Logs:The last enemy to be destroyed is death.

The last enemy to be destroyed is death.
Dramatis Personae Leo, Polaris, Winona, Wendy
In Absentia	2020-10-14 "Feels unreal. Like a bad dream."
Location road trip
There are only whisps of cloud in the sky, and the sun has nearly finished ducking beneath the horizon to retire for the day, a glow of orange still illuminating a rapidly darkening sky. Some stars have started to appear with the retreat of both the sun ahead of the vehicle, and the city behind it. The silver Ford Escape's engine is running smoothly, a mere hum in the background that is easy to ignore. The driver of the vehicle is chewing on her lip as she focuses on the road, a tension in her brow. Winona has been mostly silent for the time being, only lamenting that she prefers her old stick shift to the automatic transmission of the more modern SUV at the beginning of the trip. Her olive coloured jacket is closed over the cream coloured hooded sweatshirt that she wears underneath, along with a pair of torn jeans. The radio is turned to a low volume to allow the occupants to speak and hear one another, but still enough to play over the standard sounds of the road. In the passenger seat, Leo has also been quiet a long time. He's wearing a soft chambray button down and cigarette-cut black jeans, his black jacket folded neatly in his lap. His fingers have been tracing the red trim of the jacket, running back and forth slowly as he watches the trees pass them by. "I thought it would be better." His voice is soft, only barely breaking over the sound of the music. "Once we were out, I thought --" His words falter, his head thumping against the window. In the back, Polaris is slumped low, seatbelt off, staring into the back of the driver's seat, fidgeting with the twisted wire rings on her fingers. She's dressed in a green tank top with the graphic of a cartoon Babadook wearing a top hat in bi pride colors, black skinny jeans and her usual stompy black boots, a black canvas motorcycle jacket draped over her lap. Her eyes are red and damp, she's wearing no makeup whatsoever, and she smells powerfully of the cheap booze she's been steadily consuming. "Out here is shit," she mumbles. "Just different shit from in there." She sniffles. "Fuck. I guess. Some of it's the same shit." Wendy is in a chunky burnt orange and calf-length skirt, boots kicked off and her legs tucked under her. She's been scrolling her phone compulsively, though judging by her tight-knuckled grip on it and tightly compressed lips this might not be an excellent life choice. "He probably thought so, too. Once." There's a stilted distance to her voice. "He tried to make it better." Winona's dark eyes mostly remain fixed forward, though she does glance up to the rearview mirror when Polaris speaks. "I can't believe--" she starts, but fails to proceed before her mouth closes tightly, her knuckles becoming lighter as she grips hard on the steering wheel. "He did make it better. The world was better with him--" She stops speaking again when her voice starts to quaver, and with a jerky motion she releases the wheel with one hand to swipe her jacket sleeve against her eye. "It was better," Leo agrees, soft. His eyes lift to the rearview as well, though only briefly. "It was better. People are saying such awful things. They don't know -- they have no idea --" His jaw tightens. He pushes out a hard breath. "How many lives do you think he saved?" "We'll never know. So many." Polaris abruptly pushes herself upright, pressing one hand against the window. Her rings unravel one by one and braid themselves clumsily into a lumpy wire bracelet around her wrist. "Saved us. We were better. With him. Fuck..." She whimpers and starts crying again. "I can't--why? Fuck!" She punches the inside of the door beside her, hard. "People are awful. You should maybe not listen to them. They..." This just trails off. Wendy's eyes are dry, though very fixed as, despite her advice to Leo, she keeps scrolling through Twitter. "Well, he was kind of in the middle of --" She doesn't finish this thought, either. She does at least set the phone down when Polaris punches the door, turning slightly on her seat. Her hands ball into fists, then unclench slowly; she reaches one out to rest over one of Polaris's. Her eyes drift forward. "Can't believe what?" "I can't believe he is dead," answers Winona flatly, a bit of a scratchiness in her voice. "He was a living legend. And some random cop robots-- It's just hard. Feels unreal. Like a bad dream." She takes a deep breath, her fingers uncurling and then regripping the steering wheel. "I can't even imagine how many people he saved. So many people have him to thank..." The motion of Leo's fingers against his jacket grows more jittery. Rapid, jerky. "There were so many of them. I don't know why they -- they must have --" His head bows, his eyes squeezing shut. "I'm so sorry," comes much quieter. But then: "In the middle of -- what?" Polaris sobs, deep and unreserved, her hand turning over to grip Wendy's, tight. "What--what are people saying?" She plucks up the bottle of vodka resting by her boot, unscrewing it with her free hand and taking a very generous swig. "Flicker the Swift," she whispers. "Not swift enough. This time." Her bleary eyes drift over to Leo. "Mania. He was. In the middle. Of...a lot--" She draws a shuddering breath and makes a stifled noise, turning and burrowing into Wendy's side. "Do you really want to know?" Wendy curls her arm around Polaris's shoulders, resting her chin atop the other woman's head. "People say he was a white supremacist who was trying to kill Leo. Or maybe a mutant supremacist who was working with Leo to commit genocide. Or maybe a cop informant and they were covering their tracks. Or --" Her shoulder lifts delicately. "Very fast. Not careful enough." Her arm tightens around Polaris. "Mania is a lot. I'm glad he wasn't alone, Leo. I'm glad you weren't alone." Winona's expression darkens as Wendy talks about what people are saying about Flicker online. She looks towards the horizon, which has darkened into night, and the brights are switched on. "Who is saying-- He helped so many people. They should choke on their words." She grits her teeth, but her driving stays perfectly steady. Her eyes flick over to Leo a moment, and she frees one hand from the wheel to put a gentle hand on his shoulder. Leo lets out a shaky breath. His shoulder is tense beneath Winona's hand. He lifts his own hand, briefly touching his fingertips to Winona's knuckles before dropping his hand back to his lap. "The world didn't deserve him." His gentle voice is steadier, now, his eyes drifting back to the window. "Maybe one day they will choke."