”

Sonnet Matsuda

[Sonnet Matsuda]

Shortcut My childhood spat back out the monster that you see + Evelyn Winters

Humility seemed to be the answer to Sonnet's question. The pathetic heap of drunken flesh huddled opposite Sonnet couldn't be further from the arrogant, foolish woman that Sonnet had first met. She might have been clever enough to take on a wannabe Hero like Gravity Girl, but she'd been taught a sharp lesson by a metahuman who actually knew how to use the power they had been granted. Sonnet listened quietly as Evelyn spoke, the other woman beginning to tear up at her own words. Sonnet was good at this. She had never been one for speeches anyway, but ever since her own injury she'd avoided speech even more. The misshapen scar at her throat worked as more of the whiskey flowed down her throat. She reached out for the bottle, still firmly on her side of the table, and poured another glass for herself and a smaller one for Evelyn. At least the brother explained the strange bursts of gibberish the brunette had thrown out from time to time. If she'd been hallucinating a lost member of her family maybe she had been speaking to him in a second language. The thought made Sonnet melancholy. Would she have endured the apparent stigma of insanity to spend more time with her father? She sips the whiskey again, "When you're like us you lose people." It was part of the life they led. Just one of the many risks. "An overdose isn't your fault. Did you fill the needle? Stick it into his veins?" Sonnet may run rackets for the Yakuza, but she also runs most of the dealers in this part of New York. Like many of the things she does, it has begun to weigh heavily upon her conscience, as if it is a cloth now so filled with liquid it can hold no more guilt. She leaned forwards. "He did it to himself. I know that doesn't make things any easier, but if he was anything like you I bet that stopping him would have been impossible anyway."

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[Evelyn Winters]

Evelyn nodded. People like us. Before San Francisco, there had only been two “people like us” - Evelyn and Axel. They were two of a kind. They were greater than everyone. They were special and important and nothing could defeat them (the very unique and specific heterochromia the two shared only enforced this notion). Even when drugs defeated Axel, and the Glasgowman defeated Evelyn, she still held onto the notion that they were these superior beings, and yes, while they were supremely intelligent and capable, people were greater than them, people could defeat them, and that was something she was still trying to process.

”I could have stopped him.” She said. ”I knew he was doing all those drugs and I just let him because I thought….I thought we were immortal. But we’re not. Look at me.” She rolled up her sleeves, revealing the scars that covered her skin. ”The fucking bastard who did this. I didn’t even get him back. I’m a fucking failure. I’m a fucking failure. I’m a fucking! Failure!” She slammed her fist down on the table, then let out a strained giggle. ”Just look at me, all fucking emotional. I haven’t been like this since Axel.” She downed the miniscule drink Sonnet had provided her.

She looked angrily at Sonnet. ”I could have stopped him. I could have fucking knocked him out and locked him in a room and made sure nothing would ever hurt him ever.” She shrugged. ”I’d do it if I could. He wouldn’t be happy, but he’d be safe, and I would never lose him. Then all this wouldn’t have happened. I’d still have my fingers,” she waved around her robotic prosthetics, ”my toes, my skin, my leg.” She waved a wobbly hand in front of her. ”But all of that’s gone now. And I can’t ever get it back.”

She looked curiously at Sonnet. ”You’re bein’ really nice right now, you know that?” She said. ”Why is that? Last time you were really mean. I think. Were you?” She tried recalling their last encounter, but found her memory quite a bit foggier than usual. ”Yeah, you were, we fought." She said, nodding. ”But now you’re nice.” She slumped back on the table. ”I like you better nice.”

