Post by Robb (Owner) on Nov 27, 2024 0:13:53 GMT -8
Freya was waiting outside The Division mansion for her older sister. Dressed in all black with her hair in high pigtails, heavy eyeliner the only makeup on her face and a teddy bear backpack on, she looked in some ways like an overgrown toddler who hadn’t gotten into her mom’s makeup. As she was on the steps waiting, she was hopping up and down the steps to the rhythm of some song she was singing. One foot and then the other she hopped.
It looked similar to a childhood game as she jumped up and down the steps, her pigtails swinging in the wind. She had been settling in quite well, attending a couple of training sessions, and overall she seemed to be keeping up. Her own hurricane style of chaos added to her speed and ferocity during sparring.
Helena leaned against her car, arms crossed, watching Freya bounce up and down like an oversized kid on a sugar rush. She smirked, adjusting the strap of her leather jacket over her shoulder as she made her way toward the mansion. Her studded boots clicked against the pavement, a stark contrast to Freya’s carefree rhythm.
“You know,” Helena called out as she got closer, her voice tinged with amusement, “if someone saw this without knowing you, they’d assume you’re one step away from skipping rope and singing nursery rhymes.”
Stopping at the base of the steps, Helena tilted her head, her black hair cascading over one shoulder. The sharp edge of her eyeliner and crimson lips framed her knowing smirk. “Nice touch with the pigtails, by the way. Very don’t-mess-with-me, but also give-me-candy vibes.”
She extended her hand toward Freya in an exaggerated gesture of help. “Now, are you going to keep jumping around like a caffeinated pogo stick, or are you finally going to show me this room of yours?”
Freya jumped to a stop with a huge grin on her face. Landing on the top step so that she was looking down at her sister as she spoke, Freya made a face at her, sticking out her tongue with emphasis. “I like skipping rope.” As she tilted her head with another huge grin, it was clear she was being playfully petulant toward her big sister in a way that only younger siblings really can.
She let out an exaggerated sigh before she grabbed Helena’s waiting hand and took off running, past the door without even a pause, and down one hallway after another before they reached the bedrooms toward the back of the ground floor. Only then did she finally stop. She had been dragging her sister behind her the entire time, a vice grip on her hand as she ran.
“Okay, Lena, but remember the deal! No kicking my friends!” She turned with an accusatory pointing finger that then turned into her ‘booping’ Helena on the nose.
Helena stumbled slightly as Freya took off, her boots not exactly made for a full sprint indoors, but she let herself be dragged along, laughing under her breath. “Damn it, Freya, slow down!” she called out, though her voice was more amused than annoyed. It was impossible not to catch a little of her younger sister’s infectious energy.
When they finally stopped, Helena leaned against the nearest wall, brushing her black hair out of her face with an exaggerated sigh. Just as she started to catch her breath, Freya spun around with that dramatic finger-point, only to end with a cheeky boop on Helena’s nose. Helena blinked, one eyebrow raising as her smirk slowly returned.
“No kicking your friends, huh?” she repeated, her tone laced with mock seriousness. “Well, that’s disappointing. What am I supposed to do if one of them gives me attitude? Compliment their button eyes? Or just glare at them until the stitching unravels?”
Straightening up, she dusted off her jacket and gestured with a hand. “Alright, let’s see it—your masterpiece of chaos. But I swear, if it’s wall-to-wall teddy bears and glitter, I’m walking out.” She nudged Freya’s shoulder with a smirk, glancing at the teddy bear backpack. “No offense to your entourage, of course.”
Freya immediately pouted, crossing her arms over her chest with a huff before she rolled her eyes at her sister. “Lena, you KNOW I hate glitter!” Her tone was as playful as it had been all along, just a lot louder than it was before.
“And if they’re rude, then they go straight to friendship jail! It’s not okay to not be NICE! Kindness costs nothing.” She repeated the words her grandmother had said on repeat to Freya when she was growing up, always reminding her to use her manners.
Before Helena had a chance to say anything, Freya spun back around and swung her door open. Every wall was lined floor to ceiling with a mix of stuffed animals, various types of dolls, and on the back wall was a large wooden dollhouse. The back of her door was covered in what at first glance looked like a child’s drawings.
