Participants:
| Scene Title | A Friend, A Favor |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Izzy and Shaw seek out a fellow Traveler in the effort to identify some faces. |
| Date | April 8, 2019 |
With daylight savings time kicking in a few weeks earlier, days seemed to be longer and sunsets seemed to come just a little bit later, with most people sacrificing that precious hour of sleep to get in step with the rest of the world. Sure, there was debate that there would be a replacement of daylight savings time in Congress, but for something so ingrained in the US culture, most people barely paid attention. In the more civilized parts of the world, times like that mattered, but in others, like the west coast or places that were still pulling themselves out of the quagmire caused by the second civil war, it really didn’t matter to most of the world. New York was one of those places where, depending on the block you were on, time was either DST or regular, with friendly debate going on between the two times over who was right. In Cassandra’s thought, in agreement with the rest of the world, who gave up daylight savings time a little after the war started, it really didn’t matter. Time zones were good enough and as long as everyone agreed on a particular time, it was good enough for her. Still, she had two watches - one on her wrist, the other hanging on the strap of her backpack - each set to the appropriate time that it should be, just in case.
On her way back from RayTech, dressed in a long coat to keep the cool of the afternoon at bay, Cassandra had her bag filled with goodies from the market. One of the stalls had fresh onions, bell pepper, celery, and garlic and the scavenged spices she managed to find at another stall brought bay leaves, salt and pepper. The butcher had smoked sausage and chicken thighs, the bread stall parted with a little flour, and good beer was plentiful. Apparently someone has a plan for gumbo on this cool evening.
"Yo! Cassie!"
The voice sounds familiar and if Cassandra turns her head there's the sight of two people. Isabelle and Shaw Wesley-Khan stand a few feet away, Izzy looks like she's doing better than when she was stabbed a few nights ago. Rest and Shahid were to thank for that. The whole time she thought of tracking down the young woman before them. Her scar glows softly that orange burst. Her black tank top is coupled with a pair of dark jeans, sturdy boots. She's not in work attire. "Been looking for you, it's been awhile."
The pyrokinetic walks with a slight wince favoring her left side but she's not trying to let this hamper her. Fuck that.
Ruffling the back of her brunette hair that swings free and past her shoulders Isa has a plethora of memories unfold as she looks over at the young fellow Traveler. An easy smile plays across her lips and her half lidded gaze flicks to the groceries. That reminded her it was her turn to make the waffles tonight.
Carrying a couple of reusable bags that aren’t entirely full of things, Shaw trails behind Isabelle by a couple of paces as he stares at their surroundings in occasional distraction. The construction that goes on forever provides extra stimulus to an already busy city. That makes for no small amount of things to catch the man’s attention for brief moments of study and assessment before he refocuses on Isa, on their search for a timeline-traveling friend. Once they have found Cassandra, he lifts a hand to wave in indication of where they are in the bustle.
The last time Cassandra saw Isa was just before the brunette took a running jump through El Umbral and landed here in New Mexico. The tales of what happened to them she heard while in quarantine led her to believe that, for all intents and purposes, if Isa didn’t bleed out on the trip to this universe, the pair were disassembled into component atoms and scattered across the multiverse when they impacted the side of the tunnel, never to be seen or heard from again. Understandably, being disintegrated will make it difficult to communicate to those that haven’t been disintegrated. After all, corporeality is one of the necessary components for effective communication, so when a familiar-sounding voice calls out from behind, Cassandra’s immediate thought isn’t that it’s Isa and Shaw from there, it’s the Isa and Shaw from here, who just happen to know the Cassandra from here.
Closing her eyes and rolling her shoulders, the brunette steels herself for the conversation, as she’s come to call it, before putting on a small smile and turning to face the pair, shifting her backpack a little on her right shoulder, her left hand looped through the strap to hold it there a little tighter. The sight before her is exactly what the voice led her to believe, but the Shaw standing right behind startles her, the surprise evident. “Isabelle? Shaw? I thought you two were lost on the trip here…” The story is cast aside. Cassie takes a step forward and then hesitating. “You two okay? You look like you’ve gone through a lot, Isa.” Glowing scar and all.
Cassandra’s not been easy to find. After arrival the group was moved around a lot. Still, Cassie takes a breath and reins it back in. “Come on, then. If we’re going to talk, best it not be out on the street. My apartment is nearby. You can tell me more about what you need me for there.” She can also make a few calls to Richard find out who she’s talking to.
