multiversallogs | She's the kind of girl who looks for love in all the loney places

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She's the kind of girl who looks for love in all the loney places

Who: Stephanie Brown and Megan Gwynn
What: Steph in mom mode
Where: Megan's apartment
When: Early afternoon sometime in the week after Steph's conversation with Jae
Notes: None.
Warnings: sexual assault, rape culture, victim blaming, drug use, disordered eating (copy/pasted from Megan's earlier log in case any of them come up)

It takes her a little while after running into Jae to get sorted for going to see Megan. As far as Steph knows, Megan is sick, feeling a little run down, and Jae had agreed with Steph that a visit might be a good idea. She'd gotten a little sidetracked by sorting out her apartment, but eventually she finds time to make up a batch of chicken soup and buy some basic groceries - she has no idea if Megan's up to doing her own shopping - then she hops on the train to Lich Setting, and walks the rest of the way to Megan's apartment in Howl Barrow.

As she steps up to the front door with the bag of groceries, she wonders whether she should've called first, and whether or not this whole thing is appropriate in the first place. Megan and her have only met once in person and once on the network, but, well, Baedal seems to sort of place where friendships are made fast. Shared traumatic experiences tend to do that. The added bonus of being trapped in a city makes Baedal even better for enabling the sort of friendships that tend to involve a lot of caring for each other while barely knowing each other. As for calling... well, Megan hadn't answered her last texts, so Steph doubts she'd answer any new ones. And Megan can always tell her to leave if she doesn't want her there.

Her doubts assuaged, Steph knocks firmly on the door.

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Her first reaction to seeing Megan is a worried frown. She looks worse than Steph expected and she's surprised Jae wasn't more concerned about Megan. The frown doesn't last long though, Steph smooths it over with a gentle smile.

"Hey, Megan. I heard you were feeling a bit under the weather, so I brought chicken soup, orange juice and cookies," She shifts the weight of the bag in her arms. There's obviously more than just soup and cookies in there but Steph will mention the rest if/when it's needed. She won't actually ask to come in, she might've, before she'd actually seen how Megan looked, but now she doesn't want to push too hard. She's worried Megan won't respond well to any kind of pressure and chooses to leave it completely up to her whether she wants to just take the food and lock herself back up, or if she wants to invite Steph in.

"Um." She gnaws on her lower lip, plainly considering this, and it takes her a lot longer than she would normally because her mind is a little foggy right now. She had a couple shots earlier (hair of the dog; it didn't help) and her post-ecstasy comedown is kind of messing with her. She glances behind her, at her living room which is still kind of trashed but at least sanitary now, it looks like any teenager's room.

"D'you want to come in?" she asks eventually, sounding a bit awkward -- it's partly because she's not sure what to do with this, people don't... just drop in to check on her if she's sick ("sick"), no one's ever really given a shit before. If anything, they'd run in the opposite direction to keep from getting what she's got.

Usually Steph is a bit of an impatient person, but when it comes to people needing help, she can force herself to stand still and wait.

"If it's cool with you," her smile brightens a little, because she's genuinely pleased that Megan hasn't already shut the door in her face, "I know I don't look it, but I'm a surprisingly good nurse."

Although her nursing experience was generally in the form of patching up wounds, she did do a fair bit of looking after sick kids when she was travelling around with Dr Thompson and figures looking after Megan for a little bit won't be too tricky.

Megan opens the door so Steph can enter and steps back to give her room. She's made a cursory attempt to clean up, throwing out anything that could go bad and dusting -- she sheds dust at a very slow rate, not noticeable unless she doesn't Swiffer regularly, which she hasn't been very much, here -- but... There's still clothes all over everything, including underwear, which she gives not a single fuck about. (It's not like people don't pay to see her in it, anyway.) The cat comes by to show some affection to Steph, then vanishes upstairs to do whatever cats do.

"Um... thanks for the stuff." She sounds a bit bewildered by that; her people (the tribe of technicolour teenagers who sleep in bus stops and assault strange men with trolling) think the cure to sickness is more alcohol. So.

She wonders where she heard that -- work? Probably. She hasn't been in in a while, people there think that she's been out sick.

She steps in and looks around the apartment, not minding the mess too much. If she was closer friends with Megan she would probably offer to help her clean up but she's fairly sure that would be overstepping some boundaries. She crouches down to briefly scratch the cat behind it's ears, then straightens up and looks in the direction of the kitchen.

"You're welcome, do you want me to heat up the soup for you?" There's a bit of an unspoken you look like you haven't eaten because she really looks like she hasn't. The worries are piling up and Steph makes it a mission to at least get Megan to perk up a little.

