Prologue
She sits in her cell, which could be considered a bedroom. A bedroom is supposed to have two windows at least, right? She isn’t sure… guess it’s more of a cell than anything. It’s just a room with four walls, a locked door she could break through whenever she wanted, and one small window. Barred. Again, could break through whenever she wanted to. She chooses not to, and it’s her home, after all. She sits in her bed; boxers and a bra is all she has on. She sifts through a book; it’s written in Russian, as that is her mother tongue. “Because I could not stop for death, he kindly stops for me…” she mumbles, annotating some more Emily Dickinson. One of her favorite authors. Her… bedroom, let’s say, has a crappy cot in the corner facing the entrance: sheets lay wrinkled on the surface along with her favorite blanket. A desk in the corner across, right next to the door, with piles of books on it. And piles of books around her whole room. She isn’t allowed to have hobbies; however, those around her believe the books would be suitable for learning more about the world without leaving the penitentiary.
“Izolda!” HE yells. HE is dangerous. She knows HE should be avoided. Her door slams open; she hears his footsteps before he arrives. Mentally preparing herself for him… HIS… anger and his fear. The way his heartbeat speeds up whenever she gets angry; killing him would be easy, but she knows that he’s just as dangerous dead as alive. She looks up, staring into his eyes as she pushes her hair back. Slicked back and a deep black. He stands next to her cot, a face painted in rage. “Would you care for an assignment, my dear,” he growls, grabbing her book and throwing it at the wall. It bends slightly, probably not as usable anymore. Not that it was ever that high quality. He isn’t asking if she wants an assignment; it’s a threat, take the assignment or get the shit beat out of you.
“Of course, sir,” she says, deciding not to push it today. It’s early in the morning, and her patience for abuse won’t last right now.
He frowns, his eyebrows pulling in further. His face is old now, wrinkled and worn. Clearly, he was old when he began raising her… now he’s aged. He’s not scary anymore—weak, slouching, wrinkles scattering his skin. “Aren’t you a little stupid to be threatening me, old man,” she says, knowing he cannot speak English. She was taught the language by a lovely lady… HE killed her. HE cut off her first emotional connection in front of her eyes. She never did it again. Never showed care for others ever again, knowing anybody she cared for he would destroy. Sometimes… tortuously.
“Someone is trying to stop us. Our plans,” he says, his voice low and angry. She fears him in this voice moments before disaster. She knows it well. “You will kill her.”
She nods, standing up as he leaves the room. She throws on her suit, all black, skin tight. The sleeves are short, crossing straps going down the arms, and gloves are attached. She wears boots with them, no heels. Heels are a death trap. She splits her hair down the middle, shaved sides and back on her hair. She touches up the shaved sides, knowing that the longer she took, the more irritated HE would be. She loves her subtle rebellions. “The carriage held but just ourselves – And Immortality…”
She sighs, going for the door but not opening it herself. She knocks on it, and a guard on the outside opens it for her. She smiles when she realizes it’s Yegor. “Yegor!” she grins, “how is your wife? And the kids?” He shudders; clearly, he didn’t realize she knew that about him. She isn’t his friend but she likes knowing things, just to fuck with people. She laughs, shoving him in the shoulder and sending him flying. She hears his shoulder pop out before he screams. She giggles; that sound sends a shudder of pleasure through her body.
She strolls through the facility, a cold place with windowless, barren walls. Guards are everywhere, and for the most part, they can’t hurt her. Except the rooms with her weakness, the green stuff that glows. She’s not quite sure what it is, or what it’s called, but it’s… slightly terrifying. She meets him in the recon room, just a bunch of computers with one big screen on the wall. “Took your time, huh?” the man who is in a higher rank than HIM says. This man—Vadik, is his name—has a kinder smile. He isn’t scary; he is kind and seems to care for her. However, there is no guarantee that it isn’t lies. She shouldn’t trust him, but she does a bit. She shrugs, “Well, care to hear your assignment?” HE isn’t there, thank god, she’s much more relaxed without him there. She nods, grabbing some nerd in front of a computer. She throws him into the wall, maybe killing him, she isn’t sure. She plops in his chair, hooking her feet on the table. “Try not to kill my men. That one was pretty smart,” Vadik says, swatting her feet off the table.
She scowls, focusing her hearing slightly. “He’s alive, heart is beating and all that.” she sighs, putting her feet back up and leaning back in the chair. “So what’s my assignment this time? Hm? Kill some man? Kill a family? Kidnap a someone, an anyone?”