"We landed in Kansas. Very long story, involving waffles." A shared grin with Shahid but Isabelle's grin falters she had lost control that day. Cassandra's willingness to talk to them is a relief, they weren't close but Izzy knew she and Liz and Rura were. That was enough for her at the moment. As the trio walk back towards Cassie's apartment the pyrokinetic falls into step with her, the familiar warmth that wafts off of the darker haired woman wafts over Cassandra as well as the smell of smoke which there was just a hint of earlier when she stood away.
Shaw calls her his Phoenix but she's been feeling more and more like a dragon.
"We appreciate it." Speaking in hushed tones as they walk, "Travelers have to stick together. You work for Richard right?" It's true the people who crossed over into this world had a bond, a truth that they shared. Though Izzy would like to believe she cares only for who she deems family. It would seem a disservice to their shared experience to not lump the other Travelers in with that group in her heart. "He's an old friend. We grew up together…" realizing how that sounds, "You know.. in all the dimensions or whatever." Her hand goes to lightly press against her right side with a hiss of pain. It still stung a little. There's a flicker of fire as she pulls out a cigarette puffing on the thing after she lights it for the walk.
Shaw nods emphatically to the point of their story coming to this timeline involving waffles. The man merely smiles knowingly, glad to see Cassandra hale and welcoming. His smile falters when Isa winces, concern coming up. But what Cassandra says as well, concerns the man. “We need help, but we are also glad to see you. For you.” It’s all he says for now, recognizing that they’re out in the wilds of New York where anybody could be listening. Even if they don’t give a damn. That’s New York.
“If you don’t mind waiting a while in my place, I should be able to have a pot of gumbo in about an hour.” The experience that they all shared was like boot camp, college hazing, and birth all combined into one crazy experience, and that does something to a person. “I’m lucky. I managed to get set up in an apartment, with hot water most of the time, and a decent route to the markets. It’s how I’m doing gumbo, after all. I mean, it’s better the next day, but nothing like sharing between travellers, right?”
As they walk and chat, she nods in the affirmative. “On the job with Richard at Raytech, yes. Researching stuff. Basically a good way for me to be public without being public, if that makes any sort of sense. It’s a good place.” Cassandra offers, stopping in front of a nondescript brownstone, mounting the stairs carefully, one at a time, and unlocking the front door with a heavy brass key. “Welcome, one and all.” She holds the door open, allowing Izzy and Shaw entry to the main hall before closing and locking it behind her, making her way to the elevator that, after a bit of rumbling, arrives to escort them to her floor.
Cassandra’s apartment is nice - taking up half of the floor of the brownstone, the other half taken by someone else (F. Teason, from the name on the door). The elevator opens into a small alcove that ushers them to the front door of her apartment and, with a few more locks, in Cassandra and the trio go, only to be assaulted by a small tabby cat that’s protesting her absence for the day.
“Gigi…” Cassandra chides, crouching down and lifting the little ball of fur in her hands, cuddling it close. “Did you eat all your breakfast again and think I wasn’t coming back? I come back every day, you know…” She taps the kitten on the nose and sends her trundling off into the apartment to do cat things. “Make yourself comfortable, you two. I’m going to start dinner, feed the cat…you know, stuff we couldn’t do back in the flood…and then we can chat.”
The butt of her cigarette is dashed into the pavement outside of the building. "Gumbo." Looking over to Shaw with a grin, food was their thing. "Sure why not. Sounds delicious." Isa couldn't even remember the last time she ate that dish. They weren't on a waffle only diet but it was hard to not indulge when offered a choice of what they wanted to eat as a household. Namiko is very good about their veggies though.
The apartment gets a once over and the pyrokinetic nods, there was something missing from the Yamagato Suites something only found in homes that were really lived in. Maybe it was just that they were so clean and sterile, fancy. Isabelle loved it but this type of home reminded her of the one that was above Old Lucy's back in the day. Looking around as Cassandra goes off to prepare dinner and take care of some necessary chores, Isa pulls her flask out of her pocket. Freshly filled and she shakes it in front of her before taking a sip. There's a bottle in one of the bags that Shaw carries. "Brought my moonshine. Bring some cups."
This part of Cassandra's ability was the part Izzy loved. To be fueled by the very thing she loves to ingest and create. "It's Lemon with a dash of orange. I tried to filter in lime."
