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State of Grace, State of Sin (IC)


Electra

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Date: March 6th, 2011

((Continued from The Conquering Mind))

"...I'll go, but I won't go there," said Sharl, making his decision quickly. "You and Dragonfly make sure Miss Americana makes it back to the Lab in one piece. I need to...I need to see my friend." And with that, Sharl concentrated, reaching out with the same 'senses' that Miss Americana had downloaded into his mind earlier when she was modifying him for the trip out to Lonely Point, and suddenly he was abruptly gone from Protectron's back, with only a faint echo of radio waves showing what direction he'd gone: not towards the island, but somewhere out in Freedom City.

Elsewhere, Sharl abruptly spilled out of Gina's holoprojectors in the basement, his image fuzzing slightly for a moment from the sheer force of the strain he'd just put himself under. "Gina!" he called out.

The holoprojectors popped him into reality next to the bottom landing of the stairs, and for a moment he couldn't see Gina at all. She wasn't in the chair where he'd left her, hours ago now, in order to deal with a much larger threat to the city and the world. When he took a few steps towards the ring of computers and devices that was her command area, he realized she was still there.

She'd fallen from the chair, tumbling forward to the ground like a large and lifeless doll, tangled in the quilt he'd brought her, with her face turned in his direction. An unpleasant smell indicated she'd probably been deeply unconscious all this time, and she didn't seem about to wake up. Her white face was interrupted by red trails of blood dripping from her nose and the corner of her mouth.

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"Oh sweet [untranslatable], Gina..." He bent down over her, checking her vitals as best his very limited medical training allowed. She seemed healthy enough, for all that he wasn't exactly sure how Earth people were supposed to feel. And surely she couldn't be that healthy, not when she was looking so battered. "What happened? How did your face get-" He remembered what he'd heard on the radio, about the battle and the disabled robot, as well as when he'd been in here earlier. The alien things didn't take her. Everything down here is still intact... "Gina, can you wake up? Please wake up, don't leave me down here alone..."

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The patting and poking seemed to have some effect; after a moment Gina screwed up her face into a grimace and began blinking. Her head was thick and foggy, and the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was Sharl, from way, way too close up. "Hey," she grumbled, her voice slurred. "Can't you take directions? Told you to stay the hell out of combat and just gather intel..." It wasn't until a moment later that she realized, through a head that pounded unmercifully and a body that was a mass of woes, that she was no longer in the form she'd been inhabiting when she gave those instructions.

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Sharl stared at Gina, a rejoinder on his lips for a moment before things began to sink in. But...how? Is she a hologram too? Some kind of person-suit? I don't... "Gina, come on," he said gently, focusing on helping his friend. "I...I couldn't stay away. I needed to help you, just like I need to help you now." He left her for a moment, just long enough to wet a washcloth, and then returned. He dabbed her face with a washcloth, not quite prepared to go further. "You're hurt. Is it from the fall? I can't see any place where your skin is broken..." One thing he knew almost nothing about was human internal anatomy. "And then we can get you cleaned up," he offered. Her robots were on the move now, recognizing him, and he heard water running in the bathroom. Had they seen something like this before? He wasn't sure. How long had it been...well, since whenever Miss Americana had first taken to the skies. He remembered hearing through those lovely lips how frightened Gina would be in public, and how unhappy to have other people's eyes on her.

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Gina sputtered a little, then licked her lips as he wiped her face with the wet washcloth. On closer inspection, it looked as though she'd bitten her lip when she fell out of the chair, though the origins of the nosebleed were still foggy. "I'll be okay," she reassured Sharl in a voice that was scratchy and faint. "Low blood sugar, no caffeine. Hell of a headache. Just give me a minute." She reached out a hand blindly to swipe the pills Emerson gave her, and sucked on the straw the robot proffered, all without opening her eyes again or lifting her head off the floor. "You okay?" she asked Sharl.

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"I'm okay," said Sharl. "I think I owe Star Knight an apology for getting her knocked around. Siren and Captain Thunder managed to ambush Protectron and I before you guys stopped the Mind, I took a few hits. Didn't hurt me any, though. It was a little scary; the Mind said something about recognizing me...probably from one of the minds it conquered, I guess." He looked at Gina, debating her condition, and finally said, "We need to talk, Gina, but not when you're so beat up." She hadn't pushed him when he was on the breaking point, and he owed her that, and much else. "I don't think anyone else suspects anything. Or I don't know...what's Miss Americana doing right now?" He hmmed. Maybe they were talking after all, despite his best intentions. "No one knows I came here. Protectron let me use his radio to send myself into the network, but he wasn't able to trace me, I think."

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For a long time, Gina didn't stir or say anything. Emerson took away the cup and rolled back to his dormant position until called upon again, red LED eyes glowing in the shadows. Sharl began to notice how musty and overwarm the room was, with the air recirculators still shut down. He couldn't tell how much oxygen was in the air, but the environmental conditions couldn't be helping too much. Finally, at least thirty seconds after he'd finished talking, Gina asked, "Sorry, what?"

