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Sister Grimm
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I am a great biotic wind that will sweep all before me like a... a great wind! A great biotic wind!
[ *  * ]
Alice felt numb. Well, she didn't feel anything, but that was numb. Well, she didn't feel anything outside a faint ache in her chest. But she really didn't want to think about that now. Didn't want to think about anything actually. Because that would sooner or later, much more likely sooner, lead back to Vic. Vic, who Alice had trusted with her life, Vic, who Alice would have gladly died for, running away. God, she hoped it was something as simple as that. Fear, while not exactly a ray of sunshine, was understandable. At least it wasn't like Vic was waiting for a chance to leave. Right?

All the same, feelings of abandonment and guilt managed to push through that comfortable numbness. Now that she was over that initial shock of finding that her love was gone, her mind had time to run wild with ideas concerning the why. Maybe she saw Alice as an albatross? A weakness, or a liability? Someone to be taken advantage of, then tossed aside? It was funny, in a way that wasn't funny in the least. Vic had promised that she wouldn't leave. She hadn't, to be fair. Not in the way she meant at the time. That was little consolation, though.

Bounce was speaking, then. Alice made herself listen, even if all she wanted to do was find Vic. Logical, reliable Bounce. Now, Bounce was great. Alice liked her, loved her even. She was, after all, her only friend in the world. But that part of Alice that wasn't M.I.A. wondered if Bounce would die to throw in some compassion? Alice listened, her eyes drifting back to the street where they'd left Vic. Logical, reliable Bounce. Always planning, always thinking ahead. Even if Alice was holding out for a reassuring word, she would concede that it was appreciated that Bounce at least had her head in the game.

But that wouldn't do, would it? Bounce might be the brains of that outfit, but Alice was the muscle. She couldn't just coast along, no matter how much she might want to. Vic was, Vic was gone. On her own. Bounce was right, naturally. She'd left of her own accord, and she knew exactly what she was doing. It wouldn't do any good to go looking after her. She clearly didn't want to be found. As worried as Alice was about her safety, at least she was armed. There were 5 bullets left in the revolver, so at least she wasn't defenseless.

Alice looked away from the street and back to Bounce, offering a slight nod. She was, if not 100%, ready to move on. More then ready to get the hell out of here. "The sawmill sounds fine."

Before falling into step next to Bounce, Alice cast one last look over her shoulder at the street. She was hoping to see Vic walking towards them, guilty and feeling a change of heart. But, of course, no. Vic was gone, probably long gone by the time Alice noticed. It was the best she could do to hope that they might be up again in the future. For now, it was Alice and Bounce. Survival of the Fittest, look out.

((Alice Blake, continued in Make Your Own Kind of Music))
"There are, it has been said, two types of people in the world. There are those who, when presented with a glass that is exactly half full, say: this glass is half full. And then there are those who say: this glass is half empty. The world belongs, however, to those who can look at the glass and say: What's up with this glass? Excuse me? Excuse me? This is my glass? I don't think so. My glass was full! And it was a bigger glass" -Terry Pratchett, The Truth

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