“Make yourselves comfortable.” Cassandra calls from the kitchen as she cooks. “Bathroom’s down the hall, washer’s across from it if you need to get something cleaning.” She’s opening her home to the pair for a little while, it seems. The sound from the kitchen is very domestic - water running, things being chopped, a radio playing quietly in the background, some old CD of zydeco music that Cassandra picked up in the market sometime after arriving, just to get a taste of home. Smells start to waft out, too. Cooking chicken, butter and garlic sauteed together, things being added to a pot with clanks and stirs. She leaves Shaw and Izzy to their own devices for a few minutes, making a phone call to Richard - leaving a voicemail - about who’s in her apartment and if he knew they were in the city. Basic information shared. And when she emerges again from the kitchen, it’s with a few bottles of decent beer and three of the requested glasses. Mismatched, of course, but that fits the aesthetic of this place perfectly.
Sinking down into her recliner, Gigi scaling her jeans-covered leg and snuggling into her lap shortly after, Cassandra looks over at the pair, taking a drink of her beer before pushing herself up, crossing her legs underneath her so she’s indian-style on the cushioned seat. “So what’s up? What brings you to New York?” She nods towards the flask. “And what do you need me to look into for you?”
Left to his own devices, Shaw explores around the apartment’s main room all the while keeping Izzy within visual or audible range. The bathroom gets a once over too, just because. Eventually in the self-tour, the man leans in the direction of the kitchen, sniffing at the delicious scents of things, but doesn’t interrupt. It’s a science, cooking is. Instead, he returns to the couch and slides in place close to Isabelle’s spot. After the debacle of the Wasteland, it would be hard-pressed to say the pair wasn’t practically joined at the hip. Sometimes, they are.
He thanks Cassandra for the beer with a bobbing head nod, and as their host settles with the cat, he finds himself peering more towards the animal than the woman. “Does she understand you? Like the library cats?” he wonders aloud and off-topic.
Izzy's smile for Shaw's question is as warm as her own warmth and she settles into the seat. Drinking slowly from her flask. "We've been here for awhile. Richard and the others know, I'm working at Yamagato." That's what brings them to New York. "Namiko got a job with them too. Shahid works as a courier, we just want- I just wanted to have a chill time in this timeline. For once." The recent actions she had taken though before this shitshow of a gala even happened were contrary to the point she was currently making.
Digging into one of the bags that Shaw carried into the apartment Izzy draws out a shimmering gold dress with dried blood on it, hers. "There was a gala at Yamagato a few nights ago. Some assholes caused some chaos. Stole some shit." The next item is smaller than the dress but it also has Izzy's blood on it.
"Fuckers stabbed me." The quill, the elongated hardened nail. "I wanna know who they are. My bosses will be happy to know their faces." Isabelle's temper is even, she's holding it in check though a slight increase of the warm air is indicative of her mood. "Will you help me? People like that can't be let loose on the street." They were monsters obviously.
”Not yet.” Cassandra responds simply to Shaw, stroking the cat behind her ears with one hand, holding the beer in the other. “She’s little, though. Still has to take some time to get to know me. We only found each other two months ago. Little shit wormed her way into a warm spot in the front of the apartment and invited herself in. Isn’t that right, Gigi…” The kitten lazily looks up at Cassandra as her nose is booped and lets out a soft *miao*, looking over at Shaw and Isabella on the couch for a second, almost like she’s asking a question. “Friends from out of town.” Cassandra explains. “You be nice.”
Gigi pushes herself up to her feet, deftly hops from the recliner to the couch and sits next to Shaw, looking up at him, as if to say ‘Pet me, you dick.’
Cassandra watches as the bloodstained items are taken from the bag and laid out on the table, the kitten giving each a narrowing of the eyes before looking back to Shaw and Izzy, hopping over Shaw’s lap to settle in the miniscule gap between where the pair of them are joined at the hip. Cassandra smiles, then grows more serious. “I gave Richard a call, letting him know you were here. I thought you were pretty much missing, after everything was said and done and wasn’t sure what to do. Just being careful, you know. That said…” She leans over and takes the dress and the…stick? Thorn? Observing it for a second, looking to Izzy for an explanation. “Is this one of the things? It’s like a pencil lead except…harder.” She taps it against a nail, marveling at it leaving a scratch easily. And with a sharp point and blood from Izzy sticking to it too. “Actually..wait, don’t tell me. Just…give me a second and I’ll see.” The objects are set on the futon and the drawer next to her is slid open. Out comes a blindfold - black cloth this time - and a pair of classic black Ray Ban sunglasses, which are flipped open and pushed on top of her head, to be pulled down later once the blindfold is in place.
