A panfandom roleplay

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023 ♕ [voice/action]
| I'm surrounded by grade A morons
loisfuckinglane wrote in paradisa
[An entire day has passed between Isis' defeat and anyone other than Clark and the Doctor, who volunteered her the use of the Zero Room to recover, seeing or hearing anything from Lois Lane.   Clark's given her the story by now, on top of which she's coping with her sudden return to Paradisa after what's been, for her, a year and a half away from this place.  

She's read every word in the journals about what happened.  Listened to every unfiltered conversation.

Including everything that was filtered away from Isis, but not Lois Lane.

She's gotten to hear close friends discussing whether to kill her if it was necessary.  She's gotten to relive the panic of residents when they found out their loved ones were taken.  She's soaked up every word, sometimes more than once.

paid her respects to the dead.

And only now does she feel like she can't put off addressing the local population anymore - now that she knows the full extent of what occurred.   More than anything, she sounds tired, the usual earnestness in her voice dampened by all the guilt weighing down on her.  First Carter Hall, now all these people... and at her own hand, more or less.]

[Current Residents]

Normally, this would be the point where someone comes on over the journals post-loss and does the whole "I'm sorry" song and dance.  Asks people to forgive him or her for their weird behavior, tries to mend bridges burned, that kind of thing.

But I already know that no amount of sorrys in the world are gonna cover what happened.

For those who don't know, I'm Lois Lane, apparently favored vessel for a psychotic goddess who thought she was Dr. Frankenstein.  Before you ask, I don't remember... any of it, but I've been told plenty, and I've read even more.   The damage Isis did in my own world was on the low end by comparison... and more importantly, nobody died that time around.  

I think the hardest part is knowing that I wasn't even here to help all of you bring the bitch down.

... I don't meet a lot of things I don't know how to fight.  I'm used to facing things head on.  But it seems to be something becoming more and more frequent in my life.  [There's a brief pause and then she plows on]  I feel like it'd be ungrateful to those who died to waste away in guilt over what happened.   A lot of people put their lives on the line trying to find a way to end this that would keep me safe at the same time, and if they hadn't done that, then maybe--

Well, there's really no point speculating.  Either way, I owe every one of you a thank you.

I'm sure there's a lot more for me to catch up on from when I was checked out, and I know that I promised you all an updated report before I left.  You'll still get one, but you should know it's been over a year for me since I was last here.  A lot's happened...

... and I need to give myself a refresher on all the notes I left behind.  

If there's anything I can do...   

[She trails off, and after a moment, closes the journal, taking a deep breath, and leaning back in her chair, eyes closed.  

She's in her room if anyone wants to drop by.]

You're welcome.

[ Bruce is probably the least comforting person ever, but... He wants to make sure she really will be okay. If it weren't for the fact he's pretty sure Clark's going to be clinging to her for the next decade, he'd go over and visit, give her some files. Speaking of which... ]

I've got notes on what you've missed and when you're in need of work, there's some things I'm going to need a second opinion on.

[Bruce, you have no idea how much she appreciates you just skipping right to business.]

Looks like I left the detective work in good hands.

What kinds of things?

Thing about being possessed is, you can't always fight it. A higher power makes you its bitch and there's not a thing you can do. You might not even remember it happening.

Doesn't stop you from feeling guilty, though, does it?

[...yeah, totally speaking from experience, here.]

Guilt's not about to bring them back any faster.

[Max is torn on this one. Because a) she lost a friend, b) Isis was a bitch, and c) she destroyed her bike. She considers C the most important at the moment because dwelling on the dead isn't going to do her any good, and she's dealt with bitches before. C is something Lois can do something about. SO.]

You any good with a socket wrench?

I'm not clueless around one, if that's what you wondered.

... What did she do?

[It's a good thing he doesn't remember using the journal when he ran into her. He's not big on apologies.]

Time really flies.

I think it's actually been... a year and a half?

But it's strange, it half feels like waking up from a dream, like it all happened in a moment. Or maybe not at all.

