[ this is fairly tame, all things considered, willa decides as she finishes reading the card and sets it down. she accepts most things like water rolling off a duck's back, but there is an equanimity to her about all this that cannot be overstated, a self-possession few can master. she is absolutely perfectly fine with being stuck in this bubble for the foreseeable future and getting to know people while she is here is not a hardship.

she turns when she hears the door open, her smile is open, her dark eyes wide. ]

Hello there. I'm Willa, you must be my partner for this exercise.

[ willa doesn't particularly consider anything in her past as secret, but she has had quite a long life and there are somethings she would prefer not to talk about:

a tiara, tarnished with age, labeled as if from christie's auction house: the duchess of the great basin

a charred piece of wood, a note impaled by a nail has written in an untidy scrawl: everyone burns, lala

a beautiful dagger that looks to be ceremonial, but when unsheathed, is stained with blood. tied to the hilt, the note reads: green used to be her favorite color, what changed?

a full wwi-era canteen, note written in chalk across the side: ask her why it is full

the notes give little to go on, they certainly don't provide information like "if found please return to willa lisieux" but sometimes, if you're lucky, willa will notice the item in hand (though probably not the wood at first glance) and helpfully point out: ]

Hey, that's mine.

[ her accent is american but there is something of a refined quality to it, like english isn't her first language but no other accent is truly discernable.

or, she could poke her nose directly into someone else's business and easily ask: ] What's that you've found?

[ the blackness is slowly creeping up willa's wrist, the timer slowly counting down.

she can imagine the differences between her and her doppelgänger because she's thought of it before, what she would be like if she turned her back on her friends to seek the end of the world, if she sided with a monster — it isn't hard to imagine, she's always been a soft touch for lavrentios and if it meant fabian wouldn't have to carry on with his grief, polina could finally just stop, she wouldn't have to keep watching her friends die over and over and over and over.

she wouldn't have to keep dying.

her hands drag down her face. the dagger sticking out of the back pocket of her slim cigarette pants, hiking up the back of her blouse, looks out of place with her outfit, but when she curls her fingers around the hilt, it looks perfectly natural in her grasp. this is a girl who knows how to use the weapon in hand.

a sigh pushes out of her lungs, long, dark hair rippling down her back in a waterfall of curls as she looks up at the sky like the clouds hold the answer. ] How am I supposed to kill a bitch I can't even get near?

( go where your heart takes you or hmu if you want something specific xoxo )