Apparently she’s going to help.
“I heard about the Gala. Walls of fire and, if the rumors are true, a giant porcupine appearing in the middle of the chaos. Sticking all /sorts/ of people with these things.” She looks to Shaw and Izzy. “Now, I don't know what I'm going to see here, and truth be told I might forget what I saw, due to all the beer I've had this evening. Just….this isn't the wasteland. This place has got its own rules and reasons for things. I don't know what was stolen, or why, but I really don't want to hear about some dude getting thrown into the bay in flaming pieces because of what I show you. Turn the thieves in. Don't let your need for revenge have you do something you shouldn't. We can have a life here.”
Cassandra sighs, pushing the quill into the cloth of the futon, leaving it there while she ties on the blindfold and pulls the sunglasses over the top. “Well?” She poses in her seat. “Pretty cool looking, huh?” Its a lame attempt to bring a little humor to the situation.
"No worries." On Cassandra being careful and calling Richard, it's not like she needs to hide the fact from him that she went to visit the retrocog sitting there in front of her. Walls of flame, Isa doesn't look sheepish she just shrugs, "I was offering them light. Until yes the porcupine." Her glare deepens as she sips heavily from her flask. "Stuck me and a bunch of others."
The detailing of how they shouldn't be seeking vengeance isn't met with a rebuff or anger from the pyrokinetic. Cassandra was right this dimension did have their laws and ways of doing things. "They will be alerted." The authorities. "If you hear about someone in flames in the news I'll get you drunk for six months on my dime." The dime of the company she works for of course. Isa smiles as Cassandra don's her sunglasses. She's never been able to witness something like this before and while psychic abilities usually make wary, she can't help but feel a little eagerness to see how the young woman's ability works.
"I do really appreciate this. I owe you a large favor." Isa honors her pacts.
The demands of Gigi must be met. Shaw listens and doesn’t interrupt or interject his opinion on account of his not having been at the gala. Anything he says, at least he thinks, would impede this supernatural investigation.
So he pets the cat, idly alternating between scratching between the kitten’s ears and running fingertips over her back fur. Only after Cassandra has put on the blindfold and sunglasses does he utter a soft sound of amusement. “Like the Invisible Woman,” he offers for makeshift description.
But his thoughts return to their task on the table, and he glances over to Isa with a concerned hike of his brow, stating, “Eanqa’, just remember… this might not be enough to help either. But we’ll figure something out if that happens.” Then Shaw turns back to Cassandra and nods, only to remember she can’t see him nodding. “Um. Whenever you are ready.”
He looks a bit tense, and it translates into a bit heavier petting on the cat. Hang on to your butts. You too Gigi.
Gigi, Cassandra has found, is probably the best thing for nervousness and worry. Just having her in the apartment, waiting for her, is soothing, and when you add in the concern and care that the little cat gets and the purring that acts as a panacea to just about anything that ails her. “She’s used to it, I think. I don’t know if my visions work on cat brains, so my best guess is that she just sees us sitting here and talking about things that aren’t there.” She reaches out and waves her hand over the surface of the futon, stopping when she hits the side of the giant splinter and pulling it free, sitting back with it held carefully in both hands. Cassandra should probably be wearing gloves for this, but considering the amount of antibiotics, antivirals, and immunizations got pumped into her since her arrival here and the fact that Izzy is sitting there, alive leads her to believe she should be okay as long as she doesn’t stab it deep into her thigh.
“Living stuff doesn’t work for my visions, just so you know. I tried reading a person once and it was like trying to pause and rewind a playing dvd without interrupting the show. It…didn’t go well. Still, as soon as something becomes not alive is when I can more concretely read what’s going on so, assuming this was alive….” She hefts the needle, turning it around in her fingers and almost dropping it, lunging forward to grab it with both hands, coughing sheepishly once she has it again. “Um…We should start getting things a little bit after it was cut, grown, broken off, or whatever. Keep your hands and feet inside the vision at all times, remember stuff is still in the real world where it was when we started, and remember it won’t hurt you, even if it did.”