But closer inspection would reveal the violent scenes scratched out on paper using crayons and a lot of red paint. Her bed, carefully made, was piled high with stuffed animals too. The only break from the childlike chaos was the long black mirror next to the window. It stretched from floor to ceiling, far longer than a mirror would normally be.
“TADA!” she screeched, jazz hands presenting her room excitedly.
Helena blinked at the sudden outburst, her sister’s louder-than-necessary voice nearly making her step back. She fought to suppress a laugh at Freya’s dramatic insistence about glitter and kindness costing nothing, but her smirk softened into something fonder.
“Right, right, no glitter. My bad. And friendship jail, huh? Sounds intense. Hope they’ve got decent snacks in there,” she teased, adjusting her jacket as Freya spun around to throw open the door with theatrical flair.
Stepping inside, Helena froze mid-step, her sharp eyes taking in the room’s... unique decor. Her mouth opened slightly, but no words came out at first. Stuffed animals of every size and color filled the walls like some sort of fuzzy army, their glassy eyes staring her down. The dollhouse was the cherry on top of this chaotic shrine to childhood.
Then, her gaze landed on the back of the door. At first, it seemed innocuous—just some crayon drawings. But a closer look made her brows shoot up. The jagged lines, splashes of red, and unsettling, violent imagery scratched into paper had her tilting her head. “What the—”
She didn’t get far before her gaze was drawn to the mirror, tall and foreboding against the wall, completely out of place in the childlike madness. It sent a chill down her spine, though she wasn’t sure why.
When Freya screeched her “TADA!” complete with jazz hands, Helena finally snapped out of it, crossing her arms again as she let out a low whistle. “Well. This is... something,” she said, her voice dry but not unkind. Her gaze flicked back to the bed piled high with stuffed animals, then to the drawings on the door.
“You’ve really leaned into your whole... ‘chaos tornado’ thing, huh?” Her smirk returned, though her eyes lingered on the red-streaked crayon drawings for a moment longer. “Love what you’ve done with the place. Though, uh... should I be worried about these little masterpieces of yours?” She gestured to the door, her tone teasing but her curiosity genuine.
Freya pushed the door all the way closed so she could inspect her artwork properly, pointing her fingers to random stick people as she excitedly explained what they were doing, all of which was incredibly violent.
“And that one is getting his head chopped off with giant scissors like Edward Scissorhands but only the scissors aren’t his hands! And THAT one is eating her own hand ‘cause she was left alone and she’s reaaaaalllly hungry and that one—”
She paused, looking back at her sister and noting her increasingly worried expression. Freya laughed in a very forced way before she shrugged. “Doc Lewis said I should draw the thoughts out of my head so they don’t take up so much room.” As she said that, her tone was very calm, stripped of her usual bouncy joviality. But then she broke out into a smile and dashed across to the other side of the room, pointing to the mirror.
“And this is so I don’t ever get lonely! Never ever again!” Her singsongy voice was back to its excited pitch as she practically sung out the last few words.
Helena watched, her face a mix of shock and reluctant fascination, as Freya enthusiastically narrated the carnage she’d drawn. The vivid explanations—complete with gleeful pointing—were something else. Helena opened her mouth to say something, but then Freya turned, noticed her expression, and forced out that awkward laugh.
The mention of Doc Lewis and Freya’s calm tone sent a ripple of unease through Helena. Her smirk faltered, replaced by something softer, something more careful. She didn’t push, though. Not yet.
“That’s… one way to deal with things,” she said, keeping her tone light but not dismissive. “Pretty creative, I’ll give you that. Remind me not to tick you off, though—I don’t want to end up as one of your stick figures.”
Before Helena could linger on the shift in Freya’s mood, her little sister bounded over to the mirror, yanking her back into the whirlwind that was Freya’s energy. Helena followed more slowly, her boots crunching softly on the floor, and stopped just behind her.
“You got a mirror to keep you company?” Helena echoed, tilting her head as she studied the tall, ominous piece of glass. She placed her hands on her hips, the edge of her jacket brushing against her sides. “That’s… a little creepy, even for you, Freya. Are you expecting it to start talking back? Like some kind of evil twin situation?”