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"Come on," said Sharl after a moment's hesitation, bending down to scoop Gina up in his arms. She wasn't light, but he was strong, the magnetics in his body making him stronger than he'd ever been on Tronik. "Emerson's going to give you a bath," he suggested, remembering a comment Gina had made once about all the luxuries she'd programmed into the robot, "and I'm going to get you some food. You need to eat, and then maybe sleep. How long have you been awake?" he asked her, still trying to figure out how exactly she did...well, whatever she did that made her Miss Americana and not Gina!

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Gina groaned as the shift in position caused a fresh surge of pain through her battered head. She'd never taken a hit like that before while inhabiting, and it really wasn't pleasant at all. The pain brought clarity though, and she began to struggle to get away, albeit totally ineffectively. "I'll take care of it," she told him, an edge in her voice as she became more away of the grotesque condition she was in. "Only slept three hours last night, and spent way too long... working. I just need a shower and a nap."

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"Gina, you can barely walk," said Sharl, feeling like the adult in the room for a moment. "You haven't eaten anything all day, you're bleeding, and you've been sitting in one spot all day. I'm not going to just leave you on the floor again! Let me at least get you to your bedroom." He headed up the stairs, his footsteps solid thunks as he walked up. No flying through walls and floors on this trip, not that he'd ever been up in Gina's room before. "You have a bath up there, right? You can shower while I make the food."

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"Let me go, let me go, let go," Gina ordered, her voice growing edgier with each repetition. She could feel her heart speeding up and her lungs burning, the all-too-familiar signs that a panic attack was imminent. If she could just get to her room, just be alone, where it was safe, where no one was looking at her and seeing how awful she was, things would be all right. If not, something horrible was going to happen, and even though the rational part of her massive intellect told her that was extremely improbable, it was easily drowned out by the clamor of impulses screaming for her to run. The adrenaline kick added some strength to her attempts to get away, for all Sharl's magnetic-field construction made him inhumanly strong.

Despite her struggling, Sharl was fast, and the house wasn't really that big. Gina's door was standing open for once, making it easier to maneuver her inside. It was a surprisingly austere place for someone who spent most of her time inside her own house, though everything in it spoke to quality and a love of comfort. The bed was rumpled and unmade, but the mattress was a big queen-size pillowtop with new-looking sheets and lots of fluffy pillows, and the blanket that had been pushed aside looked like a down comforter. There was an oversized bookshelf near the shuttered window, containing what looked to be mostly technical and scientific works, along with a decent science-fiction section and a forlorn little gaggle of old romance novels off in one corner. A recliner and reading lamp testified to time spent using the collection, down to a couple of books with markers on a side table. There were a few pieces of framed abstract art on the soft blue walls, and all in all, it was a very nice, very quiet sort of room. A sanctuary. Perhaps in more ways than one, since there didn't seem to be any mirrors or pictures anywhere.

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Sharl's gut twisted at Gina's growing fear, but he pushed past that as he laid her down on top of the sheets. "Emerson!" he called. "Run Gina a shower!" He knew enough about the pipes here to know that you needed to run them a little while to get really hot water, and Gina sounded like she needed a really hot one. He stepped back from the bed, able to tell he was making her upset but not really sure what to do about that. As the robot scuttled past him, he said, "I'm going to go now and make you food," he said, taking a few steps back as he prepared to leave. "I'll be right back, so you can get cleaned up, and we can talk..."

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Gina grabbed for the blanket and pulled it over herself entirely, till she was concealed head-to-toe by its flimsy protection, at least. "Go away!" she yelled. She was certainly cognizant enough to know that she was being awful to someone who was just trying to help her, but nothing was going to get better until he just left her alone! Even if it was only to die in peace, either from the horrible way her entire body felt, or simply of embarrassment. The robot trundled into the room after Sharl, but she didn't care about that. Robots weren't the same.

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Sharl disappeared right through the floor and into a kitchen that he quickly realized he had no idea how to cook in. He briefly panicked, wondering if he should try making a big meal, but soon realized that wasn't what Gina needed at all. He wound up digging out ramen from the kitchen cabinets, heating the water up in a kettle that looked like Darth Vader's helmet. He kept his ears open for Gina, and relaxed when he heard her shower start. Emerson wouldn't have started it without being able to see her, he was sure, which hopefully meant she was actually in it. When he had the ramen prepared, he carried it bare-handed upstairs and sat down in front of Gina's closed door, waiting for the shower to stop.

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Gina waited until she was sure Sharl was gone to get up and lock the door (a futile gesture that was nonetheless reassuring), then stagger into the bathroom. She drank three full glasses of water, which helped quite a bit, then sent Emerson to change the sheets while she took care of all the chores that needed done, as efficiently as possible. Clean and dry, she wrapped her hair in a towel and put on a shapeless old sweatsuit, then went to crawl into the bed her robot had finished freshening up. She was hungry, but what she really wanted was about twenty hours of sleep, interrupted only by painkiller breaks. After that, maybe she'd be ready to deal with her nosy boarder.