“You’re killing a woman, but this time it’s different. You must be careful; she’s of high status.” He sighs, typing away at the keyboard in front of her. A woman's face appears on the screen, and she bolts up. It knocks him on his ass, which she would laugh at, except she’s too focused on this woman. Her hair: the brightest red she’s ever seen. It’s so… entrancing, her eyes a deep brown. Her smile is broad, and her teeth are pearly white. “Are you focused?” he says, snapping in front of Izolda’s face. She blinks a few times and nods, moving her eyes back to the screen. “She’s getting into ‘green energy’ and is taking away some of our product sales. Kill her. Subtly then come back, no big deal.” She nods, deciding it’s not a bad idea to go and see her. As soon as she sees her in person and the woman is as disappointing as she expects her to be… then everything will go back to normal.
“Yes sir.” she says. She can’t fly in this room, it’s lined with the scary green stuff. “Send the info to my tablet. Where am I going?” She walks to the door, opening it up and heading into the hall. He responds in a normal tone and of course she hears it. National city, that’s where her angel —her assignment is.
She leaves the facility, arriving outside its doors and in front of the sun. She smiles as it falls upon her body. Everything feels better in front of the sun. She feels stronger, she thinks she might get her power from the sun but she’s really not sure. They won’t tell her anything about where she’s from, just that she showed up in front of this facility as a baby and grew up here. That’s all they know. It’s been twenty years two days ago since she arrived. It irritates her that she is unable to figure out where she’s from. They restrict her every movement, her only escapes are her assignments. They are always too short, these people are so weak.
She floats into the air, taking in the sun fully. “Izolda!” He says, making her flinch. She floats slowly to the ground, standing in front of him at full height. “The woman you’re going after may be dangerous.”
She scoffs almost flying off immediately, “none of them are dangerous.” she laughs, “they’re all weak.” He stares at her a moment but doesn’t say anything else, simply waving her off. She laughs again, completely flabbergasted by his stupidity. Nobody can kill her, even he couldn’t… he tried so hard and he couldn’t. Ever.
She floats slowly through the sky, She’s excit- dreading seeing this woman for the first time. She’s going slow to stop from seeing her… she needs this freedom, if only for a bit.
By the time she makes it to National City, it’s dark. The lights are out, though she knows where her Lena- this Lena Luthor woman lives she decides, instead, to go for a drink. She scans with her x-ray vision to find the nearest bar from high in the sky. She floats down, ever so slowly, landing in a back alley to a bar. She stares down at her outfit, this wouldn’t work in a public space. She sighs… god forbid she wears normal clothes to an outing. On the other hand… dealing with stealing something would be way too much work.
She goes around to the front of the bar, opening the door. A few heads turn her way but for the most part she ignores them. She goes to the bar, tapping her fingers on the top of it. “Hey there lady, cosplaying or some shit?” She growls, “alright, alright, relax. I won’t ask any more, what do you want to drink.”
Alcohol doesn’t really do anything for her but sometimes it can taste good. She finds that she most enjoys wines from the… 1930s, they have an extremely rich taste that always brings her the slightest bit of joy. “Any wines from the 1930s? Or earlier?”
“What? C’mon lady, this is a shitty dive bar. I’ve got crappy bourbon.” She growls slightly, this is just… not a good option. She nods, anything at this point. She needs something to distract her until tomorrow.
She’s determined that the best choice would be to wait until her Lena- this woman was in her office. Somewhere out in the open, she’s supposed to be subtle but she’s not feeling it. If she’s going to kill this gorgeous woman, she’d do it to where everyone could see and know that the orders she’s been given are by the Russian govt. The woman is just too pretty to deserve to die. As she’s deciding over what to do, a drink is put in front of her.
She takes it, swirling it around a bit before sipping at it a bit. This is just nasty, bourbon is not it. She snarls, standing up. “Woah there, where’s the fire, lady?” the bartender chuckles. She throws the glass at the ground.
“You serve shitty alcohol, and stop trying to talk to people, it’s annoying as hell.” she says, storming out.
“Um, money dude? You gotta pay!” She ignores the comment, this isn’t worth it.
