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[ hand-holding is nice, yes. even if Jen's hair makes her look like the way she always imagined Goldilocks getting her name, or she's looking at Lina through eyes that see everything the same but not, somehow, at least the rest of her body is hers. she has seen the difference between her and Yang many times and the only thing they really have in common was...

was.... ]

I. I don't know. [ she frowned, brow furrowed. ] I think I just figured something out and it's gonna be. Rough.

[someone smoother than Lina might have taken the time to kiss Jen right about now, but she wasn't about to interrupt her like that and it doesn't seem very productive. so instead, she tries out this new "listening" thing. these memories always are rough, but if she's piecing things together, then... whatever it is, it's always going to be rougher.]

[Lina has some answers, but way more questions, about Two. and because she's a human being, she's going to try to piece things together from incomplete information. she's going to jump to conclusions and put together a narrative that makes sense no matter how depressing it is. and she thinks Jen might be doing the same.]

Do you know what you want? [her hand squeezes Jen's.] Let me help you.

[ that wouldn't have done much. nothing like a sudden existential crisis to really kill the mood. Jen let her head fall back against the glass, but more gently this time. comparatively. her eyes focused on the bright light above until she couldn't take the glare anymore. ]

Nmn. Not in here. [ Jen was feeling less tense now, by miles, but didn't trust her body not to betray her at this point. she raised her arm up behind her to grab the lip of the shower and tightened her grip on Lina fingers with the other. ] Help me up?

Yeah, of course.

[Lina gets out of her kneel and pulls up on Jen's arm to help her into a standing position, and even something like that seems like it would've been inconceivable a month ago. they've come pretty far, she thinks.]

Careful. I'll clean the bathroom up later, okay? [the towel rack is going to be... a problem. but she's not going to mention it right now.] You want me to make you something?

[all she knows she's good at is cooking, so of course that's going to be what she jumps to, even if it doesn't make a lot of sense right now. please just put up with her, Jen, she's... trying. she hopes her roommate can tell.]

[ Jen isn't even thinking about the collateral damage. it cannot be helped, though the broken glass may explain where some of Jen's drinkware has gone off to. these are problems money can easily solve. the landlord doesn't need to know. ]

Thanks, but... I'm not sure I could eat right now. [ or keep it down, more like. but she's drained and thirsty and as much as she would like to ignore her body right know she's too conditioned to let things go. ]

I could use my bottle. It's in my bag. [ good ol' Gatorade. and, right by it, Jen has tucked in two cards with codes to redeem items from Retrospec. those she was given a choice on. not this. how fair is that? ]

I'll just. Lay down on the couch.

Got it.

[that's fair, honestly. Lina walks by the mirror and takes another glance at it to make sure nothing's wrong with it, and everything... almost everything looks like how she'd expect. but okay, look, she has to take care of Jen first. this isn't going to be great, her own eyes suddenly turning bluer than any regular person has, but at least Lina rarely makes eye contact when they aren't making out.]

[she gets the Gatorade (made from real gators) and sees the two strange cards there, and even though she knows it's pretty fucking rude to go rooting around in someone's bag without her consent, she grabs those too and heads out to the couch. handing off the bottle with one hand, she fans out the cards in her other and offers them, as well.]

Are these yours, too? They look important.

[guess who's never gotten one.]

[ first things first, Jen reaches up from her lounging posture to take the bottle and absolutely drain what was left of it in one go. her lips are going to be tinged a touch red from all that fruity food coloring, but at least she did that to herself.

when she's done and has the cap back on it, she straight up drops it from her hand onto the floor. Jen sits up rapidly, eyes wide and jaw slack, some form of the earlier panic returns to her voice. forget about the postcards. ]

Oh, no! They got you, too!

[ she cannot reach Lina's face from here, but that doesn't stop her from reaching out because... why? it's not like it would accomplish anything. ]

[yeah, given Jen's earlier reaction she should've expected something like this, but for some reason it didn't strike Lina that sudden appearance changes would freak her roommate out no matter who it was happening to. cool, cool empathy there. she shuts her eyes and sighs and lets a weary sort of smile play on her lips—directed at herself, of course.]

That was fast. I thought you wouldn't notice until the next time we got gay together. [she walks over to where Jen dropped the bottle and picks it up without saying much about it, or about the way her roommate's reaching for her face.] Guess these things really do happen whenever they feel like, huh?

