Electric Boogaloo



Scene Title Electric Boogaloo
Synopsis Something missing finds its way home after months of being very, very missed.
Date May 28, 2011

Pollepel Island

It was a pleasure to burn.

Months down the road, and Lynette was starting to feel comfortable with this new power. With too many sets of vision in her head. With being able to be everywhere at once. Her coackroachian nature, the desire to survive, took to it quite well. She always had a spare these days. There was less worry about dying, less worry about getting captured, more opportunity to be… reckless.

Of course, there was also three times her usual budget for cigarettes and vodka. What's a gal to do.

It had been months since she had to worry about finding a safe place to discharge or about policing her emotions so she doesn't electrocute someone. It's been a lot easier to lie, in the times when she would have been sparking all over the place. But the truth remained — this power isn't her. It was like wearing someone else's shoes. It might be nice not to be barefoot, but they were broken in by another set of feet. Her don't quite rest well in them.

On the island, she woke up first, but she was the last to get out of bed. The other had had so much breakfast, she felt like she couldn't eat another bite, even though she new she had to all the same. By the time she made it to the dining hall, it was only the stragglers left, picking at the tail end of their meals. She'd greeted a few before sitting at a table by herself.

She likes to eat alone.

But somewhere between bites, she felt it, the familiar burn. She couldn't help the gasp, she hadn't felt it in a while and it… hurt a little, that first hint of what was coming. One moment, she was many. Eyes and ears pouring in information from several places, all feeling like here, like they were in front of her. One moment, she was many. And then she was just one. In a snap. It was so disorienting, she had to fight back vomiting right there in the dining hall. But being keenly aware of what that burn under her skin meant, she pushed herself up from the table and exited. In a hurry. It probably left some odd talk behind her.

She was barely aware of what was around her as the feeling spread, the white heat of her own electricity filling her veins, leaving a buzz in her ear, begging to be let out. But she did manage to get behind her bedroom door before it spilled out of her. The electricity, that is, not her breakfast. And because she was alone and because she hadn't felt this power in so long… she let it flow, leaving scorch marks in the wooden door and burns on the stone, particularly in a pair of hand prints where she braces herself against the floor. And because she was alone, she laughed for the joy of it all, for being whole again, instead of missing a piece and being in pieces. She would have to tell people about this later, but for now…

For now, it was a pleasure to burn.

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