Cassandra settles back in her seat, pulling her legs beneath her as she readies herself. It’s been so long since she’s actually used her ability for something other than entertainment or helping to find something out from a mundane object, she’s a little excited to see what’s going to come from this thing. And at first, like is the usual with her ability, nothing seems to happen as she syncs herself with the object and the people in the room. The sounds from the street outside can still be heard, the radio in the kitchen continues to play, and the lights continue to glow in their lamps, but as time passes, things start to fade away. The music from the kitchen vanishes, leaving an eerie silence that’s filled by Gigi’s purring. The lights fade away shortly thereafter, along with the sounds from the street, until finally the three (and Gigi) are sitting in an endless void of darkness that surrounds them. “Now let’s see what we have here…”
Drawing her fingers along the object in her hands, several small, glowing threads stretch out from it into the distance ahead and behind them. Wrapping her fingertip around them, Cassandra tugs the thread drifting off behind her closer, running it through her fingers, studying it through the sunglasses for a second before pulling it back again. “It’s very faint…” she clarifies. “There’s not much here. Basically since the gala and after, when you had it.” Those images are stronger, of course, since there was a lot of emotion going on when it was being removed. Those are passed over to the very first second that she can find…the sound of ripping cloth and then the image of a man in an ill-fitting pink suit, enjoying the last bit of chicken on his plate.
“I don’t know who that is…but this.” Cassandra hefts the quill, pointing it toward the man. “Came from that guy.”
Cassandra's ability on display is wild and Izzy leans back as the world around them changes as well as the sounds of it. "Well shit." Taking another sip of her flask as Cassandra grabs thread and spins the scene of the other night wide open for them. It's disorienting to see that night again but from this perspective. As Cassandra spins the world around trying to find the moment they need and lands on it Isa stands and walks over to where the man in the pink suit is peering at him with a glare, "Got you fuckboy."
Peering around the room, "Can you go slow? And we will where he went? Until he's out of the range or what the fuck ever?" Isabelle doesn't know how this works totally but it's pretty handy.
"Nobody can fuck you over you'd just see it." A dark grin towards Shaw with eyebrows raised. Hazel eyes have that hunger in them that he knows, it never really rears it's head but Isa being one step closer to the man that stabbed her feeds that fire so to speak.
“Okay, I can change the perspective a little bit do me a favor. Cover your eyes with your hand when I do it. I've been told people find the movement a little disorienting when the world shifts around them, and covering your eyes tricks your brain somehow into not making you sick.” Waiting a few seconds for hands to go over eyes, Cassandra shifts the scene where they are in front of the man that's eating - helpfully in the illusion of the table, giving them a perfect look at the man.
The scene is dark, with Isabelle’s flames lighting up the ballroom where the banquet was taking place. The man studies the area, memorizing a route before standing, wiping his mouth with a napkin. And then there's the sound of ripping fabric and a voice projected into people’s heads. It's all very confusing and chaotic.
Someone yells a name over the din of people starting to panic; Ollie, and then the man moves, body checking one of the guards near Isa and giving the pyrokinetic several sharp blows to the kidney from a hand that looks to be decorated with vicious claws. They weren't like that when he ate chicken - and when he sweeps the legs of the guard an Isa, sending them to the floor, he leaves a quill imbedded in the woman’s body skin, as well as several others in various people in his haste to escape.
The scene freezes on that escape, the memory coming from Isabelle now, backing up to the spot with him sitting at the table, watching the goings on of the gala.
“There's your guy.” Cassandra says again. “Must be a werewolf or something. Were-porcupine with these quills.”
"Ollie."
Isabelle moves in closer to stare at his face again and those nails. The heat in the room spikes as the brunette bites the inside of her cheek. Circling the projection she raises a hand to almost caress the man's face her hand igniting in orange flames. "Can you go slow? Follow him until your vision cuts off." Someone knew him there, she wants to see who.
Another look is shared with Shaw, "You getting that face baby?"
The nature of Shaw's own ability has left him in the dark plenty of times with senses negated. That's not the disorienting or frightening part of Cassandra's post-cognition ability. The shift of scenery, however, is. Shaw pushes up to his feet, displacing the cat (sorry Gigi) and staring with wide eyes as things move and change from the interior of Cassandra's apartment to that of the Yamagato center's ballroom. It's almost like getting teleported. Almost, but not quite.
