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Entry tags:
(mask or menace) memories
memory one: the horrible one (CW child abuse)
The girl in the mirror looks absolutely nothing like Max does now; the girl is in her mid teens, with straight dark hair and Italian features. What's most striking, though, is the way she holds her hand up to the mirror as a constellation of dots appears on her palm. She winces as it happens, drawing her hand back to herself and looking down at it as the marks fade, but after a moment she regains her composure and focuses on the mirror again.
This time, her eyes change color - another wince - then her hair. The girl takes a shaky breath, clearly trying to steady herself, before her cheekbones shift under her skin, the shape of her face changing. There's no wince this time, because she cries out instead.
This was a mistake, she covers her mouth as soon as the sound escapes, but barely a second later there's a man shoving the door open, Amelia's gaze going directly to him. Looking through her eyes, the man is familiar, and there's a familiar sense of fear associated with him, even as his expression shifts from worried to confused.
"Papa--" The girl's voice is shaking already, her hands on her face like she's trying to cover up the changes she's made, but her father stalks over and pulls her hands away so he can see.
"What is this? What have you done?" He speaks in Italian, but the girl understands.
"It's-- it's a power, Papa, from God, but it hurts. I can't use it," The thoughts are clear in the memory, that hiding something from her father is one thing, but she can't ever lie to him.
The next few moments are nothing but arguments, the girl trying to convince her father of how much shifting hurts, while he tells her how much they could do with it, how helpful she could be, how it doesn't matter how much it hurts. She's crying after ten minutes, scared of not just of the pain, but of the things her father describes (no one could catch an assassin who changes their face, think of how you could help your family), and finally she says no.
She's never told him no before, she's always tried to talk her way out of things without uttering that word, knowing how dangerous it is.
Pain blossoms on her cheek as her father strikes her, then there's more pain as her grabs her by the hair, dragging her out of the room. He's never hurt her like this before, but she's never said no to him before.
"You think that hurts, Amelia? If you don't do what I tell you, I'll show you what can hurt," There's anger in his voice, but it's tightly controlled, cutting even through the haze of Amelia's fear and pain.
Her father throws her against the wall, strikes her again, and when she drops to the ground, he kicks her down the stairs.
The last thing Amelia hears is a woman's voice calling her name, but she doesn't have a chance to respond before the world goes black.
/child abuse warning
memory two: the nice one
"For God's sake, Miss Briest, would you stand still?" The voice comes from behind, as Max looks at herself in a mirror, arms held out to the side as someone sticks pins in her side.
There's a glimpse of red hair in the mirror, mostly hidden by Max's body and the gown she's in.
"Perhaps if you stopped treating me as your personal pincushion, I might be more inclined to stay still," There's amusement in Max's voice, even though her tone is clipped.
Seemingly on purpose, the red haired woman sticks a pin in her side, "I've seen you come in here with gunshot wounds, Ms Briest, how come a little prick bothers you?"
"A lot of little pricks bother me, Emmy."
The other woman - Emmy - dissolves into giggles, as Max tries and fails to keep a straight face; it's nice to hear Emmy laugh, when memories within memories suggest less pleasant things in the woman's past.
"A lady shouldn't talk like that, Ms Briest," The tone is clearly mocking, and as Max looks in the mirror, Emmy sticks her head out to show a grin.
Max scoffs, turning to look down at where Emmy is fussing with the fabric at her hip, "A lady also shouldn't ask for a way to hide her gun in her designer gown, but here we are."
Emmy looks up at her for a moment, seeming to consider that, before she nods, "Point."
The memories fades with the sound of laughter.
The girl in the mirror looks absolutely nothing like Max does now; the girl is in her mid teens, with straight dark hair and Italian features. What's most striking, though, is the way she holds her hand up to the mirror as a constellation of dots appears on her palm. She winces as it happens, drawing her hand back to herself and looking down at it as the marks fade, but after a moment she regains her composure and focuses on the mirror again.
This time, her eyes change color - another wince - then her hair. The girl takes a shaky breath, clearly trying to steady herself, before her cheekbones shift under her skin, the shape of her face changing. There's no wince this time, because she cries out instead.
This was a mistake, she covers her mouth as soon as the sound escapes, but barely a second later there's a man shoving the door open, Amelia's gaze going directly to him. Looking through her eyes, the man is familiar, and there's a familiar sense of fear associated with him, even as his expression shifts from worried to confused.
"Papa--" The girl's voice is shaking already, her hands on her face like she's trying to cover up the changes she's made, but her father stalks over and pulls her hands away so he can see.
"What is this? What have you done?" He speaks in Italian, but the girl understands.
"It's-- it's a power, Papa, from God, but it hurts. I can't use it," The thoughts are clear in the memory, that hiding something from her father is one thing, but she can't ever lie to him.
The next few moments are nothing but arguments, the girl trying to convince her father of how much shifting hurts, while he tells her how much they could do with it, how helpful she could be, how it doesn't matter how much it hurts. She's crying after ten minutes, scared of not just of the pain, but of the things her father describes (no one could catch an assassin who changes their face, think of how you could help your family), and finally she says no.
She's never told him no before, she's always tried to talk her way out of things without uttering that word, knowing how dangerous it is.
Pain blossoms on her cheek as her father strikes her, then there's more pain as her grabs her by the hair, dragging her out of the room. He's never hurt her like this before, but she's never said no to him before.
"You think that hurts, Amelia? If you don't do what I tell you, I'll show you what can hurt," There's anger in his voice, but it's tightly controlled, cutting even through the haze of Amelia's fear and pain.
Her father throws her against the wall, strikes her again, and when she drops to the ground, he kicks her down the stairs.
The last thing Amelia hears is a woman's voice calling her name, but she doesn't have a chance to respond before the world goes black.
/child abuse warning
memory two: the nice one
"For God's sake, Miss Briest, would you stand still?" The voice comes from behind, as Max looks at herself in a mirror, arms held out to the side as someone sticks pins in her side.
There's a glimpse of red hair in the mirror, mostly hidden by Max's body and the gown she's in.
"Perhaps if you stopped treating me as your personal pincushion, I might be more inclined to stay still," There's amusement in Max's voice, even though her tone is clipped.
Seemingly on purpose, the red haired woman sticks a pin in her side, "I've seen you come in here with gunshot wounds, Ms Briest, how come a little prick bothers you?"
"A lot of little pricks bother me, Emmy."
The other woman - Emmy - dissolves into giggles, as Max tries and fails to keep a straight face; it's nice to hear Emmy laugh, when memories within memories suggest less pleasant things in the woman's past.
"A lady shouldn't talk like that, Ms Briest," The tone is clearly mocking, and as Max looks in the mirror, Emmy sticks her head out to show a grin.
Max scoffs, turning to look down at where Emmy is fussing with the fabric at her hip, "A lady also shouldn't ask for a way to hide her gun in her designer gown, but here we are."
Emmy looks up at her for a moment, seeming to consider that, before she nods, "Point."
The memories fades with the sound of laughter.