"Um... it's cool. I just ate. Can like, put it in the fridge or something." There are certainly a lot of used plates in the sink (on a list of chores to do, nobody puts dish-washing first) and it's hard to say how recent they are. She'll get around to it... eventually. At least she's feeding her cat regularly instead of leaving her to fend for herself out of the bag. (Satan was getting fat that way.)

She crosses the room to her purse, which appears to be fluorescent green and covered in cell phone charms, and pulls out a battered pack of cigarettes and a book of matches from the Vault. She smokes some kind of vanilla-flavoured cloves, they taste and smell ultra-sweet, and nobody in the world is surprised by that. "It's Steph, right? You were at -- um, we've met." She offers her the pack, although she doesn't expect her to take one.

"Sure," although she gives Megan a bit of a skeptical glance, unsure whether the part about having just ate is true. Steph opens the fridge and puts the soup and orange juice inside, she'd also bought a small carton of milk and a hlf dozen eggs, which go in the fridge too. She belatedly realises that maybe she should've asked Jae if Megan was a vegan, but it's too late now, "I got you some basics, I know grocery shopping can be hard when you're feeling sick."

There's also a small loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, a couple of cup noodles, aspirin and tylenol. But Steph will get them out in a second, for now she's inspecting the fridge to make sure there's no expired food in there.

She looks over to Megan at the question and smiles, "Yeah, it's Steph, and I was at your party." The offered cigarette gets turned down with a shake of her head and a mouthed no thanks.

"Yeah... I haven't really been out." For anything except to get drunk and high -- the food in her fridge is fine, though, it's mostly stuff that won't go bad for ages; she doesn't keep much fresh food in the house because Megan ... does not cook. Like, ever.

"Right. I remember. You work at the library." Everything about her is so subdued, compared to how she was then -- then again, it could just be how she is on her off hours... unlikely as that is. She sits down on the arm of the couch and draws her feet up on it, precarious, with her wings out behind her to keep her steady.

She closes the fridge door and walks over to Megan, leaning back against the nearest wall that faces her. Her gaze is a little scrutinizing, and there's worry written all over her face.

"That's me, I was gonna come see you at the Vault," She won't bring up the texts she sent, thinking it might make Megan feel guilt about having not replied. Steph doesn't say anything else for a moment, then carefully, "Did something happen, Megan?"

Because she looks kind of wrecked, but not sick. Steph remembers her mom looking like that sometimes, and it makes her ever more concerned; she wouldn't be surprised if Megan was taking drugs, but there's a difference between doing them recreationally and being an addict.

Megan is not great at hiding the way she feels -- she never has been, she's always been the type to wear her heart on her sleeve. At the same time, she loathes the idea of coming across as whiny, or worse, needy -- because being needy means you're vulnerable, which is not really a luxury she's been able to have. Cute girls can use vulnerable to their advantage, but Megan's had that mutant thing working against her.

Being viewed as cute is actually a very recent development for her. A Baedal-specific one.

She smokes without saying anything for a while, internally debating about this. "Yeah," she says, after some time, but -- "I don't really want to talk about it." She stubs her cigarette out in a teacup on her coffee table which evidently has been placed there for that specific purpose, because... why bother with proper ash trays, apparently.

Again, it's a little hard for Steph to be patient, but she manages. She's still watching Megan, like she's trying to read the answer on her face.

The answer doesn't really surprise her, "Alright," she wonders if Jae knew, and if he'd sent her over for this reason, "I know we don't know each other very well, and I don't wanna overstep any boundaries, but if there's anything I can do let me know, yeah? I wanna help, even if you just need like... a hug or something."

Megan had been so nice to her, and it's a little heartbreaking to know something bad happened.

Without anything to do with her hands, she flounders a little. She wishes her cat would come back downstairs, but she's too far to call her. She wraps her arms around her knees and looks at her toes, trying to concentrate on how she needs to paint them again, they're starting to chip.

"You ever know someone you thought was your friend, but it turns out they're a huge jerk?"

It's Steph's turn to be quiet for a moment, weighing up her options.

"I used to date this guy, and I'd thought we were close, that we were friends, not just two people sleeping together. Then he got me pregnant and disappeared off the face of the Earth when I needed him most," It sounds so casual, the way she says it, but her chest feels too tight and she's looking down at the floor. She doesn't talk about this, but something's happened to Megan and maybe it's a bit manipulative, but she hopes sharing something big will help Megan trust her. "So... yeah, I have."

"I'm sorry." A little guilt -- she didn't intend to dredge up any bad memories, and Megan always blames herself when other people feel bad, so...

She picks at some loose threads in her sofa and clicks her tongue ring against the back of her teeth. "Well, if you ever see Hilmi on the network, don't talk to him. He's a jerk." She also doesn't really intend to rat him out to other people like that, but it's the most concise way she can think of explaining without giving up too many of the gritty details. 'A jerk' will have to suffice; she'll have to think of a better way to explain it, later. A more censored one.