The man plays witness alongside Isabelle, watching and tensing at the reveal of the pink-suited Evolved man who attacked his love. Brows scrunch down. A frown tugs at his lip corners. "I want to see too," he says finally. "Can you show where he went?" And then after another blink and a look to the blindfolded woman, a concerned tone rises. "Are you okay? No headache, right? We can stop if you want." Turning to Isa, he rolls his shoulders back and fingers fumble for a phone in his pocket. "Maybe… maybe we can take a picture."
“I'm fine.” Cassandra says softly, answering Shaw first, turning her head to look at him directly through the blindfold. “I did this kind of thing for research for years back with Pinehearst. Thanks for the concern, though. And pictures…”. She shakes her head. “Pictures require something there. A picture of this scene will just show my apartment. Sorry. Good idea, though.” Cassandra turns to look at Izzy. “Good guy you got there, Sparky.” She apparently knows where people in her visions are based on some kind of directional sense. Or perhaps she just got lucky. No matter the case, she lifts a hand and catches something in the air, the entire scene freezing as she draws a near-invisible thread from somewhere, making a small loop that she hooks around her middle finger and pinches between pointer and thumb. “Let's see what we can see…”
The scene backs up slowly, Ollie coming back into focus, back into the range of the memory, striding backwards like one were rewinding an old videocassette shot in 4K, until he's sitting again in his seat, finishing his last few bites of chicken. It's all very limited how far she can go back, but she goes back as far as she can before moving through the scene slowly, almost frame by frame at super slow motion. Just before Ollie stands, he gives a glance over toward another person somewhere in the room but looking in that direction only reveals muddy smudges and indistinct faces - shorthand of the memory filling in the edges of what was noticed.
That's a dead end, so Cassandra moves to the time that Ollie was yelled for. “Look around…” She says as she freezes the scene just before the directed shout is broadcast, inching it forward slowly, bringing faces into focus as best she can. “Try and look for someone yelling out his name.”
While Shaw's idea is a smart one, alas it doesn't work and Izzy smiles and rubs his shoulder in support. "There's a…" Her hazel eyes narrow as she tries to pinpoint the voice that calls out Ollie's name moments before he strikes Isa and the guards in the projection. Walking slowly the pyro stops short as the scene plays out and she sees… "A blonde."
Her steps are purposeful, the temperature in the room growing again as she winces, feeling the pressure on her mind. Release… It's almost too much being this close to the people but not. Isa stops short in front of the pretty blonde woman and she studies her face. "Got you sons of bitches." Glaring back towards where Ollie is hunched over near her projection the pyro grins. "Cassandra you're a fucking treat. You can have as much as my moonshine as you like whenever you like."
Which means she's going to get at least three bottles often. OFTEN.
Izzy pointing out the blonde causes the scene to freeze, Cassandra standing and moving toward it, still holding the thread that comes from Ollie’s quill. She’s moving slowly, bumping into the coffee table as she moves to look at the other woman on the periphery of the crowd, the heat coming off of Izzy causing Cassandra to wince from the intensity. “I might take you up on that.” She says with a smirk, looking back to Shaw for a second. “If you’ve got everything you need?”
Cassandra lifts the thread and lets it flutter away, joining others in the inky blackness, letting the world and reality as it is come back in a slow trickle instead of a rush that she’s found can be disorienting at the very least. Sounds, smells, and then light starts to fade in as senses are released and then they’re in Cassandra’s simple apartment with the smell of scorched wood filling the room.
Cassandra’s blindfold comes off quickly, wiping her face as she searches for the source of the smell and discovers that Izzy, in her enthusiasm of finding the blonde, has scorched two footprints in the hardwood floor. She can’t help but laugh, clapping Izzy on the shoulder. “I’ll have to get some asbestos carpets if we make this a regular thing.”
Blinking back as the projection fades and the sounds and smells of Cassandra's apartment fill her and Shaw's senses again the dark haired woman looks down at her feet and looks sheepish walking over to couch to dig in a bag and produce two bottles of her moonshine. "Um.. maybe this will get the marks.. off…" Again hazel eyes take in the floor and she grimaces. No voice in her head, no thumping of the door at the back of her mind but still Isabelle's expression is a hard one, angry. She's not entirely sure what to do with random faces now in her memory with just a first name: Ollie.
"Thanks, I… I appreciate it again. Drink up, take a nap. We…" Isabelle ruffles the back of her head and smiles. "Come by Yamagato sometime, I'll get you sushi."
Isabelle isn't always the best at making friends but when someone works with her it feels like a bond call it being raised the way she was, Cassandra might allow Isabelle to be a friend.
She needed them.