[she's being. really casual about this.]

[ it says a lot about just how disturbed was by all of this when she didn't so much as blink at Lina's joke. she's actually almost as shocked at that than the actual occurrence. ]

How?! [ since Lina seemingly dodged her reach, Jen's hand goes right back to clamping down tightly at the arm above her metal socket. ] You're... you're calm about this...? Don't you care that they did this to you?

[Lina lets her shoulders slump, then puts the Gatorade bottle down on the table and sits down next to Jen. not super close, but close enough for a semi-serious conversation.]

Enough stuff happens to me already that I don't even bother getting surprised about this anymore. [while Lina would love to institute a No Bummers policy for the stuff she talks about, it seems... unrealistic.] Sometimes my bank charges me for not having enough money and I overdraft and they charge me again for that. Sometimes I miss out on an entire shift because the city's gone white and I don't know where work is anymore.

[she looks at Jen and gives a resigned smile, her lips thin and only one corner turned up.] I'm just glad they match my hair now.

[ that's the kind of resignation that just makes Jen wants to ask "who hurt you?" but, in all honesty, she has really good ideas as to the answer already. they've covered that. most of it, anyway.

-and she doesn't know what to say to that. Jen lapsed from having all of the emotions about her own situation to having none when confronted with Lina's swift acceptance of her own. it's true that individuals can perceive the same circumstances in a different light. that's just part of being human. but there should be a certain level of ... cohesion? a standard that certain events elicit similar responses.

in the light of that, Jen can only hang her head and sigh. her own exposition now feels as if it would be more a burden to the both of them than any form of liberation. ] ...sorry.

[the world. her sisters. there are a lot of answers. what matters is who's healing her, and she still doesn't have a complete answer for that one. so now Lina's going to be a little speechless, tilting her head and letting that look morph into a frown.]

Why are you apologizing? We're different people, Jen. [that's kind of been the foundation of their entire... everything together.] We're allowed to have different reactions to things.

[she puts a hand on Jen's leg.]

I don't really give a shit what happens to my body, but you know how bad the memories get me.

[ she doesn't shy away from the touch but she also doesn't seem to react to it. the world around her seems so far away from her internal struggle, which in turn is removed from what Lina was going through. only in bringing up the memories - and subsequently reminding Jen of the dreams - does her focus return to the present. the external. ]

I know, Lina. I know. But - that's what scares me. [ give her two seconds to breathe, yet again, and she'll find her footing amidst her tangled thoughts. ] That they can just do this to us, physically. Change us. It's somehow worse than just showing us things.

[ she thinks to how Vera is so resistant to acknowledge the possibilities of alternate versions of themselves. how Lucy was seemingly vague and distant from her "past". how May's dream splintered off into two seemingly different realities where everyone else's has been singular... ]

They can put thoughts in our head, but we get to decide what to make of it. [ Jen turned her head to point up at her eyes with her left hand. ] We don't get to decide if this is real.

[ then, she raises her right hand and clenches the fingers into a tight fist. ] I don't get to decide what this means.

[Lina has lived most of her life beholden to the wills of others. of things more powerful than her that she could never hope to control. the orphanage, her bosses, the concept of capitalism itself... even Jen, in a way. rent-free can only go so far. everyone's kindness dries up. everyone loses their patience eventually. the only constant in this world is herself.]

[she's heard it called solipsism before, but that seems wrong and she doesn't have the mind to get too into it. the point she's driving at while she looks at Jen's arm and wonders why these things don't bother her as much is that she's... well. she's only gotten surface-level changes. things that can be hidden with contacts and dye. she's allowed to feel like her own body is impermanent, to be fine with whatever happens to it as long as her mind stays intact, because she's the one with the privilege. in this situation, at least.]

[Lina reaches up with the hand that was on Jen's leg and gently touches her right arm. it's hard to put one emotion on her face, and she's suddenly self-conscious about looking directly at her with these eyes that she's not bothered by.]

It is scary. Just because it doesn't bother me doesn't mean it shouldn't. I'm... lucky, you know? [she shouldn't have to explain that. her hand falls; it feels like she doesn't have the right to touch Jen's arm, suddenly.] I'm sorry. I didn't realize how much this affected you.