The next day, she found herself asleep on top of the L corp building because where else is the best place to sleep. The sun comes up, giving her the same burst of life it often does. Its warmth seeps into her bones. A semblance of a smile begins on her face before she realizes what she must do today. She doesn’t wish to kill this woman, this angel of a person. There’s no reason that she must die! Izolda just doesn’t understand, It makes no sense. She’s trying to help the planet right? So what’s the point in killing her?! She breathes before she can let this go further than it needs to. She just needs to kill this woman, then get on with it. Life will continue as it always will.
She floats down to where she’s determined the woman's office is. Despite the early hour, there the woman sits. Hunched over some documents. Izolda crashes through the windows of the building, causing glass to go all over the woman. A piece barely misses from lodging itself in her shoulder. “Hello, Lena Luthor.” She says. The woman stands slowly before whirling around to look at Izolda.
“What the hell?!”
“I am here to…” Her words fade when she opens her eyes to the woman in front of her. Her picture does not do her justice, her eyes are darker than her picture and they hold so many wild thoughts. Her heartbeat is so distinct, within healthy bounds however… it drags her attention like a lighting rod. Her hair is up in a bun on her head, messy with a pencil sticking out from it. She wears jean shorts, very short jean shorts. Her shirt is nothing but a tank top with some unknown band on it. Her body is as enticing as her eyes, tall, taller than Izoda which surprises her. Long, elegant fingers, and wrists that were meant to be tied. Soft red rope so as to not irritate her skin, it would pop out against the paleness. Would she cry if it was too tight? Would she moan?
“Who are you?! What do you want?” the woman says, shocking her out of her stupor. Her confidence surprises Izolda. Despite the danger of the situation, she stands at full height. “Well?!”
Izolda cannot focus, she cannot look at this woman's face. She’s too distracting. She charges Lena, grabbing her throat and flying out the same window she came. She holds her above the city. “I am here to kill you Lena Luthor of L Corp.” The woman grabs at Izolda’s arm, bringing her legs up and wrapping around her arm like a sloth. She can feel every curve of her body, every tone, every feeling coursing through her body. Izolda wobbles, moving down slightly from the distraction. “Stop distracting me!” she yells, throwing Lena in the air.
Lena screams in fear but Izolda catches her by the collar of her tank top before she can drop fully. “I-I’m not distracting you! I don’t even know why you’re here!”
Tears stream down the woman's face causing a shudder through Izoldas body, “You are doing this on purpose, to gain my sympathy. You will not trick me!” she screams, flying down at full speed to slam Lena in the ground.
“Oh shit! Oh shit! Fuck me! Please, please, I-I’m sorry for whatever I did! C’mon, don’t kill me!” she screams, clawing at her neck. They are about to reach the floor when Izolda stops, “HOLY SHIT! Thank god!”
“Who are you Lena Luthor and why do you distract me so?!”
“I don’t know who you are or what you’re talking about if you could just… if you’d just… let’s talk okay?” Lena offers, her hands shake and her heartbeats at outrageous speeds. Izolda flies her into the sky, “okay okay! No talk, got it! I got it! No fucking talking! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! No talking.”
“Why are you challenging the status quo?! Why could you not have been normal?!”
“Status quo? What… What are you talking about? You mean my new initiative?! For green energy?! Did someone send you, is that why?!”
We slowly drove – He knew no haste- Stop! Don’t let the words distract you! She’s tricking you! Izolda thinks, glaring at Lena.
“No, no! I see your face! Do not throw me at the ground again! Look whoever these people are, it’s fine! I’ll pay you double, triple even!” Izolda slams her hand on her own forehead, trying to focus, this woman and her entrancing face makes it so hard. Everything about her is just so gorgeous. And every little thing is distracting.
“I don’t want money,” she growls.
“Okay, okay. No money, what can I do? Anything, I’ll do anything!” Izolda hovers for a bit before moving Lena so she was holding her bridal style. Lena for her part scrambles to hug her as tight as possible. Eventually, Izolda sets her carefully on the balcony of her office building. “Oh thank god!” Lena collapses on the floor, Izolda can hear her hands shaking. Her heart beat a mile a minute. After a few minutes of Lena breathing deeply, Izolda patiently waits. She already scared the shit out of the angel, the least she can do is let her breathe for a bit. “Okay,” she slowly stands, still shaking slightly. Her hair has fallen out of its bun and is all over the place. “So who are you?”
“No one.”