Her smirk crept back as she lightly bumped Freya’s shoulder. “Or is it more of a Snow White deal? Practicing your ‘who’s the fairest of them all?’ routine for when you dethrone me as best-dressed sibling?” Helena’s tone was playful, but her sharp eyes flicked between the mirror and Freya, trying to read her.
Freya looked at her sister wordlessly for far too long, blinking as though she was waiting for the other shoe to drop, before she shook her head.
“No, it’s so when you leave again I won’t be alone.” That serious, soft tone was back, the smile that had been on her face slipping, and a solemn air fell over her for a moment.
She didn’t say anything else, turning to look at her sister via the reflection in the mirror. She lifted a hand up and blocked out Helena’s face in the reflection as if to show her what she meant.
Helena’s heart clenched at Freya’s words, the solemn tone cutting through the usual whirlwind of her energy. She watched as her little sister lifted her hand to block out her reflection in the mirror, and for a moment, all of Helena’s usual snark and edge dissolved.
Without saying a word, Helena stepped forward and wrapped Freya in a tight hug from behind, her arms encircling her little sister protectively. She rested her chin lightly on Freya’s shoulder, her voice soft but firm.
“Hey,” she said gently, giving her a little squeeze. “I’m not leaving, okay? Not yet. I’ll stick around for a bit, help you get used to this place—until you’re comfortable. You won’t be alone.”
Helena leaned back slightly, turning Freya around to face her, her hands resting on her shoulders. “You’re stuck with me for now, alright? I’ll even keep my boots on so you know I’m not sneaking off,” she added with a small smile, trying to lighten the moment.
She tilted her head, searching Freya’s face. “Sound like a deal?”
Freya’s hands moved to hold onto Helena’s arms as they enveloped her. She kept her eyes on their reflection, smiling in a sort of sad way that was infinitely more genuine than the crazed smile she usually wore. For just a moment, Freya was seven years old again and her big sister was her best friend.
Then she closed her eyes for a blink or two, and when she opened them again, her smile became something wider and more exaggerated. Practically screeching out an “OKAY!” she nodded enthusiastically.
“I haven’t made any new friends yet! Everyone was busy getting ready for the party! But if you’re here, then we can have a party of our own?” And with that, she sat down, dragging Helena with her and almost sitting on her with a wild giggle, genuine glee breaking through. She kissed her sister on the cheek, making a loud MWAH sound as she did, finally looking her directly in the eyes.
“Thank you.”
Helena couldn’t help but grin as Freya clung to her arms, that rare, genuine smile tugging at her own heart. It was a glimpse of the little sister she remembered, the one who used to follow her around, full of trust and admiration. For a brief second, everything felt simple again, just like it had when they were kids.
And then, as quickly as it came, the moment shifted. Freya’s exaggerated screech startled a laugh out of Helena before she found herself unceremoniously yanked to the floor. “Whoa, okay!” Helena exclaimed, laughing as she caught herself, nearly toppling over when Freya practically sat on her.
The loud MWAH on her cheek and Freya’s wild giggle broke through any chance of keeping a straight face. Helena burst into laughter, shaking her head as she reached up to wipe the exaggerated kiss mark off her cheek.
“You’re a menace,” she said fondly, pulling Freya into a playful side hug. “But yeah, let’s have our own party. Just you and me.”
When Freya looked at her, Helena caught the shift—the sincerity in her sister’s eyes as she said those two simple words. Helena softened, brushing a stray strand of hair away from Freya’s face. “You’re welcome, kid,” she said quietly. “Always.”
Then, with a teasing smirk, she ruffled Freya’s pigtails. “But if you kiss me on the cheek again, you’re going straight to sibling jail. Rules are rules, after all.”
Freya gasped dramatically, her hand shooting up to her chest as if she’d just been mortally offended. “Sibling jail?!” she cried, her voice a mix of mock horror and delight. “You wouldn’t dare! Besides, you’d miss me too much.”
She grinned mischievously and booped Helena’s nose again for good measure, then jumped to her feet with renewed energy. “Alright, big sis, let’s see if you can keep up with me. It’s time for a Freya-style party!”
Helena groaned, standing up more slowly and dusting off her jacket. “A Freya-style party, huh? I’m scared already,” she teased, though her smirk betrayed her affection. “Just… promise me there’s no glitter, okay? I’ve got limits, you know.”