I know. Just like I didn't imagine you'd be so... I don't know if blase is the right word for it, but. [ she rubbed at the bridge of her nose with her left hand. ] Words aren't working for me right now.

[ Jen hated this tension. she'd smash it if she could get her hands physically on it. there's got to be some way to clear the air but all options are coming up futile if they come to mind at all. ]

I. Look, I know we said we'd talk, and I warned you it could be rough, so I'll give you another chance to back out if you don't want to hear what I've been thinking about.

[that's fine. that's a fair assessment. she's only freaking Jen out more. Lina brings her hands back to her lap and looks at her roommate carefully, avoiding eye contact the entire short time she's speaking.]

I'm not backing out. [she said something wrong, she was reacting wrong, and Jen deserves the chance to let Lina hear her out so they don't end up making assumptions and ruining things.] You can tell me everything you're comfortable telling me.

[and even if it's kind of self-serving, what she's saying, it's such a stark difference from how she used to act towards Jen that it almost surprises her.]

[ deep breath. okay. Lina's going to sit through this, which is something. it feels fair, in a way, as Jen has seen and heard a good bit of what she presumes by now to be Lina's greatest concerns about her other self and what things mean. ]

I've always had trouble talking about it because, well, it's not something even "normal" people have to deal with. [ as she emphasizes the word, she begins to unlatch and detach the arm from its socket. Jen winces as the feed is cut and her nerves scream out in unison about something being wrong before being replaced by that familiar dull, persistent ache.

she places it on the coffee table and just... sort of stares at it for a few long moments. ]

It's probably been obvious, but in case it's not: that isn't a piece of hardware I bought or had some fancy lab drum up for me. That's from Retrospec, too.

[Lina watches, still looking away at the moment Jen pulls her arm off, and only looks back once she hears it get placed on the table. it shouldn't be a new sight for Jen. it probably isn't. way to feel guilty about that one, too, Lina.]

I thought it was. I never... it never felt right to ask you about it.

[when would she have done it? in the middle of making poorly-encoded public tweets about her? before complaining about her on the network to anyone who would listen? god, Lina really is an asshole sometimes. if she knew her roommate had lost her entire arm to the app, maybe she would've freaked out a little more about her eyes.]

To be fair, I feel like something happened with it last year - before you moved in, and before I was taken off the app for months. That's why I'm so used to wearing it now. It's almost natural but it's not mine. It's... hers. Yang's.

[ here's the part where the pieces start to fit in a way that isn't quite right. as Jen starts to explain this part, she takes things one step further and twists at the metal cap that acts as the socket and protective cover for her stump. it comes off with more force, but relatively no pain. the skin from under it is obviously irritated, with dark red indentations where the piece stayed on with the most pressure. it's how she can lift heavy things and such without it coming undone by accident.

the ring and its cap is placed on the table next. Jen leans forward and to the side so she can wipe her stump off a bit against her shorts since it's... kind of sweaty and a little gross, but that's just the cost of wearing it all day. ]

The thing is. I was born without my right forearm. [ a beat. ] Okay, that's not entirely accurate. It was there, it just didn't... work right. Or look right. I've never seen photos, but I peeked at my records once. Nasty stuff. If they hadn't taken it who knows what could have happened to me in the long run.

[ was she looking for something else besides pity with that sob story? maybe so. but it's a long-winded one, and difficult, so she needs a moment to get her bearings again; to make it to the final point. ]

[okay, well. Lina has enough sense to shut herself up and let these just be thoughts, but at least Jen didn't lose an arm because of Retrospec. it kind of... gave her one back? except. hm. shit, she's staring. god, of course she is, of course she is.]

[there's another mental sigh as she knows she can't let it out from her mouth, and she suppresses the urge to shake her head like there's an etch-a-sketch in her brain that she needs to clear out, but she does blink a few more times than usual just before she forces herself to look at Jen's face instead of what's. left of her arm. great.]

You had one before this?

[she has to assume that's what this is leading up to, and in Lina's grand rush to be sensitive, she's kind of blown past everything else, hasn't she? maybe that's. for the best. maybe she shouldn't try to say she's sorry for this. for what happened to her when she was born. Jen probably doesn't want that, right? what good is it going to do?]