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When there was no answer for a while, Sharl knocked on Gina's door. "Gina, are you okay?" he called to her. "I made you chicken ramen with cream cheese!" He didn't know too much about what was healthy to eat, but Gina ate ramen all the time so it had to be okay. Normally she liked it spicy, but he was sure this stuff would be okay. He'd eaten it only a couple of times himself; Gina really didn't like it when he tried to eat things, at least when there wasn't time for him to go outside or into the bathroom to dump it out. He could have just walked in the door, but what would that have done to the food he was trying to get her?

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Gina startled, turning towards the door fast enough to stumble, but was relieved not to see Sharl walking through. She climbed into bed and pulled the fresh covers up over her head, which made her feel marginally better. "Thank you, Sharl," she called in a voice that was almost normal. "Emerson," she commanded the robot, "Open the door and get the bowl from Sharl." The robot trundled obediently to the door and opened it a robot-width, extending its metal hands for the bowl.

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Sharl handed the bowl to Emerson and stuck his head right through the door. "There you go, Gina, it's all I could make." He gave her a worried look, only his upper torso visible through the wooden door. "Is it okay? I tried to make it like you liked it...did the shower help any?" He was doing his best not to bury her with questions, but it wasn't easy when she was usually the smart and capable one. "Tell me if you need the first aid kit."

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Gina didn't see him, which was perhaps just as well since she likely would've been even more upset to see him poking through the door. As it was, all he could see of her was a big green blanket that made her look a bit like a moss-covered rock. "I'm fine," she told him firmly, voice muffled by the layers of fabric. "I just need to rest. A lot of rest. Emerson will take care of me, so just don't worry, okay? Why don't you go see if the people outside are okay now?" Anything to get him out of the house.

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It was light out by the time Sharl got back to the house, or rather, light out again. He'd spent the night flying and walking around Freedom City, helping clean up after the Conquering Mind's possession. There really was a lot of work to do, and he'd been in the best position to do it. Flying over a city full of frightened, hurt people had been a scary experience, but he'd done his best to make it better: he'd flown down to an elementary school and helped stranded kids find their families, he'd helped the cops get people out of wrecked cars, and even helped pull a cat out of a tree! It had been a long night, but a good one; it helped that he didn't really get tired while projecting, and the street lights helped everyone see. By morning, as he flew down through Gina's roof, the long night was over and Freedom City was starting to look back to normal. Not hearing her inside, he knocked on Gina's bedroom door.

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"Yes?" Gina called through the closed bedroom door. She sounded sleepy still, but not as edgy and near-frantic as she'd been when she'd sent him away. Once she'd gotten Sharl out of the house, Gina had shoveled down the ramen and dropped into deep sleep for six or seven hours, which helped take the edge off the aches and pains, as well as restore some order to her thoughts. She could gladly sleep as long again after a snack, but she suspected that wasn't in the cards. With both Sharl and Dragonfly onto her, with her robot far afield and with god knew what happening to it, there were conversations that needed to be had. The thought of that just made her want to pull the covers over her head even more.

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"It's me," said Sharl. He'd steeled himself for this conversation all night, worrying about talking to Gina being as big in his mind as all the superhero stuff he'd done. But he couldn't just let this go; this was big...big enough that it was beyond him. But he was oceans and worlds away from his parents, his friends were all Gina's friends, and Miss A was...well, she was what she was. There was no one here but him to deal with this. "Can I come in?"

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"I'll be out in five minutes," Gina told him, sitting up in bed and raking her fingers through her tangled mess of hair. Going to bed with wet hair made what was usually a frizz control problem more of a stylist's nightmare. "Why don't you go to the basement and wait for me so I can get dressed and stuff." However this conversation might go, there was no possible way she was going to have it in her bedroom, in her pajamas. It was difficult enough to function with Sharl living in the house at all, she couldn't have him in her last sanctuary.

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"I'll be there." Sharl floated down through the floors to Gina's basement, where the holographic projectors clicked on to support his projection. Though the magnetic fields that made up his body could function independently, as had been graphically demonstrated when his mobile emitter had taken a hit in the fight with Electrolux, he still felt much safer with his body supported by electronic signals while he was in this place. He was there, standing on the floor like a perfectly normal person, when Gina finally came downstairs.

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Gina looked a lot more normal than last time Sharl had seen her, which was sort of reassuring. She was wearing one of the bulky and shapeless sweatsuits she preferred, and had pulled her unruly hair back into a tail that got it out of her face. She'd also evidently stopped by the kitchen, since she had a bottle of Mountain Dew, a large sandwich and a bag of Doritos with her. She sat down in her chair, which Emerson had cleaned up while she'd been sleeping, and began booting up her favorite computers. "How does it look out there?" she asked him.

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