(open) i am not a martyr, i'm a problem

[sophielicious]

WHO: sophie cuckoo & others
WHEN: january 9th-11th
WHERE: she'll be at the white palace, in snake island
WHAT: sometimes, you try to get mcdonald's, and you get faced with a gigantic, spikey diamond mansion where you lived with your identical clone sisters and identical gene donor mother. sometimes, that makes you really, really sad.
NOTES\WARNINGS: sophie's stuff tends to consist of the following themes: mutant genocide, cloning, lack of identity and autonomy, enmeshment, toxic sibling relationship, sororicide, codependency, repression, groupthink, self-censorship and low self-esteem. anything related to the above might show up in this log.

@: un. cc, un. Superman2, un. GustaveEiffel, un. Stendhal.

hey, guys, i am not coming to nyx for the next three days, hold the fort out there, alright? chrissy, seriously girl, close at 2pm. don't stay there all day. i'll know if you do, do not test me. and everyone else, if there's an urgent demand, i don't know, think really fucking loud, alright? see you guys in a bit.

(Sophie will not be reachable via earpiece; all messages will bounce back. She can still be spoken to if someone thinks loudly enough while saying her name, like calling on a friend on a loud party, but whether she'll answer is up in the air.)

Comments

telepathic phone + messages here!

[sophielicious]

(i'll add the prompts for the catch-all in the comments, please keep communication here!)

to vigilante

[sophielicious]

/Hey. It's me. You know, your favorite telepathic hot blonde? Remember when you told me to stop moping? Failure. Absolute failure. So.

Do you want to set fire to expensive shit, teach me how to shoot said expensive shit, and drink way too much beer?/

😡

[maellum]

SOPHIE??? What happened?

[sophielicious]

/Oh my God, calm the fuck down, alright? It's just three days. I didn't die or anything./

[maellum]

You're being stranger than usual. What happened? Something happened.

[sophielicious]

/Thank you for calling me weird to my face.

It's fine, Maelle. I just need to rest, ok?/

[maellum]

You're not answering my question. Where are you going?

no answer

[sophielicious]

[maellum]

If I pulled this on you, you'd be rather unhappy.

[sophielicious]

Correction, I'd be livid. Good that I'm the telepath in this equation, right? Literally can't ignore me even if you tried. Life is unfair.

I'm fine, alright? Seriously. I just need a moment to think some shit.

[maellum]

Where are you going to be, at least? I won't go there.

[sophielicious]

/South. Good enough?/

(Maelle, please. Sophie is Sophie, and she hopes you're actually trying to bamboozle her with the pronoun game, because otherwise, that's really disappointing. Thought you were watching closely.)

[maellum]

No.

[sophielicious]

/Tragic. That's what it is.

You're playing the pronoun game, aren't you? Please tell me you've learned something from me./

[maellum]

I don't know what you're talking about.

[sophielicious]

/Cool, me neither, how great is that. Anyway, I'll see you soon and you can make that face you make when I'm back, alright? Just survive it. Cuss me out if you need to or whatever./

[maellum]

Sure.

[Stop reminding her of Verso, Sophie.]

telepathy;

[laserguy]

[Maybe, this time, he doesn't even try to hide his worry. Hard to anyway like this.]

Sophie? What's going on?

[sophielicious]

/... Hey. Nothing major or anything, alright? Just some hivemind bullshit up in my head. I'll be back in three days, you don't have to worry, and I'll talk to you when I'm back./

day one

[sophielicious]

(Welcome to the White Palace, where everything is cold-looking, except for the fireplace that Sophie is resting around with a blanket and an unsettled mind that doesn't really react to her asking it to calm. She's never lived in that school, the one in which she inhabits, — but she did live here. As good as a home as she had ever gotten, and one that she's never going to have again, even if their world is saved. Even if she were ever to go back to the people she called home — they aren't, are they? It's fucked up. At least her place is still pristine, how it used to be, all the belongings in their respective places.

She can nearly hear all the conversations that took place amongst these walls, crisp, clear, and it's really just the sound of her own voice echoing in six. She's lying on the floor, basking in the warmth, and watching the diamonds she picked up from the drawers glow in their spectrals when she feels a presence.

There's a scoff, and she rolls her eyes. She's not in her best of moods.)

Welcome to the White Palace, we're very short-staffed, missing four entire Cuckoos and the White Queen herself. Come back another time.

day two

[sophielicious]

(Oh, it's not a great look. Sophie is exhausted. Sure, she's dressed nicely, wearing a robe and slippers from Dior — she couldn't possibly be sad if she's well-dressed; smelling sweet and floral, and she looks somewhat put together.