Lena sighs, walking over the broken glass to her desk. “Okay, no one. Who wants to kill me this time?” Izolda hesitates at that, this time? The woman stretches down and opens a cabinet under the desk. She pulls out a bottle of extremely expensive scotch. “Aren't gonna tell me? Fine. What can I do so you don’t kill me? Money?” She sloppily pours three fingers worth of scotch, spilling some. She downs it, pours another, downs it. She pours one more with two fingers worth before lowering herself into her office chair.
“These rich people think they can solve everything with money.” she mutters under her breath as Lena sits at her desk, typing away at her computer, sipping slowly at the drink. It’s an irritating noise, the clicking of the keys so fast and incoherent. Digital writing makes no sense to her, it goes too fast and it skips past all the good parts of writing. The thinking it through, the confusing thoughts, the bad thoughts, the good thoughts, any of the thoughts. “No, money won’t work. I will shadow you, determine if you’re worth keeping alive.” She’d never done this before, but if she could prove to upper management that it wasn’t worth killing this angel then all the better.
“I don’t think that will work for me. I’m busy.”
“No choice.” Lena gives her an aggravated look, but there’s no point. She was going to follow this woman around, the other option was to just kill her. And that, in no way, was a real choice. Taking this woman from the world would be akin to ripping her own heart out. She felt too attached, if HE was here, he’d kill her. Just so the pain would reach her. Just to weaken her further. She wasn’t weak here though, the green rock wasn’t a threat. The carriage held but just ourselves, her shine akin to the sun. She shook her head at the thought of warping that gorgeous poem to relate to her obsession. Though the stories are not dissimilar, her bringing death upon the woman.
“Mmm, fine! But just… don’t be annoying, okay?” the woman says, going back to type away. Izolda moved toward her, looking over her shoulder at the documents and the screen. She held her hands behind her back, leaning close enough to smell the perfume that lay on the woman's neck. A sweet smell, similar to honey with a tinge of something floral. She couldn’t place it though. She leans closer, dipping her nose in the woman's neck, she jumps smacking her in the face. “Ow! Don’t-don’t get that close!” she says, scrambling back in the rolling office chair.
“That would constitute as annoying?” she asks, her abilities are impressive however socializing is not one of them. Never having consorted with others her age, she only knows violence. She’s genuinely curious, raising one brow, still leaned over slightly.
“No, not-”
“You said to not be annoying since that’s not annoying, shouldn’t it be allowed?” She stands to her full height, looking down at the woman. She isn’t sure why the angel reacts like this, though maybe her first impression was not the best. She didn’t kill her so it was one of her best first impressions.
“Yeah, but like… personal space? So just… don’t come so close. It makes me uncomfortable.” She gave the woman a confused look, tipping her head to the side but nodding in the end. She takes a step back as Lena goes back to her work. She wanders the office, looking at the bookshelves lining the walls, fidgeting with the ornaments sitting on a coffee table in front of a small couch. The breeze from outside pleasant on her skin as she looks around. However, she hears a shudder come from the woman, it makes her unhappy though she can’t place why.
Should I go buy a jacket? Or fix the window? She thinks, walking up to the desk. It has an encasing on the bottom acting as legs, clear maybe glass, maybe plastic. She isn’t sure. An opaque table top covers the glass outline. A computer monitor, nicer than the ones she’s seen, rests on the desk, tilted slightly to the side allowing whoever sits in the chairs in front of the desk to have full view of the woman. She lowers herself into one of said chairs, it’s comfortable, sinking in slightly. “Do you require a jacket?”
“You mean because you broke my nice window and now there’s cold morning air just coming into my office? Yeah, I’ll need a jacket. I already called someone to fix it.” the woman says with a sarcastic tone. The arrogance astounds her as she could kill the woman at any moment. It would be easy, snap of her fingers really. Though… the arrogance also irritates her. The woman, perhaps, would appreciate a punishment. Izolda figures that that would diminish her arrogance.
If she was floundering with a painted red ass. Tears down her cheeks. Humiliated. Izolda simply shudders at the thought.
She’s snapped out of it with a question though, “What are you wearing? How are you not cold anyway?”
“No matter, I don’t feel the cold.” she says before standing again. Sitting isn’t helpful, she needs to do something. She cannot just sit here and mess with the angels office. The angel stares up at her, “what is it?”
“I need to go. But I can’t have you following me around wearing that. What if you stay here and wait for me?” the woman offers. She scoffs, she will follow the woman everywhere to determine if she deserves to live. She cannot do this if she is restricted to this office at every turn. She walks around the side of the desk slowly, seemingly calm but speeds to grab the woman's throat.
