* CLEANING UP SO WELL && ivy

[ALTAIR SABINA BENNETT]

Altair didn’t have friends. That was rather apparent as she sat alone in the courtyard, cigarette in her mouth. People didn’t like her, and she didn’t like people. It was simply, really, how she worked. And she wasn’t the lonely kid in the corner of the lunchroom who no one understood. She very much hoped that people understood her. She wasn’t out looking for friends or connections or anything like that. She was antisocial for a reason.

However, it was different now, if only slightly. Her path of destruction was becoming overgrown because she realized something—other people didn’t matter. Well, people who weren’t Rowena. So why go around knocking out everyone who said something that pinched a nerve. Besides, even though she wouldn’t admit it, grief was a heavy burden. She was the same Altair to everyone else, even as they whispered behind hands about Syria. Now when that came up, it was grief that spurred her into action. The girl’s death had struck deeper than even she had expected, and if she heard the name spoken from someone else’s lips, the anger was very real. And it wasn’t just the violent urge, anymore. At this point, as she thought too much about everything and it sometimes became overwhelming, Altair wasn’t focused on making people’s lives hell.

She was focused on kicking the Vicodin so she didn’t end up like Syria. She was focused on making sure Rowena was trying to do the same with her drugs. It wouldn’t be easy—they didn’t do what they did because they liked to, because they enjoyed it. They were addicts, they took drugs because their bodies needed it, their minds even needed it. And Altair wasn’t anything if not determined and stubborn, and when she put her mind to something, she got it accomplished. It’ll get better. She’d promised Ro that, and she’d make sure it happens. She’d make sure that things would be like when they were younger, even though they didn’t have Syria with them. The thought caused her stomach to clench. I need something. She really wished she could ditch school and head to Timmies—of all the places to ditch for really—but she was trying to behave herself a bit more. You need to get focused.

Instead, she relied on nicotine for now, blowing out smoke rings and wondering just how far she could take her powers now. She wasn’t very powerful, even though she was steadily building up thanks to the unwilling help of the Earth students. After all, she didn’t pay much attention in class. She just couldn’t stay focused, and usually distracted herself with filing her nails or otherwise causing some sort of mayhem. She watched students past, and saw a few of them turn to look at the companions they walked with, and even without hearing them speak, she knew they were saying something about her and Rowena. And she could care less. Usually she would have done something, but she preoccupied herself with actually doing some work. That is, until someone approached her. Without tilted her head up, she moved her eyes to look at the girl. ”Uhm…I just wanted to say I’m sorry…about Syria. I was friends with her.”

Altair simply grunted in response. ”I don’t need your sympathy. Anything else you want to say to me?” The girl shook her head rather vehemently and hurried away. Altair sighed. She didn’t feel like she’d be getting work done right now. And she was just about to move when someone else approached her. She really was getting ticked off now. He must have been standing nearby since he said shortly, ”She was just trying to be nice, why do you have to be a bitch?” Clearly, her reputation didn’t scare certain people away. So, from the cigarette in her mouth, she grew the flame into a ball that exploded upon impact when it hit the guy’s stomach. She didn’t care what element or grade he was in. Altair just wanted to show him that he had no right to tell her what to do, how she should accept people’s condolences. ”Fuck you,” she said.