“No glitter!” Freya declared, spinning on her heel and dramatically throwing her arms out. “But there will be chaos, Lena. Beautiful, perfect chaos!”
Helena laughed, shaking her head as she followed her little sister out of the room. Whatever Freya had in store, one thing was certain: life was never boring with her around.
It looked similar to a childhood game as she jumped up and down the steps, her pigtails swinging in the wind. She had been settling in quite well, attending a couple of training sessions, and overall she seemed to be keeping up. Her own hurricane style of chaos added to her speed and ferocity during sparring.
Helena leaned against her car, arms crossed, watching Freya bounce up and down like an oversized kid on a sugar rush. She smirked, adjusting the strap of her leather jacket over her shoulder as she made her way toward the mansion. Her studded boots clicked against the pavement, a stark contrast to Freya’s carefree rhythm.
“You know,” Helena called out as she got closer, her voice tinged with amusement, “if someone saw this without knowing you, they’d assume you’re one step away from skipping rope and singing nursery rhymes.”
Stopping at the base of the steps, Helena tilted her head, her black hair cascading over one shoulder. The sharp edge of her eyeliner and crimson lips framed her knowing smirk. “Nice touch with the pigtails, by the way. Very don’t-mess-with-me, but also give-me-candy vibes.”
She extended her hand toward Freya in an exaggerated gesture of help. “Now, are you going to keep jumping around like a caffeinated pogo stick, or are you finally going to show me this room of yours?”
Freya jumped to a stop with a huge grin on her face. Landing on the top step so that she was looking down at her sister as she spoke, Freya made a face at her, sticking out her tongue with emphasis. “I like skipping rope.” As she tilted her head with another huge grin, it was clear she was being playfully petulant toward her big sister in a way that only younger siblings really can.
She let out an exaggerated sigh before she grabbed Helena’s waiting hand and took off running, past the door without even a pause, and down one hallway after another before they reached the bedrooms toward the back of the ground floor. Only then did she finally stop. She had been dragging her sister behind her the entire time, a vice grip on her hand as she ran.
“Okay, Lena, but remember the deal! No kicking my friends!” She turned with an accusatory pointing finger that then turned into her ‘booping’ Helena on the nose.
Helena stumbled slightly as Freya took off, her boots not exactly made for a full sprint indoors, but she let herself be dragged along, laughing under her breath. “Damn it, Freya, slow down!” she called out, though her voice was more amused than annoyed. It was impossible not to catch a little of her younger sister’s infectious energy.
When they finally stopped, Helena leaned against the nearest wall, brushing her black hair out of her face with an exaggerated sigh. Just as she started to catch her breath, Freya spun around with that dramatic finger-point, only to end with a cheeky boop on Helena’s nose. Helena blinked, one eyebrow raising as her smirk slowly returned.
“No kicking your friends, huh?” she repeated, her tone laced with mock seriousness. “Well, that’s disappointing. What am I supposed to do if one of them gives me attitude? Compliment their button eyes? Or just glare at them until the stitching unravels?”
Straightening up, she dusted off her jacket and gestured with a hand. “Alright, let’s see it—your masterpiece of chaos. But I swear, if it’s wall-to-wall teddy bears and glitter, I’m walking out.” She nudged Freya’s shoulder with a smirk, glancing at the teddy bear backpack. “No offense to your entourage, of course.”
Freya immediately pouted, crossing her arms over her chest with a huff before she rolled her eyes at her sister. “Lena, you KNOW I hate glitter!” Her tone was as playful as it had been all along, just a lot louder than it was before.
“And if they’re rude, then they go straight to friendship jail! It’s not okay to not be NICE! Kindness costs nothing.” She repeated the words her grandmother had said on repeat to Freya when she was growing up, always reminding her to use her manners.
Before Helena had a chance to say anything, Freya spun back around and swung her door open. Every wall was lined floor to ceiling with a mix of stuffed animals, various types of dolls, and on the back wall was a large wooden dollhouse. The back of her door was covered in what at first glance looked like a child’s drawings.
But closer inspection would reveal the violent scenes scratched out on paper using crayons and a lot of red paint. Her bed, carefully made, was piled high with stuffed animals too. The only break from the childlike chaos was the long black mirror next to the window. It stretched from floor to ceiling, far longer than a mirror would normally be.