"Don't be, it's just something that happened," Steph shrugs, the whole experience kind of sucked, but there were good parts -- it brought her closer to Tim.

She tilts her head to the side a little, curious, "Hilmi's a jerk, I think I can remember that." She knows she should press for what happened, if only because if this Hilmi person hurt Megan, everyone else should be warned. But she figures asking exactly what happened will make Megan clam up, so she goes for a roundabout route, "Is there any chance he's gonna bother you again?"

"No." She doesn't want to see him, she's pretty sure Jae is going to avoid him, and... she still doesn't know what Sonja was planning on doing to him, but whatever it was, she's reasonably sure he's going to leave her alone from here on out.

It's not like it's hard for her to avoid people; if she doesn't want to be around them, she just teleports somewhere else.

She brushes her hair out of her face and shrugs, looking somewhere at the window, though not out it since her curtains are closed. "It's not like it's a big deal anyway, you know? Shit happens."

"Good," She makes a note to search through the network for any posts by Hilmi, to see if she can get a better idea of the sort of person he is, and if she should be keeping track of him.

Steph sighs softly and walks over to Megan, close enough that she can lay a hand on Megan's arm. (Though if Megan seems uncomfortable, she'll move her hand away), "Yeah, it does. But you're still allowed to be upset by it."

Megan is a tactile person -- under other circumstances she might shy away from it, but what happened to her wasn't violent, at least not in a physical way, and it doesn't bother her terribly. She rubs the corner of her eye with a finger, chewing her chapped lip up more. She is trying very hard to be her normal self, it's partially an affectation but one that feels comfortable, like an old coat -- it's just. Difficult to summon that kind of energy right now. "I guess."

"I'm not gonna ask what happened, 'cause it's your story to share if and when you're ready, but you have every right to be upset. No matter what he did, it's not your fault if you're hurting from it, and you don't owe it to anyone to try to get over it." She lightly squeezes Megan's arm, trying to give a sense of comfort.

"I know it's not easy, but you're a great person, Megan, and I don't wanna see you get hurt more by bottling it all up." She lets go and steps back, part of her is expecting that to make Megan shut down more, or maybe throw her out. So she's sort of inticipating the worst.

She rests her chin on her knees for just a moment before she starts fidgeting again, reaching for the butt of her last cigarette and relighting it. She'd prefer a joint right now but it's probably rude to get stoned in front of other people. Probably. There's some etiquette there, anyway.

"You won't tell anyone, right? I don't... really want everyone to know."

She starts to say of course not before realizing that could seem kind of dismissive, so instead she says, "I won't tell anyone. I can keep my mouth shut about important things."

She feels a little guilty for potentially lying -- she'll tell Babs if she thinks its something Oracle needs to know, or something she can help with.

Megan is quiet for a bit again, trying to find words for this without giving out too many details, because she doesn't particularly want people to know too much. It's not to protect Hilmi, specifically, although the guilt she felt over knowing that people had already done something there hurts -- mostly, it was also an incredibly painful experience and admitting to that kind of vulnerability is something she knows she shouldn't do.

But.

"I slept with this guy. I guess, like. He's not human. Something." She doesn't want to say specifically, for reasons she can't quite articulate -- it's a kind of misplaced protectiveness, like she thinks that if she names anything in particular, people will blame all xenians with it, and considering all xenians is a category she falls into (and faerie, sometimes, even though she's not), well. She has a vested interest in trying to protect the xenian community's reputation. It's not hard to figure out who and what, though. "I guess it gets you, like... addicted. He didn't tell me, and then, like. Fucked off for a week. I thought I was going to die."

She says that passively, like it wasn't I thought I was going to kill myself.

Steph waits, then listens without comment until Megan is finished talking. There's no chance of her judging all xenians on the actions of one, but she'd understand Megan's hesitation to group them all together. She can guess she's talking about Hilmi, though. Why else would she have told Steph to not talk to him?

She takes a moment to make sure she understands what Megan is saying, and then the first things she wants to ask is was he punished? but that's not... the right to thing to say, so instead she says, "What an asshole. Are you alright now? Physically, I mean."

There's no way she'd expect Megan to be emotionally/mentally okay. But she seems what addiction can do to someone, and she knows that even after it's out of your system -assuming Megan did that somehow - there are still after effects and none of them are pleasant. She wants to apologize, or to offer sympathy, but she has a feeling Megan might interpret it as pity.

She wipes at some imaginary blemish on her face with the same hand holding her cigarette -- it... comes alarmingly close to setting her hair on fire, she's careless like that -- and shrugs. "Yeah. I guess. Yeah. I just..." She frowns deeply. "I just feel really stupid."

MEGAN. Steph may have to confiscate that cigarette if she does that again. But she's distracted from mentioning it by what Megan says.