[ Jen is the one shaking her head. if there's any feeling at all to how Lina was taking this all in, the questions she might act or the way she might react then it doesn't show on her face.

in fact. nothing really registers at all, there, nor in her tone. Jen's never shut herself down like this around Lina before, and even outside of that it has been a long time, but it's the one coping mechanism that always works and she's always ready to deploy the instant things have reached the state of discomfort too tough to bear.

it's just for a little while, and it may look like it feels awful or she's miserable on the outside, but it's either this or. a breakdown. something else. something drastic. ]

A few, but that's not what I mean. I had this sent in the mail before. Before they gave use postcards with codes on them like they were mail-in gift cards redeemed for prizes. [ she looked aside to the ones Lina had offered her before, wherever they might be. she's not actively seeking Lina's gaze in any fashion. ]

That one was just grey, not painted like this. But it fit me just the same. It... fits, and it works, without any adjustments or any training. That's just - it's impossible. Flat-out.

[ sigh. ] I obviously don't have a complete picture of my other life, but I know this. That girl? I saw her in action. In fights. She was definitely stronger than I could ever work toward in this life and - in most of the memories, which I'm assuming are early ones, she has both her arms.

[ at this point she just sounds deflated. defeated. there's one more last thing but even with this safety net of hers up she doesn't know if she can go through with it. what would sharing even accomplish? it's just more questions, more theories. ]

[that's for the best, that Jen isn't looking to meet Lina's gaze. she still has the cards next to her, on the arm of the couch, but she's not paying attention to them. all her attention is on Jen, and she's never seen her like this before, and it's... if she were more paranoid, or if this were somehow a more intense situation, she'd be worried that she had said something wrong.]

[for now, she's just going to make herself listen instead of trying to say anything. so... Retrospec knew? they knew about Jen's arm. which was also Yang's arm. which also raised the question of how long of a game were they playing? how much of this was part of Retrospec's plan to begin with—how much of her life really is under her control? is she even... is she Lina Geteilt at all? was all this determined for her?]

[well, there's something close to the freakout Jen might have been expecting. Lina leans back and stares forward, her eyes widening. a low voice is all she can muster, and her lips barely move.]

They knew you would need her arm.

Yeah...

[ it's that one word that carries the weight of everything Jen was thinking about. it was the culmination of every bit of self-awareness, introspection, doubt, and fear that she'd been carrying since the first set of memories came rolling in.

most of her fears, anyway. there was another catch. ]

But what if - what if it worked both ways?

[ this is the part where things get messy inside of her head. there's a spark of emotion in her tone, finally. hope? defiance? there's a spark of energy with no immediate outlet. ] Yang lost her arm later in life. Sometime between half my memories and the other. And I don't ... I can't believe that I was born into this world like this just to fit into that. There has to be more to it than that!

[ yep, definitely defiance. Jen's way of looking at the world, of scoffing in the face of concepts such as luck or fate guiding her through life's ups, downs, achievements and losses shining through.

Jen turns to Lina and her eyes are a bright red now. like her favorite rosy lipstick. like simmering embers. a solid contrast to Lina's own brilliant blue. ] I'm mad, Lina! I'm mad as hell that this is happening to me and I refuse to believe that I was made to fit anyone's schemes. I won't allow it! I can't.

[Lina listens, and Lina watches, and she doesn't know if it'll make it better or worse to call out her roommate's changing eye color. she decides to bring that up later; there are more important things to be concerned with. like this fire that's inside Jen that she wasn't entirely sure she knew about until now.]

[the hand that's been resting at her side clenches into a fist against the couch. her eyes aren't glowing or burning, but they're full of more resolve than she's shown in a long time. this fire... it reminds Lina of one that burned inside her up until a few years ago. when she thought it had burned out entirely.]

It's bullshit. You're better than that. Nobody tells you who you are and they're not going to start now.

[but her light had to come from somewhere.]

You're Jen fucking Bowen. Nobody could plan for you.

Yeah. [ Jen nodded along with the affirmation. it felt so good to have Lina on her side in this, because she had started to worry that she was going back on her own word from before; where Jen said they were not allowed to let the other spiral. this whole sequence had come dangerously close to that before Jen could strike back against it. but even with that confidence and support she's not sure that she's given those feelings a knock-out blow just yet. ]

Yeah! You're right!

[ she tucks her leg up onto the couch so she can turn to face Lina with her body too, hand planted in the cushions as she leans in close. ] They can't tell any of us who to be. Not me, and not you. I'm not going to let them decide who we become.

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