Except for the fact she's sleepless in a way that no layer of makeup can conceal. Her soul is nowhere near her body, and unfortunately, the rich smell of coffee doesn't do much to wake her up. The room that she shared with the Cuckoos faces the water; it's peaceful, except for the rattling of snakes in the background and the clinking of her nails against the icy-colored porcelain of her china.

When was the last time she watched a sunrise? Fuck, she doesn't even remember. She's never awake at this time. Can she be morning grumpy if she never even slept? To be seen. Didn't Gustave like to throw rocks? Maybe that'll center her. To the edge of the pier she goes, feet dangling and pink energy gathering the rocks on a pile next to her.

She can see the train, though. Very likely that passangers can spot the psionic energy and the rainbow hair from the distance.)

day three

[sophielicious]

(The place is pretty trashed. Cleaning is not something Sophie is particularly keen on; she's never had to do it much, and yet, while she very much wishes she could just burn the whole thing down, well.

She just can't. Except that's a pretty hard task. So much burned. So much got destroyed. Well, not nearly everything that could be, but enough for it to take her entire day. Mostly, this is, from her point of view, pretty pathetic. Sophie's just staring at the mess, like she's expecting an answer that it can't give.

She could most likely ask for help here. Certainly, someone would fight her to let her allow it; she has way too many nice friends. She could also imagine herself just turning around and leaving out of sheer hatred for manual labor. Makes sense to her, and it's justifiable too, for whatever futile reasoning she can come up with, or, well, she could just do the fucking thing already.

She isn't doing any. Just, well. Staring, for now.)

[demainvient]

[ Despite his own concerns, Gustave gives her the three days.

Of course he's worried. Maelle is upset, Sophie is silent, everything feels strange and a little off, but – she did ask for time, and she's his friend, so he gives it to her.

On the third day, he comes knocking.

Sophie hasn't announced where she went, but he'd seen her the other day from the train window, and between that and the enormous diamond-like structure that had appeared so recently, he has a pretty good guess as to where she went. So that's where he goes, midday on the third day since her message, looking around for a visible entrance. ]

Sophie?

[ He's not calling into her head. She may still want privacy, and if so, he'll be willing to give it to her. ]

I came to see how you were.

[sophielicious]

(She could feel him approach. Whatever Gustave is doing in freaking Snake Island is beyond her — but who knows. Maybe he, too, had the great idea of drowning in fast food when he saw the White Palace and got curious. Something she could figure out very quickly, and yet, she doesn't. Sophie just stares at the mess at her feet, until she is sure that he is there for her, there's very little hiding when someone is calling your name from outside your giant diamond.

Okay. That's weirdly easier to deal with than the mess that she made, that one is stinging — not that him coming to see her doesn't. Okay. She just gives him a telepathic nudge, that she's got it, before she walks to the main entrance and cracks the door open.)

... Hey. I — you know what? Just come in. I'll make us some coffee, you can tell me off for disappearing, making Maelle unhappy, and tell me to go fuck myself forever, okay? Just — coffee first.

(Not that she thinks Gustave would. Not particularly personal, it's just her poor reaction to her own actions. She happens to think her every action is much, much dramatically worse than it actually is — courtesy of the Cuckoos and how they dealt with Sophie, of course.

She sighs, opening the door further, revealing the destruction and gesturing with her head for him to follow.)

Welcome to my home, by the way.

[demainvient]

...

[ He stands in the doorway, letting her rush of words wash over him. They're barbed, but those stinging points aren't actually aimed his way; they're pointed right back toward Sophie herself.

Gustave glances around, taking in the whirlwind of junk and disarray that seems to have hit the inside of this strange structure, and comes in when Sophie invites him. The rest of what she says gets no immediate comment – she's asking to wait on it, so he just walks along with her, companionable, and nods. ]

Coffee sounds great, thanks.

So this is... pretty new, isn't it? Is it from your world?

[sophielicious]

(Even in its messier state, it still gives a certain aura of sophistication. It is a diamond, after all, the blue tones and marbles, the ocean-colored petals on porcelain tiles. There would usually be the sharp click-clack of heels, but today, she's barefoot. The kitchen follows the same high-end, luxury-pretentious design, and she sighs as she grabs the coffee capsules from the cabinet.

She's no less exhausted than she was the day before. Strongly considering illusioning her more rested features to his eyes, due to the fact she is not at all vain and instead, a well-regulated individual.)

Yeah. It's called the White Palace. The Cuckoos, so my sisters and I, and our mum used to live here before Krakoa went down. I don't have it anymore.