Sonnet Matsuda

[Sonnet Matsuda]

Shortcut My childhood spat back out the monster that you see + Evelyn Winters

"Someone knocked you out and locked you in a room where no one could ever hurt you. And here you are anyway." Shrugging, Sonnet sipped at the whiskey again, the faint buzz she'd been nursing for several hours finally growing to something more pleasing. "Prison didn't work on you, do you really think it would have worked on your brother?" She wasn't expecting an answer, Evelyn was clearly pretty far gone, the alcohol having already done its damage, and more. Now she was talking about Sonnet being nice. The older woman rolled her eyes. If there was one thing Sonnet didn't do, it was nice. Yet she was. Sort of. She'd bought the woman a drink, several in fact, judging by how quickly the level in the bottle was dropping. The glass clinked as she poured two more drinks, only half-listening to what Evelyn was saying. They would be the last two drinks as she set down the empty bottle. Her last encounter with Evelyn had been decidedly violent, now she was treating her to a drink like she was an old friend. Things had changed a great deal. Her eyes flickered strangely in the light, as the face of a man flashed through her mind. Dark eyes, stubble on the chin, a gun pressed to his forehead. The shadow passed, and she forced her attention back to Evelyn. "Well that's good to know." She wasn't sure how she felt about the woman's words. On the one hand, she was clearly drunk. On the other, people were usually more honest when they were drunk. She wasn't the kind of person people called nice, and truly she didn't think of herself as nice either. Huge, innocent eyes, confused, curious, not really afraid. No, she'd done too much to really be nice. "There's no point dwelling on the past Evelyn." The words were almost more for her than for the scarred woman, "All you can do is affect the present." It felt like a stupid, pointless thing to say. That's what she'd said to the priest when he'd said it to her, yet here she was passing it on like precious drops of wisdom. She caught herself in the strangely introspective moment, snapping herself out of it by throwing what was left of the whiskey down her throat before slamming the glass back onto the table. "I'm not nice Evelyn, I'm just trying to be better." She stood up, pulling on her jacket. "Now come on, you can't stay here all night."

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[Evelyn Winters]

Locked her in a box? Who locked her in a box? When did that happen? ”Oooooh.” Her confusion melted away as Sonnet brought up prison. That was the box she was talking about. Evelyn let out a long, drunken hum. Sonnet had a point, she supposed. But Axel never got fucked in the head like she did. He didn’t go through months of torture. The doctors called it PTSD. But to her, it was just another wound that never healed, only mental instead of physical, and time away from stimulation only made that wound fester.

Evelyn nodded. ”I’ve never been nice.” She said. ”Maybe to Axel and Cat, but I always thought nice was for the weak, and I’m not weak.” She said. ”At least, I wasn’t.” She swirled around the liquor in her glass. She appeared to be deep in thought, but there weren’t many thoughts going through her head. Everything was messy, muddled, numb. She supposed that was what she was looking for. She wasn’t sure whether or not she liked it.

She snickered. ”You sound like a fortune cookie.” She furrowed her brow. ”Is that racist?” She thought for a moment, then shrugged. ”Eh, who cares? Racist shmacist. Being racist isn’t the worst thing I’ve done.” She swallowed the rest of her liquor, and looked sadly at the empty bottle. She picked it up, studying it. ”Aw, no more.” She lamented. With one swift motion, she smashed the bottle on the ground. It shattered into a bunch of little pieces. This drew the attention of the entire bar, but Evelyn was oblivious to the shock and stares of the other patrons. She let loose a little laugh, admiring the light that reflected off the shards.

In the excitement of destroying the bottle, she didn’t notice Sonnet had stood up. She was confused when she didn’t see the other woman sitting across from her. She looked around to see her putting on her jacket. ”I could…” But she didn’t want to. She wanted to be with Sonnet. Sonnet was being nice to her (no matter what she said to the contrary), and she hadn’t had someone be nice to her in a long, long time. It felt good. She got up, stumbling, almost falling face first into the shards of glass that littered the ground. ”Let’s go.” She slurred. Instinctively, she put an arm around Sonnet’s shoulders to steady herself as she walked.

