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[strangeandunusual]

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SMK - A letter slipped under a door

[not_so_different]

[In early October, Lydia will find an envelope slipped under the door of wherever she's staying these days. It has her name written on it in fine calligraphy. Inside is a hand-written letter.]

Lydia,

I've deserved your silence. And likely whatever punishment your colorful headed friend wants to dish out. I had no intention of hurting you, or anyone for that matter. Boredom and the desire to act on a wild idea got the better of me. I don't expect your forgiveness, but I believe I owe you an explanation.

The people in this place had grown so complacent. Everyone living day by day, walking through their lives in some twisted sense of normalcy. I've been watching. The others are so wrapped up in themselves that they've slipped further away from why we were supposedly brought here. Marriage, arguing, pranks, jobs... they're all lost in their own little worlds and the drama or events in their tiny little orbit. Meanwhile, the corrosion persists and more arrive only to become trapped in the same doldrums. I thought if they had a new enemy, a new cause to unite against and bring them back into the jungle it would reignite their desire to work together and fight.

And I was incredibly, brain achingly, bored.

Some old habits are hard to break. Once the plan began to form, it was like slipping into a perfectly broken in pair of shoes. It felt so good. Until I took a step back and realized what I'd done.

There. Do with that what you will. I've no plans of returning to my flat for the time being so you're welcome to use it if you need a place to stay.

Sincerely,

Missy

Network - Text

[strangeandunusual]

It takes Lydia a long time to even decide what to do about the letter. She reads it over five, ten, fifteen times. The first few, she cries. Once, she brings it to the Gallery in the middle of the night when she can't sleep, and screams, because it's the one place she can be angry and not have five million people either telling her not to be upset, or asking what they can do or if they can - yes, good call, Missy - kill someone for her.

The rest of the times, she thinks more than she reads, only keeping the letter in her hand as a touchstone to keep her train of thought on track. Hadn't she felt much the same when she was in her cage, ranting to Beetlejuice? Hadn't she been just as angry that she'd had to herd them all, practically tell them what to do to save the Doctor? That they should have all known how teamwork was supposed to go by this point?

It's time for her to have a secret of her own. Lydia takes out her mirror.

I think I owe you an apology too. The more I think about it, you didn't do anything wrong. It was training. Training we all need. And need more of. When they don't think it's for real, they don't take it seriously. I'm sick of seeing people who ignore problems right in front of them and get wrapped up in themselves until it's almost too late and people get hurt. It started with my Dad and Delia, but now so many of my friends are doing it, too. I'm sick of it.

[she breathes in, slowly. sometimes you have to take a chance on someone dangerous who could hurt you again. she's not quite sure how she forgot that lesson. maybe The Other One made her soft.]

I want to help you plan another one. Help you get it right.