[Plot] The Loneliest Person That I've Ever Known ((open))

[Miriam Bell]

"No. Yes... It's all inside out and upside down."

[Wanda Johansson]

"Yes, I can see that," Wanda says, moving closer to Miriam. She holds up her hands towards Miriam's face, stopping short of touching, "May I? And can you tell me what you were doing before you ended up here?"

[Miriam Bell]

Miriam looks more than a little hesitant, but doesn't shy away.

"Thinking. On the roof. About my screwups. Lost track of time and myself and when the sun came up I took a right tumble through the looking glass."

[Wanda Johansson]

"And may have brought it to the real world. Or maybe I did, hard to say," Wanda says, resting her hands on Miriam's cheeks and looking carefully at her eyes.

[Miriam Bell]

Miriam's eye are unfocused, pupils dilated and although they narrow just slightly, indicating that she sees Wanda on some level, she's not all the way there.

"No. No, don't blame yourself. You pushed it away, maybe even sealed it off. I can feel it coming forward through me..."

[Wanda Johansson]

"So it might come back," Wanda muses, "How do I look to you right now?"

[Miriam Bell]

"Lovely as always."

[Wanda Johansson]

"That's... flattering," she says after a moment's pause, "But I mean, what am I wearing? What am I carrying?" In reality, Wanda was wearing jeans and a soft sweater with sweater's right arm currently pushed up. She had a messenger bag slung across her body. But she wasn't confident that that's what Miriam was seeing. It might very well be the blue-green robed "earth mother" look that she had had in Miriam's head.

[Miriam Bell]

"Jeans, sweater. Pretty basic, but you pull it off..."

[Wanda Johansson]

"Okay, so at least you're seeing physical me, even if you are a bit unfocused at the moment," Wanda says, pulling her hands back from Miriam's face. She puts her hands on her hips and looks around. "So, we may have to go through, what did you call it? The Charnel? to get out of this... unless whatever this is travels with you."

[Miriam Bell]

"I don't know..." she admits, although at the mention of the Charnel there's a noticeable shadow that falls across the room as curtains fall closed over the windows and sag with a sudden moisture that seems to permeate them out of nowhere. The drops that gather at the curtain's hems are too dark to just be water. Whatever this is, it's clearly tied to Miriam's thoughts and feelings in some way. Compared to her relative calm when their surroundings were taken from the Cottage or the Chapel she's now fidgeting, her left thumb nervously flicking at the fingernail on her pinkie. "No. No no no..."

[Wanda Johansson]

"I'm here, Miriam," Wanda reassures, turning to face the room and putting her back to Miriam. "Whatever it is, we can deal with it." She pushes up her other sleeve and, without seeming to think about it, steps out of her shoes.

[Miriam Bell]

"It's me! All of this. It's always been me... I'm my own worst enemy." she says as she squats down and wraps her arms around her knees. The blood dripping from the curtains is beginning to form little puddles.

[Wanda Johansson]

Wanda turns again, kneeling down next to Miriam. She's not sure what to say to that because she doesn't really disagree with Miriam's overall assessment. At one time, she really cared for Miriam and then things got jumbled. And somewhere inside, she still cares, in spite of the betrayal and manipulation. Maybe she doesn't care the way she did before, but this is her friend, even if they have been angry with each other and apart. So, after a moment of silence, she reaches out her marked hand and touches Miriam's face gently. "We can deal with that too," she whispers soothingly.

[Miriam Bell]

"I'm so sorry... For everything I put you through. For always thinking I knew better."

[Wanda Johansson]

Wanda's thumb brushes Miriam's cheek just under her eye, "I'm still working to forgive you for that, but thank you." It's heartfelt, as far as acceptances go. And it's true. She still hasn't quite forgiven Miriam for it and sees no point in lying to her about it, but the admission is a proper dressing for an old wound.

[Miriam Bell]

"How do you do this... Care so much without all the hurt?"