“You will not escape from me Lena Luthor,” she growls, squeezing. The woman immediately back tracks as all rich liars do. She’s encountered it often, she will offer money again, perhaps call in guards.
“No , no! It’s not what you think, I meant because this getup is weird. Okay? You can’t walk around dressed like a supervillain, someone will call Superman on you!” she laughs nervously, grabbing, once again, at her arm. She’s suspicious of the woman but decides to let it slide by loosening her hand and allowing for full breath. The woman immediately obliges to her mental order, taking one full breath. She immediately tightens her hand, relishing in the control over the angel's breathing. “Okay, okay, relax, sh-shopping! Let’s go shopping, I’ll get you some blend in clothes and you can follow me around!”
She tips her head to the side, is the woman tricking her or is the angel offering friendship. “Fine.” she decides the latter, dropping her hand. She sheepishly grabs the back of her neck, not really sure how to approach this situation. “Apologies, Lena Luthor.”
The angel takes deep breaths, “th-that’s fine. You’re wary, I get it. I’m wary of you!” she laughs, slapping her shoulder and immediately wincing. She stands, walking around the desk and to the door. “You coming?” the angel asks, staring back at her.
“We will fly,” she says, backing toward the window.
“No we will not, after flying with you the first time, I’m not doing that again. We’ll drive.” Izolda has a negative reaction to that, small spaces don’t really work for her. Childhood trauma and all that. Cars, she’s tried them, hasn’t really worked before. With the angel there, she might be able to distract herself but even then, could be dangerous. “Come on, let’s go.” The angel makes a face, a smile but not a happy one. A teasing one, maybe? “Is the new superman scarrreeed??”
“Superman?” she mumbles more to herself.
“Ugh,” the angel walks over, grabbing her wrist, “come along, Ms. Nobody.” She walks forward, allowing herself to be pulled forward by the angel. She tears her wrist from the angel's hand to hold her hand rather than getting yanked forward. The angel pulls her to an elevator. “No one will get on this elevator, it’s my private elevator.” The space begins to get smaller and smaller, she leans against the wall, breathing getting heavy.
The woman stands in front of her, grabbing her arm. Izolda can’t focus on her angel with this woman distracting her. Everything is too tight, everything is too small, and she can’t breathe. The green rock, it’s the green rock's fault. It must be. She grabs the woman's throat, “put that rock away!” she growls, holding her against the wall. Her vision is blurry, going in and out.
“Haven’t we done this too many times?” the woman says, the angel? Which one is it right now? “Calm down, what’s wrong?” The angel, it must be the angel. She drops her hand, grabbing the angel's left hip. She pulls her a bit closer. “Personal space, Ms. Nobody, c’mon.” She steps back a bit, going against the opposite wall. There’s a ding and the door opens, Lena drags her out. “Okay, small spaces aren’t your thing. I see why you wanted to fly.” she laughs. “We still gotta take the car but we’ll speed it up.”
They sit in a car, well more like a limo. It has a driver and everything. Like a carriage. “And I had put away…” she looks around, watching the city pass her by. “My labor and my leisure too.”
“What does that mean?” the angel asks, but she doesn’t respond. She hasn’t seen the city before, not with the sun out. She thought it was pretty, reflection of the sun bouncing off the windows of the skyscrapers. She’s actually touched the sky yet those buildings seem taller than even she can reach. There’s so many people, her age, other ages, none of them compare to the angel though. “Something wrong?”
“The people… they are much more interesting than I was taught.”
“Taught? What were you taught?” the angel mumbles, scooching closer.
“That people were dangerous, evil, to be killed.” she mumbles, knocking on the window a bit. “The people do not seem dangerous here, they seem normal. Living everyday.”
“That’s because people aren’t evil, not inherently. Some are even heroes. Like superman.” the angel explains.
“Who is this superman? I don’t understand.”
“You don’t know?” She shakes her head, “let’s shop first. Then we can talk about all that.”
She doesn’t trust the angel… not in the slightest, despite her eyes however entrancing they may be. However… stop- don’t think about it.
Lena
Nobody continues staring out the window… she seems so out of sorts. This has been a confusing day. First she woke up at the butt crack of dawn to nightmares of her dad. Went into work early and was thrown about by some crazy lady who decided that she was worth keeping around? Come on.