“TADA!” she screeched, jazz hands presenting her room excitedly.
Helena blinked at the sudden outburst, her sister’s louder-than-necessary voice nearly making her step back. She fought to suppress a laugh at Freya’s dramatic insistence about glitter and kindness costing nothing, but her smirk softened into something fonder.
“Right, right, no glitter. My bad. And friendship jail, huh? Sounds intense. Hope they’ve got decent snacks in there,” she teased, adjusting her jacket as Freya spun around to throw open the door with theatrical flair.
Stepping inside, Helena froze mid-step, her sharp eyes taking in the room’s... unique decor. Her mouth opened slightly, but no words came out at first. Stuffed animals of every size and color filled the walls like some sort of fuzzy army, their glassy eyes staring her down. The dollhouse was the cherry on top of this chaotic shrine to childhood.
Then, her gaze landed on the back of the door. At first, it seemed innocuous—just some crayon drawings. But a closer look made her brows shoot up. The jagged lines, splashes of red, and unsettling, violent imagery scratched into paper had her tilting her head. “What the—”
She didn’t get far before her gaze was drawn to the mirror, tall and foreboding against the wall, completely out of place in the childlike madness. It sent a chill down her spine, though she wasn’t sure why.
When Freya screeched her “TADA!” complete with jazz hands, Helena finally snapped out of it, crossing her arms again as she let out a low whistle. “Well. This is... something,” she said, her voice dry but not unkind. Her gaze flicked back to the bed piled high with stuffed animals, then to the drawings on the door.
“You’ve really leaned into your whole... ‘chaos tornado’ thing, huh?” Her smirk returned, though her eyes lingered on the red-streaked crayon drawings for a moment longer. “Love what you’ve done with the place. Though, uh... should I be worried about these little masterpieces of yours?” She gestured to the door, her tone teasing but her curiosity genuine.
Freya pushed the door all the way closed so she could inspect her artwork properly, pointing her fingers to random stick people as she excitedly explained what they were doing, all of which was incredibly violent.
“And that one is getting his head chopped off with giant scissors like Edward Scissorhands but only the scissors aren’t his hands! And THAT one is eating her own hand ‘cause she was left alone and she’s reaaaaalllly hungry and that one—”
She paused, looking back at her sister and noting her increasingly worried expression. Freya laughed in a very forced way before she shrugged. “Doc Lewis said I should draw the thoughts out of my head so they don’t take up so much room.” As she said that, her tone was very calm, stripped of her usual bouncy joviality. But then she broke out into a smile and dashed across to the other side of the room, pointing to the mirror.
“And this is so I don’t ever get lonely! Never ever again!” Her singsongy voice was back to its excited pitch as she practically sung out the last few words.
Helena watched, her face a mix of shock and reluctant fascination, as Freya enthusiastically narrated the carnage she’d drawn. The vivid explanations—complete with gleeful pointing—were something else. Helena opened her mouth to say something, but then Freya turned, noticed her expression, and forced out that awkward laugh.
The mention of Doc Lewis and Freya’s calm tone sent a ripple of unease through Helena. Her smirk faltered, replaced by something softer, something more careful. She didn’t push, though. Not yet.
“That’s… one way to deal with things,” she said, keeping her tone light but not dismissive. “Pretty creative, I’ll give you that. Remind me not to tick you off, though—I don’t want to end up as one of your stick figures.”
Before Helena could linger on the shift in Freya’s mood, her little sister bounded over to the mirror, yanking her back into the whirlwind that was Freya’s energy. Helena followed more slowly, her boots crunching softly on the floor, and stopped just behind her.
“You got a mirror to keep you company?” Helena echoed, tilting her head as she studied the tall, ominous piece of glass. She placed her hands on her hips, the edge of her jacket brushing against her sides. “That’s… a little creepy, even for you, Freya. Are you expecting it to start talking back? Like some kind of evil twin situation?”
Her smirk crept back as she lightly bumped Freya’s shoulder. “Or is it more of a Snow White deal? Practicing your ‘who’s the fairest of them all?’ routine for when you dethrone me as best-dressed sibling?” Helena’s tone was playful, but her sharp eyes flicked between the mirror and Freya, trying to read her.
Freya looked at her sister wordlessly for far too long, blinking as though she was waiting for the other shoe to drop, before she shook her head.
