Inwhich Peace Whines.
Oct. 8th, 2014 12:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pace_tuaShe slept uncomfortably when she finally got inside her brownstone. Sir Pugsley lifted his head and huffed quietly at her intrusion into bed. Peace’s body felt bruised and tired, more bruised than she was willing to let on.
[One less thing to worry about.] She wasn’t sure why the innocuous remark stung when it came from Miklos, but it did.
“I’m not a thing,” Peace mumbled. “I’m not.” She pressed her face into her pillow and kicked her feet in protest. “I’m not, I’m not, I’m not.” Something stung along her nerves and synapses. A dull, achy throb started in the back of her mind, and Peace knew she would show up tomorrow to work with a raging, unhappy headache. It wouldn’t matter; the people above her wanted their information, and she would have to provide it. Because she should be thankful they took notice of her.
Not for the first time, Peace wondered what would have happened if the Illuminati hadn’t found her first. In some alternate reality, in some alternate place, she wondered if Templar Peace was happier or sadder.
Sir Pugsley, perhaps sensing her distress, huffed quietly and sat at her side, licking her forehead to comfort her. She wasn’t sure why animals didn’t affect her powers the way people and objects did. Maybe it was the one thing God had left her. Some sense of touch when she couldn’t really have it.
Rolling to her side, Peace picked up her phone and looked at her last message to Miklos. Switching to a private message, she swiped her finger across the letters quickly. [I’m sorry. Please don’t call me a thing. See you tomorrow.] She looked at the letters for a while and hit the back button.
It didn’t matter.
[One less thing to worry about.] She wasn’t sure why the innocuous remark stung when it came from Miklos, but it did.
“I’m not a thing,” Peace mumbled. “I’m not.” She pressed her face into her pillow and kicked her feet in protest. “I’m not, I’m not, I’m not.” Something stung along her nerves and synapses. A dull, achy throb started in the back of her mind, and Peace knew she would show up tomorrow to work with a raging, unhappy headache. It wouldn’t matter; the people above her wanted their information, and she would have to provide it. Because she should be thankful they took notice of her.
Not for the first time, Peace wondered what would have happened if the Illuminati hadn’t found her first. In some alternate reality, in some alternate place, she wondered if Templar Peace was happier or sadder.
Sir Pugsley, perhaps sensing her distress, huffed quietly and sat at her side, licking her forehead to comfort her. She wasn’t sure why animals didn’t affect her powers the way people and objects did. Maybe it was the one thing God had left her. Some sense of touch when she couldn’t really have it.
Rolling to her side, Peace picked up her phone and looked at her last message to Miklos. Switching to a private message, she swiped her finger across the letters quickly. [I’m sorry. Please don’t call me a thing. See you tomorrow.] She looked at the letters for a while and hit the back button.
It didn’t matter.