In the end, rather than being aggressive towards this superman-esque woman, she’d just act as if she’s an assistant. Free labor, she decides. Taking her to get clothes is just to lull her into a false sense of security. At the first chance, she’s calling someone, hopefully superman. She used to date James Olsen before he realized she was a Luthor, so that might work, she decides. She stares at the girl… she’s looking longingly out the window. Her hand grips the seat of the car… clearly she’s nervous. Lena would feel bad except that the girl tried to kill her… multiple times. Her eyes roam across her body, the suit giving a clear view of her enticing body. She’s muscled, that’s clear enough, seeing the strain in her arms from gripping the chair so tightly. Her biceps are bulging, the suit is short sleeved which allows the veins in her arm to be seen. This… does interest Lena. “So, Nobody, you doing okay?”
Nobody gives her a glare, not responding. However, she leans back, closing her eyes and resting her head against the headrest. Distracting herself maybe. She turns her head to the side, now she looks out the window. She seems to be ignoring her… or asleep? Lena scooches a little closer to her, hoping to get a closer look at her face if she’s asleep. She runs her hand across the seat, bringing it up to her face. Just as her fingers are going to touch the girl's face, she grabs her throat. Lena chokes, “don’t touch, angel.” she murmurs, slowly releasing her neck and dragging her hand down Lena’s chest. The girl’s spine snaps straight when the car comes to a stop and she brings her hand away.
Angel? Lena thinks, is that what she is to the superman-esque girl… an angel? She’s everything but. She gets out of the car, the girl already on her side despite the fact that they got out at the same time. Super speed? It’s looking more and more like superman, she decides. “Well… follow me!” she grins, going around the car to the boutique she often shops at. The people are nice and the clothes are of high quality. Before she can open the door, the girl opens it for her. “Thank you?” she says, more as a question, wondering why this girl acts so oddly. Sometimes kind, sometimes confused, sometimes aggressive… she acts as if she’s never been out in the normal world.
“Ms. Luthor! Welcome back!” the manager at the front desk says.
“Hello, Salem, how are you? How is business?” She really doesn’t care that much, but it’s not like she can just ignore her, that doesn’t really help her much.
“I’m good, business is great! You’ve brought a friend?” The girl looks around the store, marveling at all the options. “What are you looking for, Miss?” the manager asks as she walks over to the pair.
The girl doesn’t respond, “um, don’t worry about that, I’ll choose for her.”
“Okay, Ms. Luther, I’ll be here if you need me!” Salem walks back to the front desk, flipping through a fashion magazine. Lena gives the girl a bit to look around, deciding that she clearly had not been in the world much if this surprised her. The boutique itself is pretty fancy but a store with clothes was not unusual.
“I… didn’t realize.” she mumbles, still looking around.
“Didn’t realize what?”
“That… clothes could come in so many colors… I thought they only came in black or green.” she says, wandering towards a rack and running her hand over the clothing carefully. Lena’s heart goes out for her, what place would one have to grow up in that she didn’t know clothes came in colors. Clearly she’s been around other people, she can’t figure out why that would happen. Lena slowly walks up behind her… not sure how to help.
She was just going to buy whatever she thought would look good on the girl… but maybe it would be better to ask her. “Do you… want anything in particular?” she wonders, resting her hand on Nobody’s arm, right below her elbow.
The girl looks up at her, angling her head only slightly as their height difference is not that much. Her eyes widen. This confuses Lena, she seems… surprised or awe struck? “I wouldn’t… know what-” her facade dropping for just a moment. A face with real emotion, not anger or a simple neutral tone… almost innocent in nature. “no, I do not want to get anything from here. I’d like to go back to your office building. Watching you there would give me a better idea of whether or not to kill you.” Her first few words seem shaky, almost afraid. Lena isn’t really sure how to react to this, she wants to prove that she doesn’t need to literally die but this girl clearly needs some wardrobe. Something fun to introduce her to the world… maybe.
“Well…” Lena looks at their two body types, drastic difference but her idea still might work, “I wanna buy stuff, so you’ll have to deal.” she says coldly. Lena looks around, hoping to catch something that would work with her style better. The black clothing really doesn’t fit her, something that’s surprising considering it seems to be the only thing she wears. She wanders around, starting with something light. White, beiges, grays, avoiding anything too dark and too bright.
Lena, herself, swung for darker… much darker, or greens, matching her hair.