[Wanda Johansson]

"No, it hurts. It hurts a lot sometimes." She takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly, "But I told you before, hate is a poison. If I don't let it go, it taints me, kills who I *am*, and worse, it spreads from me to those I interact with. And so I have to release it, find ways to purge it from my system." She smiles sadly, "I don't always succeed right away, and sometimes it takes longer than others. But that doesn't mean I can stop trying."

[Miriam Bell]

"The world would be a better place if more people were like you."

[Wanda Johansson]

What does one say to that? Yes is ego. No is a lie. "Maybe," she finally decides, "but everyone has to make their own choice, I can't make it for them. I can't make the choice for you. I can only be me." She pushes up her other sleeve. "You doing okay? Do you need to eat?"

[Miriam Bell]

"Always. But not... overwhelmingly so."

The small puddles of blood dripping from the curtains run along the gaps of the stone tiles on the floor but stop when little tufts of grass and moss bloom to staunch them.

[Wanda Johansson]

"Alright. You let me know if it starts to get serious. I can spare some to keep you even." She glances at the floor, smiling at the plants appearing. "How're you feeling?"

[Miriam Bell]

"Off-kilter. You know how a dream feels like the moment you wake up? Vague, flimsy, like it'll slip through your fingers if you hold it too firm or loose?"

[Wanda Johansson]

"Well, that is a fitting description of whatever seems to be going on. Maybe reality's mirroring that for some reason? After that weird dimensional incursion or whatever it was, this area might be a bit moldable."

[Miriam Bell]

"No... the same happened when I took whatever that drug was. Just... smaller and I wasn't really paying attention and... Fuck, what exactly was in that stuff?"

[Wanda Johansson]

"I... can't say," Wanda says, "Didn't the person who sold it to you tell you what it was?"

[Miriam Bell]

"I didn't buy it, we just took it together... Some kind of mutant drug. She said it brings out powers... more."

[Wanda Johansson]

Wanda looks around, "I suppose that's what this could be. Like those secondary mutations I've heard about." She puts her hand back on Miriam's cheek, "But either way, we'll get it figured out, right?"

[Miriam Bell]

"I have enough trouble dealing with it right now..."

[Wanda Johansson]

"What do you mean? I mean, other than the immediately obvious reality adjusting itself."

[Miriam Bell]

"Not letting it slip between my fingers. You, reality, that's what feels like the dream."

[Wanda Johansson]

"So we've got to find some way to bring you back to earth so you don't get lost," Wanda says, fishing in her bag and hoping for some inspiration to strike her. "Unless we can somehow get that drug out of your system or at least get it tamped down."

[Miriam Bell]

"Just take out all my blood. What's the worst that could happen." she says in a rare instance of not actually sounding sarcastic but rather disturbingly detached about it.

[Wanda Johansson]

It takes Wanda a moment to process the lack of sarcasm. "Well, I would imagine you would get very hungry. Do you think you could keep it in check enough if you fed a bit from me afterwards?"

[Miriam Bell]

"No. I assumed I might pass out and d--perish. Now I'm not sure which would be worse."

[Wanda Johansson]

Wanda frowns, "I suppose either could be a possibility. I wonder if we could feed you more and dilute what's in your system?" She runs her free hand across her face. "I mean, we can't leave you like this, I don't think."

[Miriam Bell]

"I'm not drinking your blood, Wanda."

[Wanda Johansson]

"Okay. I'm just trying to help," she says, standing up and walking up and down the hallway again to see how it responds.

[Miriam Bell]

"I know. But it'd be too tempting." she says, looking down at the floor rather than Wanda.

The effect of the transplanted architecture seems to peter further down the hallway, Chapel turning back into regular wood-paneled hallway.

[Wanda Johansson]

"Well, there seems to be a somewhat definite limit to how far it's stretching. And it may be moving with you," she says, shrugging and turning around to come back to Miriam. "How about we keep walking and see what we find? Sitting here isn't going to get us anywhere."