[identity profile] shakenstrfaith.livejournal.com
Scully was on the farm, having got some sleep in her room in the bunker. She had got sick again when she woke up, and has been slowly sipping on water to keep hydrated. Also eating lightly to calm her stomach. It was still the first trimester so she knew that part was pretty normal. Even if she worried about some of the circumstances of her pregnancy. She was now sitting down outside, with a cup of water in hand to sip.
[identity profile] npwa.livejournal.com
[ooc: SO! The alien DNA that's been sitting dormant in Lenore's system has woken up, and she is now an official human-alien hybrid. What this means for you: nothing, really. XD Just don't piss her off, because she can and will hurt you, and DO NOT MAKE HER BLEED. Her blood is caustic, and it is green, and if you are human, it will kill you. k? k. :D]

It started with a familiar pain in her head, a dizzying sensation that sent her sprawling on her bedroom floor one night in late January, and the pain in her neck made her writhe and cry silently in the darkness, and no one heard her and no one came.

No one ever comes.

And then she felt it. The pull, the force that tugged at her gut and made her sick -- the pull that lured her out of the safety of the farmhouse, across the fields, into the meadows and beyond, into the darkness of the night, and she swore she could hear the stars telling her to keep going, keep going, it'll be okay --

"You're not really here," she heard herself say to the sky, "she said -- they said -- you can't be here --"

... and no one heard her screaming, and no one came because no one ever does, and they never will becase it's too late.



That was four months ago.

Four months ago, and now she's found her way back, but she's not the same.

The figure standing outside the Cooper farm is, indeed, Lenore Ackart, but now... now she's different.

She's not afraid, anymore. She's accepted her fate, the fate that she heard so much of when she was a child, and she's embraced it (because she had no choice) and she's the same person she was before but now, she's not afraid.

She's not afraid because nothing can hurt her.

No one can kill her. They don't know how.

No one can stop her.

She has no mission, no purpose, but she's waiting -- standing there outside near the lake, dirty and speckled with blood that isn't hers (she had to eat something) -- and should the day come, she'll be ready to fight back, and they'll pay with their lives.
[identity profile] npwa.livejournal.com
Lenore has been out back by the kraken pond for some time, now.

Sitting. Watching.

Smoking.

Mostly thinking, though.
[identity profile] npwa.livejournal.com
Lenore is perched on a couch inside the Cooper household, hugging her knees to her chest.

She's got the hood of her sweatshirt tugged over her head and is resting her chin atop her knees.

Her eyes are closed -- maybe she's napping?

Maybe.
[identity profile] npwa.livejournal.com
The sun is setting, and a car appears in the distance.

Inside is a 24-year old, a 7 year old, and an imaginary sister.

Lenore, exhausted, stops the car outside a farm that looks like it hasn't seen a drop of water in years, and promptly flops back onto the hood of the vehicle.

She's tired. She's hungry. Her hands are shaking and she's sweating and it takes everything she has to keep it from happening, and within a few minutes, it subsides. There are a few lights on in the farmhouse, she notices, and so she checks to make sure Bridgette is still asleep before walking over and knocking on the door.

"Hey," she calls, hoping someone hospitable will open the door, "I've got a kid with me."
[identity profile] lytii-intuition.livejournal.com
[ooc: So okay. Dream sequence post! If you want your pup to have a wacky dream sequence involving meeting Intuition, tag away! If you want more information about what the heck I'm talking about, ping at pythianhabenero!]

Intuition is dreaming.

For the first time since becoming human, she's dreaming as herself, properly abstract - drifting through the fantastic realms of the human subconscious, brushing up against a thought here, touching down in a familiarly unfamiliar landscape there.

Perhaps the next dream she touches will be yours.

Perhaps it won't.
[identity profile] npwa.livejournal.com
Lenore Ackart has seen some strange things in her lifetime, but not once did she ever expect to find herself standing in the middle of a barren wasteland, and yet... here she is.

There isn't a sign of any life around -- human, animal, plant, nothing. She's standing on a gigantic mound of dirt and debris and cannot, for the life of her, figure out how she got here, or where, exactly, here is.

She scowls at the empty landscape and fishes a loose cigarette from out of her pocket, placing it loosely between her lips.

At least nobody's chasing her.

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