“No, it’s so when you leave again I won’t be alone.” That serious, soft tone was back, the smile that had been on her face slipping, and a solemn air fell over her for a moment.
She didn’t say anything else, turning to look at her sister via the reflection in the mirror. She lifted a hand up and blocked out Helena’s face in the reflection as if to show her what she meant.
Helena’s heart clenched at Freya’s words, the solemn tone cutting through the usual whirlwind of her energy. She watched as her little sister lifted her hand to block out her reflection in the mirror, and for a moment, all of Helena’s usual snark and edge dissolved.
Without saying a word, Helena stepped forward and wrapped Freya in a tight hug from behind, her arms encircling her little sister protectively. She rested her chin lightly on Freya’s shoulder, her voice soft but firm.
“Hey,” she said gently, giving her a little squeeze. “I’m not leaving, okay? Not yet. I’ll stick around for a bit, help you get used to this place—until you’re comfortable. You won’t be alone.”
Helena leaned back slightly, turning Freya around to face her, her hands resting on her shoulders. “You’re stuck with me for now, alright? I’ll even keep my boots on so you know I’m not sneaking off,” she added with a small smile, trying to lighten the moment.
She tilted her head, searching Freya’s face. “Sound like a deal?”
Freya’s hands moved to hold onto Helena’s arms as they enveloped her. She kept her eyes on their reflection, smiling in a sort of sad way that was infinitely more genuine than the crazed smile she usually wore. For just a moment, Freya was seven years old again and her big sister was her best friend.
Then she closed her eyes for a blink or two, and when she opened them again, her smile became something wider and more exaggerated. Practically screeching out an “OKAY!” she nodded enthusiastically.
“I haven’t made any new friends yet! Everyone was busy getting ready for the party! But if you’re here, then we can have a party of our own?” And with that, she sat down, dragging Helena with her and almost sitting on her with a wild giggle, genuine glee breaking through. She kissed her sister on the cheek, making a loud MWAH sound as she did, finally looking her directly in the eyes.
“Thank you.”
Helena couldn’t help but grin as Freya clung to her arms, that rare, genuine smile tugging at her own heart. It was a glimpse of the little sister she remembered, the one who used to follow her around, full of trust and admiration. For a brief second, everything felt simple again, just like it had when they were kids.
And then, as quickly as it came, the moment shifted. Freya’s exaggerated screech startled a laugh out of Helena before she found herself unceremoniously yanked to the floor. “Whoa, okay!” Helena exclaimed, laughing as she caught herself, nearly toppling over when Freya practically sat on her.
The loud MWAH on her cheek and Freya’s wild giggle broke through any chance of keeping a straight face. Helena burst into laughter, shaking her head as she reached up to wipe the exaggerated kiss mark off her cheek.
“You’re a menace,” she said fondly, pulling Freya into a playful side hug. “But yeah, let’s have our own party. Just you and me.”
When Freya looked at her, Helena caught the shift—the sincerity in her sister’s eyes as she said those two simple words. Helena softened, brushing a stray strand of hair away from Freya’s face. “You’re welcome, kid,” she said quietly. “Always.”
Then, with a teasing smirk, she ruffled Freya’s pigtails. “But if you kiss me on the cheek again, you’re going straight to sibling jail. Rules are rules, after all.”
Freya gasped dramatically, her hand shooting up to her chest as if she’d just been mortally offended. “Sibling jail?!” she cried, her voice a mix of mock horror and delight. “You wouldn’t dare! Besides, you’d miss me too much.”
She grinned mischievously and booped Helena’s nose again for good measure, then jumped to her feet with renewed energy. “Alright, big sis, let’s see if you can keep up with me. It’s time for a Freya-style party!”
Helena groaned, standing up more slowly and dusting off her jacket. “A Freya-style party, huh? I’m scared already,” she teased, though her smirk betrayed her affection. “Just… promise me there’s no glitter, okay? I’ve got limits, you know.”
“No glitter!” Freya declared, spinning on her heel and dramatically throwing her arms out. “But there will be chaos, Lena. Beautiful, perfect chaos!”
Helena laughed, shaking her head as she followed her little sister out of the room. Whatever Freya had in store, one thing was certain: life was never boring with her around.