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Syd(ney) Barrett ([info]_donttouch) wrote,
@ 2017-04-06 19:48:00

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[log 2] Syd/David

The days went by fast, too fast. But there were tactics to discuss and work to put in, all things that took up time. Sydney had put her two cents in, brash as it might have been in comparison to everyone else's thoughtful plans, and then took off. Now it was time for personal work of her own.

She had been thinking about it since their conversation, contemplating the logistics and possible horrible effects of what might happen were she wrong about this idea. It might even be worse than the first time she and David switched bodies; he was so much more powerful now. And while he knew it, was aware of it, she still didn't think that she herself was strong enough to keep everything in check if they did switch. And she didn't think her conscience could take another murder -- no matter how accidental it was. Especially not of these people. They had already seen enough loss. She had seen enough loss.

She often wondered whether David would have been able to suss out the Shadow King earlier, had she not accidentally killed Lenny and leave her to be a hallucination in his mind. Or would it have simply taken another form, another person to confuse him?

Enough of those thoughts, Sydney, she mentally chastised herself. If they could hold on to scarves together, then they could do this. Resolve found, she wound her way toward David's dorm before she lost her nerve. David wasn't there, at least she was pretty sure that he wasn't; it was odd, but she swore that she could sometimes feel him around. It was easy to find him, though whether that was part of some weird connection or by merely knowing him, Syd wasn't sure. It wasn't like she had that particular link with anyone else she had switched with. Perspective and empathy, sure. But an actual possible link? Maybe it was because she entered his headspace. It was a question she would have to ask the others, whether they had the same feeling.

Entering his room, she looked around and grabbed the closest piece of clothing that she could find, a jacket. The theft was quick, partially because that was how a theft should be and partially because she wanted to find out what would happen as soon as possible. Her fingers snuck out of their protective cover of long sleeves, gingerly touching the fabric of the jacket with eyes half squinted shut. Eyes still squinted, she threw the jacket on one shoulder then the other, and then looked around wide-eyed to see what had happened.

Those wide eyes looked down first thing, seeking out -- yup. Still had boobs. Releasing a sigh of relief, Syd cozied up in the jacket, zipping it up halfway. It was bigger than her normal size, which was nice. Safe. More room between others' skin and her own. And it smelled like him! Like a little kid, Sydney wiggled around in the fabric happily and then turned around to leave and go about her day.


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[info]xgene
2017-04-10 01:43 pm UTC (link)
Division 3 helped as much as they hurt. It'd been like trying to hit a mosquito with a sledgehammer, all raw power with no good way of being utilized for the specific target. David didn't know how to fix that, didn't know how to change what happened. It was all just a blur, a haze of death and horror. Everyone around him had all these plans, ideas -- he reacted as best he could, but nothing he did was ever enough.

One clear memory though, was what happened to Syd, the very essence of her being, when it was ripped out of her, her own power turned against her. But he couldn't say it. Couldn't repeat it. It made his blood run cold like it'd been replaced by ice water.

The admission of love had his eyes opening again, looking at Syd with every ounce of guilt he had in him. David loved her, so, so much. Not a day went by where she wasn't on his mind, active in a ghostly manner, or simply re-running every memory he had of her as much as possible to keep himself from giving up the only thing he had left: his damned life.

Words stolen from him, his eyes fell as she spoke about getting lost in time. "Emotions made everything I could do unpredictable," he offered, voice soft and rough again as he felt himself shutting down. Any energy or flicker of hope there once was drained by the image of Syd's death. "They're a trigger, and they work, but... triggers also make an ex-junkie want to use again." Essentially, they were dangerous when used too much and pushed too far.

"It used a blade," David said suddenly, eyes distant as his shoulders went slack, "made of pure, psychic energy... to cut your soul into pieces." A beat. "Then ash. Nothing but ash."

Falling silent then, looking much as he had when Sydney first entered, the memory of it ran over and over and over again. Unstopping, no detail missed. Over and over.

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