She pulls out a few things, lighter colored pants, belts, shoes, some shirts. Bringing each of them up to Nobody’s body to see if it matched her skin tone. “This is not bad,” she mumbles. “Follow me.” The girl follows easily, right to the back dressing rooms. “Change into this.”
“What? I thought this was for you.”
Lena groans, “just trust me!” The girl scratches the back of her neck but moves to remove her clothing. Her face goes bright red, “in the dressing room! In the room!” She quickly covers her eyes until she hears the girl go inside.
“Ms. Luthor,” she says, “come help me.”
Immediately, Lena’s hackles rise. Heading into a dressing room with someone who is clearly interested in you seems like a bad idea. She slowly opens the curtain, peeking in. All she sees is a back with a shirt on it. She lets out a small breath of relief until the girl turns around. The belt is open along with the pant buttons showing black boxers which surprises her a bit. The button up is tucked in for the most part but not buttoned which does surprise her, maybe she doesn’t work with buttons often? “What do you… need help with? I don’t understand?”
“Do it up for me.” The order is calm, unbothered. Seems she does know how to use clothes, Lena clearly underestimated her. Embarrassing really. A few minutes pass as they stand in the room. It’s pretty big with a bench and a wide mirror. Plenty of space to be far apart yet they’re a mere few inches from each other. The girl steps closer, “well?” A shaky breath escapes Lena as she brings her hands up. She starts with the buttons on the shirt, down first. She goes slowly, her usually deft fingers struggling to do it. Eventually, she makes it to the top button, it’s slow going, taking almost a full 30 seconds. Nobody’s breathing is calm throughout the whole process, not Lena though, her breaths heavy and unsteady.
She holds her breath on the last button, two down from the top, taking a step back before breathing in fully. “Okay-”
“Not done.” Nobody grabs her hand and drags it down to her belt. “Here too.” Her eyes shoot to hers. She stills for a few moments, her hands simply holding the belt. “Well angel?” Lena stares at her, the girl is trying to overpower her… not physically, but mentally.
She takes a breath, trying to calm down. “Do it yourself…” she whispers, pulling her hands back.
“Stop, do it now.” she says, more sternly this time, holding her wrists there.
Lena gasps another breath, “f-fine.” She first buttons the pants, finding it odd how she’s putting this stranger's clothes on. Not taking them off, as she more often does. She shakily does up the belt before taking a step back.
“Well done, angel.” Lena nods awkwardly, her face flushing at the praise. The girl checks herself out in the mirror. “I usually wear black.” she murmurs.
Lena takes a few breaths, ignoring this goddamn arrogant woman. After sorting that out, she looks her over. The shirt is tucked in tight and the girl buttons it to the top. “No, don’t do that.” Lena turns her around, unbuttoning the top buttons. She loosens the tucking in of the shirt, hanging it over the pants slightly. “That’s much better, you look very nice, rockin the light academia look!” The girl gives her a confused look, “you don’t know what that is… do you?” She shakes her head, “that… seems to make sense.”
Where did you come from Ms. Nobody?
Eventually, they arrive back at the office building. It took an extraordinary amount of convincing to the girl to wear the clothes Lena purchased. She figured that if you had worn something that protective and then switched to flimsy clothing, it could be scary. Lena sat at her desk, once again typing away, the shopping spree was a nice break though. The girl was… on the balcony, simply staring at the sun.
“Ms. Nobody, whatever are you doing?” she asks, slowly turning around to face the stranger. She seemed to bloom in the sun… looking softer and simply ecstatic to be in the open. How often is she kept in the dark?
“I’ll tell you how the sun rose…” the girl starts, throwing Lena off guard. What does she mean by the sun rising? “A ribbon at a time.”
“What are y-” she’s cut off by the girl, which enrages her. Despite her relaxed demeanor, she is often never interrupted or disrespected in that way.
“Шпили плавали в аметисте,” she continues. The words sounded like gibberish to Lena’s ears, she feels bad thinking that way but it’s true. Maybe it’s some obscure language, though it sounds similar to Russian. “Новости разбегались как белки…” Her words fade off before she turns toward Lena. “The sun rises, and the sun will fall.”
“What??? What is that supposed to mean? You sound like a crazy person.” She gives a soft smile before slowly floating in the air, seeming to prepare to leave. Lena jumps up… “Wait!” she gives the girl a hopeful look, “are you… have you decided what you’re going to do?” The only thing she gets in response is a melancholy smile, the most honest look she’s gotten from the girl the whole time they’ve been together.