notbreakable | (no subject)

It's not like Kimmy isn't used to being stared at.

Back in Durnsville, the first few days after her rescue had been awful. Of course, she was thrilled to be free and to find that the whole world hadn't disappeared, but the photographers and journalists that wanted to know every single detail about her life underground had been less... thrilling.

In New York, she'd mostly blended in after her first day or two having been side-eyed. She was eccentric but for the most part anonymous. And she'd loved every bit of it. No one knew she was a "Mole Woman," that she'd spent the better part of her life in a bunker.

In Darrow, sometimes she gets second glances because her attire kind of resembles that of a third grader, at least in color, or because she's holding the city's cutest baby, but that's it. And that's why it's so surprising that during what should be a pretty normal commute to work, people won't stop looking at her. Some point, even. She checks her teeth, her hair. Nothing out of the ordinary at all.

She's confused but relieved by the time she reaches Brian's place, letting herself in with a big exhale as she moves to lean against the closed door.

[For Truth on Your Back plot, Kimmy has the message that she COULD HAVE ESCAPED on her back. Find her anywhere around Darrow the morning of the 21st or at Brian's if you, you know, live there.]

Threaded | Flat

When Rapunzel sees Kimmy pass by her, she goes to raise a hand in greeting but the words on her back make Rapunzel take pause. It's an odd thing to see, and Rapunzel shakes her head a bit and runs after her.

"Kimmy, wait up!" She calls out, holding her hair up and sharing a baffled look with Pascal as she jogs over. "Um, what's up?"

It had been a long night.

He'd gotten off late from work, and instead of heading out to blow off some steam, he'd come home. Like he had every night for the past few weeks. And it was getting to him. The fucking domesticity of it. He felt like he'd been leashed.

And it had turned him into a real bastard. A bastard who couldn't fucking sleep.

When he stumbled down stairs, he was groggy and moody and looked like the last person you wanted to fuck with. In swept Kimmy, a little less sunny than usual, but she was still a little too much to swallow.

He needed some coffee. And a protein smoothie.

She turned around to shut the door and Brian squinted. "What the fuck is that?" He asked, with absolutely no preamble.

To say that it's been a strange day would be putting it mildly.

Michelle is pretty sure that she was warned about things like this — not specifically, but in a general sense, weird, unexplainable shit, as if showing up here wasn't weird and unexplainable enough — the day she showed up here, but it's hard to be sure. That whole evening is a blur, the panicked state she'd been in when she drove into the city making it difficult to have a clear grasp on anything about it. What she does know is that she's stuck here. Maybe she's outside and there are no visible walls, maybe there's no one keeping her captive, telling her the world ended, but she's just as trapped as she was then, a difficult thing to come to terms with.

There's that, and, of course, she remembers the people who found her that day she got here, who tried to explain everything to her despite how difficult it was for her to hear any of it. Seeing Kimmy, she doesn't need to think twice before heading in her direction. If anything, the strangeness of what's going on around them makes seeing one of the few familiar faces here mean that much more.

"Hey," she says. "Kimmy, yeah?" Then she gets a look at the expression on Kimmy's face, and her brow furrows slightly. Maybe this weird shit has affected her, too; she'd try to see for herself, but it would feel too intrusive. "Are you okay?"