"Megan..." and then she doesn't know what to say all of a sudden, because she's been where Megan has, blaming herself for being assaulted and it just took her time and a lot of learing about rape culture to finally stop victim blaming. But she has to try to find something to say, "It's not your responsibility to ask 'will I get addicted to you if I sleep with you'. It's his responsibility to disclose that information to any potential partners."

"I should have known better." It sounds stupid, even saying it -- there are things she knows objectively aren't true, that she had no way of knowing that this would happen. Who could possibly predict this? It's not really about thoughts so much as feelings -- she feels like she did something wrong, that if she had just followed the Rules, it wouldn't have happened.

The problem is that the game is rigged. They don't tell you what the Rules are, and by the time you've got most of them figured out, you realise you can't follow all of them all the time, anyway.

"It's fine, I'm dealing with it." Yes... 'dealing with it'. Clearly she's doing a super good job of that, what with the abundance of alcohol in her flat and the drugs she can't stop doing.

"How were you supposed to know what he'd do to you?" There's the obvious analogy between what Hilmi has and STIs, but Steph actually has no idea a) if Megan used protection, or b) if condoms actually work against magical addictive dicks.

"You don't really look like you are." Sometimes honesty is the best way to deal with situations, and Steph feels like it's necessary now. Megan looks like shit, and she doubts repressing it will make things better.

"Guys are assholes. They usually pull something." She sounds resigned, not genuinely angry or even upset about that -- in her world, that's just one of those facts of life. Humans hate everything different. Grass is usually green. Guys will do whatever they think they can get away with.

Glancing around her apartment -- she really should clean it up, maybe next time she's up, she'll get around to picking up instead of pacing and manically calling everyone on her contact list -- she shrugs. "It's better than it was last week. It'll be better next week." Until she hits normal again.

"That's their fault, not yours." She doesn't know if she'll be able to make Megan believe it, but she's gonna keep saying it anyway.

"I don't mean the apartment. You look exhausted," she's really thinking that Megan looks like shit, but that's a bit harsher than is necessary. Steph really wants to beat the crap outta Hilmi for doing this.

"That's what I meant, yeah." This time she stubs out her cigarette for good -- it's barely more than a butt, she has more -- and turns, her legs dangling over the arm of the couch. She could sit like a normal person, but where's the fun in that? (Also, wings...)

"Do you want anything? A drink or something? I've got..." She pauses, gazing vaguely in the direction of the kitchen. Steph probably does not want a beer. Nor does she probably want a mimosa. Megan would like a mimosa, but fuck, effort. "Pop, I think. Juice at least." The subject change is not her most graceful, not that they ever are, but that's about all she feels up to talking about on that for now.

"POP would be good," she doesn't want to drink the juice she bought, one of them needs more vitamins in their diet and its not her.

She goes with the subject change, not wanting to upset Megan by saying more. Except then she's not sure what else to say. Normal chit chat seems kind of... weird after having the conversation they just did. She wonders if asking about the wings is impolite -- she's curious, but well aware its really none of her business.

"I nearly got a place in Howl Barrow, after seeing your part of the neighborhood," so that's still a little like chit chat, but its the best she's got, "It's a shame its a little too far out."

Megan pushes herself off the couch and walks -- a little unsteadily, she's still hungover -- into the kitchen, where she roots around for a bottle of pop. The ones they make in Baedal are nice, they use real sugar, not high fructose corn syrup like they do at home. As an afterthought, she gets herself one, too. It's got sugar and caffeine, that's good for you, right?

"It's nice... I like it a lot." It's also a much safer topic than her feelings or anything else that personal, and she seems to stir a bit, becoming more animated. "It'd be nice if it were closer downtown but um... I dunno. People're nice. There's lots to do." It is awfully close to the Spatters, though -- not that she's ever been down that far.

"Yeah, the commute was a little too long for my tastes," Skulkford - where she's planning to go - isn't that much closer, but every minutes of sleep counts when she doesn't get home 'till 4am, "And Skulkford's cheaper, which helps."

"I've not been there -- I heard they raise the prices if you've been there a while? It's a good starter, anyway, I think --" It's not unusual for people to move to a better place after they've been established in Baedal a while and the immediacy of oh god I need a roof over my head right-stat-now has settled down.

She brings them both glasses of pop and sits down with Steph, which, while it's clear that she's a little uncomfortable still, she does eventually chill out. It's like she's been waiting the whole time to be accused of something and when she figures out it isn't going to happen, a weight lifts off her shoulders. She's not used to talking to other girls her age, she's usually surrounded by men, especially not when she's not doing her manic pixie dream girl routine, so this is sort of a first for her, really. She might even eat something eventually.

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She's the kind of girl who looks for love in all the loney places

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