[ The world drains of colour because of course it does. Any help Trish has been able to provide someone came from her voice, from pushing Jessica and defending Hope — a refusal to be silent. With her not-so-super power neutralized here, why not bleed the vibrancy from the world, too? Perhaps it's telling that Trish wonders less about who she might see in colour, trawling her memories for the people who might view her that way instead.
It's a short list.
A familiar voice in her ear, just audible above the patter of rain, is like static electricity buzzing her fingertips. Not enough to surge life into this sodden, monochrome town, but she whips her head to chase the sound, anyway. The touch on her arm shocks the system more, prompting a practiced twist of her arm that only accomplishes half a rotation. Oh. The sight of Jess, bright against the landscape despite her intentionally dour dress, well, that's lightning: a full-body short-circuit that shuts down every alarm and escape protocol in her head. The rest is automatic. ]
Jess. [ Trish throws her arms over Jessica's shoulders, around her neck. Thank god. ]
no subject
It's a short list.
A familiar voice in her ear, just audible above the patter of rain, is like static electricity buzzing her fingertips. Not enough to surge life into this sodden, monochrome town, but she whips her head to chase the sound, anyway. The touch on her arm shocks the system more, prompting a practiced twist of her arm that only accomplishes half a rotation. Oh. The sight of Jess, bright against the landscape despite her intentionally dour dress, well, that's lightning: a full-body short-circuit that shuts down every alarm and escape protocol in her head. The rest is automatic. ]
Jess. [ Trish throws her arms over Jessica's shoulders, around her neck. Thank god. ]