Sonnet Matsuda

[Sonnet Matsuda]

Shortcut My childhood spat back out the monster that you see + Evelyn Winters

It was, it would have been racist towards anyone from China, what made it even worse was the fact that Sonnet was actually Japanese. Sonnet ignored the comment anyway. That in itself was out of character, it wouldn't be the first time someone had thrown a racial or gender-based slur at her. She couldn't explain why she hadn't immediately slammed Evelyn's face off the table, instead waiting patiently while the considerably more drunken woman stood up. Maybe it was the buzz. That same buzz was probably why she smirked and rolled her eyes as the bottle shattered on the ground. The ground turned to stare, though Evelyn either didn't notice, or didn't care. Judging by her level of intoxication, it was more likely to be the former. That particular level of buzz meant she was probably going to have trouble standing, let alone walking. Sonnet's prediction proved accurate as Evelyn almost immediately tipped forward towards the ground, stumbling until she managed to regain some semblance of balance. Narrowly avoiding a sliced open palm from the glass on the floor, she turned and put an arm around Sonnet's shoulders instead, leaning heavily on the shorter woman. For a fraction of a second Sonnet stiffened at the contact, before her own buzz mellowed out her muscles. She supported the younger woman towards the door, picking her way carefully around the shattered glass, these were five hundred dollar boots after all. It took a moment's navigation to get them past the steps at the entrance of the bar. Sonnet didn't realise until they were out of the dingy space that she had unconsciously shifted, drawing the other woman closer. It made sense for getting up and down steps for some this drunk, a greater point of contact, but one that was no longer necessary on the relatively flat streets. She didn't move away though, some part of her keeping her closer to the rangy woman. "I don't know where you live, and somehow I doubt you're in any state to tell me. So we'll go back to mine." Normally Sonnet's night would have continued for several hours yet, but Evelyn couldn't walk unsupported and Sonnet couldn't exactly babysit her all the way around town. She wasn't particularly excited about taking the girl home either, but it seemed the only real solution, and she seemed to have landed herself with the responsibility. Raising a hand, she attracted the attention of a taxi.

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[Evelyn Winters]

Evelyn leaned into Sonnet. She was quite a bit shorter than Evelyn, but she was strong, sturdy. Evelyn could feel the lean, solid muscles supporting her weight. This was strange. Evelyn hadn’t had any positive human contact since Axel. That was so, so long ago. The thought almost made her tear up again. The alcohol, however, numbed the pain, and she was able to focus on the present, however twisted and distorted that may be.

”You’re comfy,” she muttered as Sonnet accepted her weight even further. Surprisingly comfy. Sonnet certainly didn’t look comfy. She looked sharp. That was the best she could describe it in her inebriated state, sharp. Yet her flesh didn’t pierce Evelyn’s. Instead, it accepted Evelyn as if they were two pieces of a puzzle. Again, it reminded her of Axel. Was this how it was for most people? ”Are people like puzzles?” she asked, not thinking the question required any further explanation.

She didn’t realize they were out of the bar until she felt the cold wind stinging her face. ”Live?” she asked. ”I live in the woods with Cat. You should meet him, he won’t like you, but he doesn’t like anyone.” She tilted her head to the side. ”Well, he likes me, but I’m special to him. He’s the only thing I’m special to.” She let out a hefty, alcohol tinged sigh. ”Yeah, let’s go to your’s. I want to keep being with you,” she said without thinking.

Very quickly, a cab noticed Sonnet’s raised hand and pulled over to the curb. Sonnet led Evelyn inside. The world spun as she sat down a little too quickly, but she quickly centered herself. ”Wait,” she said, ”can’t you just teleport? Why are we taking a cab?” A sudden realization hit her. ”Ooh, is it because I’ll vomit? You don’ need to worry about that I’m not gonna vomit, I can hold my-” She suddenly felt her stomach lurch. She swung open the door of the cab and let loose the contents of her stomach on the pavement, most of which was just alcohol. She closed the door and wiped her mouth. ”Okay, I see your point. Let’s take the cab.”

