[ allison hasn’t been in anchor long — it’s been maybe twelve hours since she had to sit through a video of idris elba-who-is-not-irdis-elba (allison met him once at a cocktail party, and he looks much different up close), was forced to undergo a minimally satisfying communal shower, retrieve her clothes and some bizarre, clunky phone. since then, allison has successfully located a replacement bandage which is now wrapped around her throat, but she’d like a little more than that. maybe a scarf, to hide the suggestion of an unappealing wound. but more than that, allison wants to go home. she needs to save her sister, and probably the world, but it’s vanya who’s on her mind right now — vanya, who could be hurt, or dead, or worse. allison doesn’t want to lose another loved one.
so she’s searching. searching for home, a scarf, a friend — anything.
allison’s search has brought her to the park. in the distance, she spots a young girl sitting on a bench, swinging her legs back and forth. when allison moves closer, she can just make out that the little girl is humming.
allison would know that voice anywhere. it’s claire. it’s her daughter.
with that realization, allison practically sprints towards the bench, stopping a few feet away from her child. allison is crying and grinning; her body shakes a little. she’s full of fear and joy and love — love for her daughter, and joy that she can see her again. but fear for her, too — anchor isn’t safe for claire. they need to go home.
allison sits on the bench, and in her mind, they embrace.
any onlooker, however, will just see allison, hugging herself, petting the air, and crying at nothing — nothing at all. ]
network. un: a.h.
Help I’ve been dragged to some robot event I know nothing about they’re trying to force feed me candy and there’s a mysterious sticky goop all in my hair and clothes how do I get out of here
allison hargreeves // the umbrella academy // direct from canon
[ allison hasn’t been in anchor long — it’s been maybe twelve hours since she had to sit through a video of idris elba-who-is-not-irdis-elba (allison met him once at a cocktail party, and he looks much different up close), was forced to undergo a minimally satisfying communal shower, retrieve her clothes and some bizarre, clunky phone. since then, allison has successfully located a replacement bandage which is now wrapped around her throat, but she’d like a little more than that. maybe a scarf, to hide the suggestion of an unappealing wound. but more than that, allison wants to go home. she needs to save her sister, and probably the world, but it’s vanya who’s on her mind right now — vanya, who could be hurt, or dead, or worse. allison doesn’t want to lose another loved one.
so she’s searching. searching for home, a scarf, a friend — anything.
allison’s search has brought her to the park. in the distance, she spots a young girl sitting on a bench, swinging her legs back and forth. when allison moves closer, she can just make out that the little girl is humming.
allison would know that voice anywhere. it’s claire. it’s her daughter.
with that realization, allison practically sprints towards the bench, stopping a few feet away from her child. allison is crying and grinning; her body shakes a little. she’s full of fear and joy and love — love for her daughter, and joy that she can see her again. but fear for her, too — anchor isn’t safe for claire. they need to go home.
allison sits on the bench, and in her mind, they embrace.
any onlooker, however, will just see allison, hugging herself, petting the air, and crying at nothing — nothing at all. ]
network. un: a.h.
Help I’ve been dragged to some robot event I know nothing about they’re trying to force feed me candy and there’s a mysterious sticky goop all in my hair and clothes how do I get out of here