[He's not going to say anything in the journal, because that's impersonal and she deserves more than that.

So hi, Lois, you have a demon at your door. And he's brought you booze, because in Crowley-World, booze is the answer to all life's problems

[She's surprised for a moment when she opens the door, but then... not at all actually. She gives a half-hearted smile and extends a hand for the bottle.]

One good turn deserves another, huh?

You can come in.

[Neal isn't much for words right now, and he wasn't involved at all either. But he knows so few people at this point that Lois is close enough to consider a friend. The words still aren't working, however, so have a sketch instead.

Just the edges of a riverbank which may or many not have been featured in a famous piece of art, but he's letting his pen do the walking right now. There's also a tree.]

[Lois is more than a little surprised when that shows up, but it brings a little smile to her face.]

You've got a talented pen.

[She actually hadn't been reading the journals. After the remarks she left yesterday, she'd spent the better of her time over the past day actually visiting people, inviting them to what she knew Sam would've wanted. Two-week turnaround time or not.

Now, she just had to find one last person to invite to her efforts. It definitely had turned into one of those times where you leave the hardest thing for last. Still, leaving it for last just meant that she wouldn't back down from it. She checked a few places, before finally realizing that Lois was probably braver than most and wasn't hiding out in Clark's room. So, with resolve in her heart and a packet of tissues tucked into her back pocket, she went to knock on Lois' door.]

[Lois glances up when she hears the knock, and there's that part of her that doesn't want to answer it for anyone. But she won't hide from this, and that was part of making the general announcement. Squaring her shoulders, she gets up and yanks it open.]

... hey. [She's not sure whether is unexpected or... something she should have expected.]

[She doesn't know her really. She was just a name before everything started. But that doesn't matter]

I'm glad you're all right.


[Oh, the awkward.]

You're not one of the people I threw around when I was all Egyptian Gladiator, are you?

[there is some shaky handwriting appearing. It's only going to be writing, but the words are quite sincere.]

'while it is true that apologizing for what happened....is hard to do...I am happy that you are taking responsibility for Isis's actions, even if they were...not truly your own. many people...would put the blame on....something else. you have not. thank you, Lois Lane.'

The only person worth really blaming is one who hopefully won't bother any of us ever again.

You're welcome.

[A sigh, followed by a deep, grave voice, laden with memory.]

It happens. You aren't the first, and I'm sure you won't be the last. ...It looks like you're dealing better than most, at least.

Curling up and weeping about it for a month isn't going to help anybody.

Okay, so... Just so we're clear? You don't remember anything?

[Jono recognizes the voice, and his hackles raise for a moment, before hearing the regret, the sadness in it. He listens quietly to her message, actually believing she was possessed, having seen what he had. Though he himself is still grieving, and probably not equipped to say anything, he does anyway.]

{I...uhh...I've gotta admit, i's not easy hearin' yer voice after all tha's happened. 'Specially considerin' you don' know me from Adam...}

[He pauses, still working out what he wants to say.]

{Name's Jonothan Starsmore. I'm th' bloke Isis picked t'bring 'er dead lover back from th' dead. In retrospect, I was th' best an' worst bloke she coulda hoped for.}

[Another pause. You might even hear a muffled sob in there somewhere. He such a drama queen ;_;]

{Anyway...I know it wasn' th' real you doin' all that's been done. Yer welcome...I suppose...}

Clark told me... sort of what happened.

It was heroic of you to do what you did.

I have difficulty believing in the concept of goddess possessions, even after everything I have witnessed this past week.

However, if this really did happen, then rationally speaking, there is nothing to apologize for.

I know. But saying nothing doesn't feel right either.

[Oh awesome, one less person to keep an eye on regarding the whole alien thing \o/]

It is good you're unharmed.

[dictated. it comes out awkward, but earnest.]

Hey, I ... I know you don't know me, but.

Thanks. For the honesty.

It's the least I can give people after all this.


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