Sonnet Matsuda

[Sonnet Matsuda]

Shortcut My childhood spat back out the monster that you see + Evelyn Winters

The cab driver was about to pull away when Sonnet waved a hundred-dollar bill at him. He hesitated, greed warring with concern for the upholstery of his cab. Greed won out, and he kept the cab stationary while Sonnet carefully stashed Evelyn in one side of it. She didn't comment on the vomit, it hadn't been the reason she was avoiding teleportation anyway. Her metabolism powered her ability, using it burned it harder than it did already, including anything it was processing. It was great if she needed to sober up quickly, not so great if she wanted to stay drunk. Instead she tired not to think too much about Evelyn's earlier words. I want to keep being with you. She didn't like the implication of those words; it made her chest hurt. She climbed in easily, her steady movements betraying none of the buzz she had been nursing for the last few hours. It was there though, and she knew the whiskey she had drunk at the last bar would kick in soon enough. Hopefully it would alleviate some of the strange feelings she was battling in this moment. She gave the driver her address, not particularly concerned about Evelyn hearing. Perhaps that whiskey was already having an effect, perhaps it didn't matter. There was a good chance the woman would remember precisely nothing of tonight. The driver gave the clearly intoxicated Evelyn another warning look, clearly not looking forward to potentially having to swab out his car, hundred bucks or not. He tossed a brown paper bag over the back of the seat. Sonnet had moved across when she'd gotten into the car, letting her keep the unsteady Evelyn upright by wedging her between her own body and the door. She is awfully aware of the closeness of their contact and disguises this awkwardness by unfolding the paper bag and placing it on Evelyn's lap should she need it. The cab driver doesn't talk, merely pulling out into traffic on their way downtown. The cab, meanwhile, is silent. Sonnet doesn't talk, too busy struggling with her own confusing thoughts at this point. It wouldn't be the first point she has taken someone home, to her home. But never a woman. It wouldn't have bothered her had it not been for the other strange emotions, thoughts and actions that had risen, unbidden, throughout the night. She shifts slightly, unconsciously in her discomfort, the side of her leg presses against Evelyn's. She doesn't notice the awful proximity until the cab pulls to a halt outside of her apartment building. She pulls sharply away from Evelyn as she leans over to pay the driver, throwing the hundred dollars at him and telling him to keep the change. "Come on, you need water, and bed."

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[Evelyn Winters]

Evelyn had never gotten car sick before. She’d always prided herself on having a stomach of steel. The only time she’d ever vomited was when she got sick (or when she was punched in the stomach by you-know-who and his goons, but she didn’t think about that, not now, not ever). All the shit and piss and gore in the world would never stir a reaction in her. Swinging through the branches of the trees that populated the forest surrounding the mansion she and Axel lived in when they were young thirty feet off the ground affected her just as little. So it was strange as she felt her stomach moving with the movement of the car. She grabbed the paper bag and stared into it intensely, trying to make the world stay still.

It took her a moment to realize that Sonnet was pressed tightly against her. There was a time not too long ago where Evelyn would flinch violently away from human touch, where every skin-on-skin contact felt like a burn. Now...it was different. The warmth didn’t burn her; instead, it was comforting. She liked it, but she couldn’t vocalize it at the moment. She was worried if she opened her mouth that vomit might spill out instead of words.

Evelyn frowned as Sonnet pulled away from her. Her body was so comfy - the aforementioned piece to her puzzle. ”Where’re you going?” she slurred, careful not to open her mouth too much. She looked around. They had stopped. She looked out the window to see an apartment building. That was right. They were going to Sonnet’s place. For some reason she expected some place dirtier. She didn’t know why. Perhaps their previous interaction had colored her perception of where Sonnet was willing to live.

With difficulty, she scooted out of the cab, still holding the paper bag which, fortunately, had remained empty. Water sounded good. And so did a bed. She needed to lay down, but suddenly the thought filled her with dread as she remembered Axel’s death. He was laying down when he died, vomit filling his throat. That would not happen to her. ”Okay, but I’m not laying down,” she said with gravity as she followed Sonnet into her apartment.

Sonnet Matsuda