colette2_icon.gif felix_icon.gif ygraine_icon.gif

Scene Title Desaturate
Synopsis Ygraine arrives at Judah Demsky's apartment in search of Colette.
Date February 4, 2009

Le Rivage, Judah's Apartment

The tenant of this small studio could probably afford a larger space on his budget but, judging from the unique style of his decor, seems like the type of person who would rather spend his money on other things. Several Ansel Adams prints in black and white are positioned strategically throughout the room, stark against the studio's walls which have been painted a light beige colour to lend the area just a hint of warmth. Through the use of furniture and built-in shelving units, the apartment has been divided into three distinct sections: one for cooking and eating, one for relaxing, and one for sleeping.

The kitchen is a barebones affair with outdated tile floors that contrast with the stainless steel appliances and glass backsplash. It also contains a tiny eat-in nook with a circular table, two matching chairs and a plain white tablecloth held in place by a potted jade plant at the center of the arrangement.

The living area consists of a dark leather couch, a matching armchair, a zen-style coffee table that sits a mere foot off the ground and — the centerpiece of the apartment — an entire wall of bookshelves that house several hundred different titles ranging from such classics as Crime and Punishment, Heart of Darkness and The Turn of the Screw to more modern titles like Cormac McCarthy's Blood Meridian. More prominent, though, is the tenant's varied collection of nonfiction which includes works on forensic studies, criminal psychology, philosophy and even indoor botany. On the coffee table rests a copy of The Black Swan: The Impact of the Highly Improbable by Nassim Nicholas Taleb, but why this particular title is on display is anyone's guess.

The bedroom area is separated from the rest of the studio by a low wall and a series of thick black curtains designed to block out the light streaming in from the apartments untreated bay windows. Even at night, the area is unusually bright thanks to the placement of a street lamp directly outside this street-level unit. The bed itself is a twin-sized platform dressed in crisp white sheets and a down comforter for warmth.

The bay windows open out to a small patio completely enclosed by wrought-iron bars designed to prevent and unwanted guests from visiting the premises when the tenant is out, and while this gives it the appearance of a prison, the effect is lessened somewhat by swaths of ivy and a meticulously-cared for succulent garden.

It's mid-afternoon on another cold day in Wintry New York. A somewhat tired-looking young woman approaches a door she's only been to a couple of times before, pausing for a few moments outside to check over her appearance and try to adopt a cheerful demeanour… before raising one hand and knock-knocking smartly at the portal before her.

The knocking continues for a few moments, followed by a prolonged period of silence, and then another round of knuckles on wood. The hall is quiet, the whole apartment building is. People have become more subdued as of late, with the curfews and the constant fear, it's like a light-switch was turned off. Some moments there's pandemonium — like the riots in the news. Other moments, there's just silence.

"Y-Ygraine?" The voices comes not from the apartment, but from down the hall. "Oh my God!" Just having rounded the corner from the laundry room, Colette drops a hamper of freshly folded clothes as she charges down the hall towards the familiar shape. The young girl's socked feet thump loudly on the cracked tile floors until she practically bowls the Brit over, throwing her arms around Ygraine's waist, squeezing tightly as her face comes to bury at the woman's shoulder, "Y-you're alright, I was so worried about you!"

With her words muffled against Ygraine's jacket, Colette's murmuring is just a biot incoherant, at least until she raises her face. Streaked with tears, the girl smiles a bit blearily, "I — E-everything was so — I — " She swallows loudly, the sound turning into a strangled laugh as she tries to rein in her emotions.

Though she's clearly more than a touch surprised, Ygraine laughs even as she braces herself for impact, welcoming the younger woman with a tight, warm hug. "I'm okay. Got a bit of a bump on the head, and… rather stressed. But I came through the storm okay", she murmurs, one hand moving up to cup the back of Colette's skull. "I… didn't realise I'd caused you so much concern. I apologise."

"N-no it's just — " The girl snorts out a laugh, followed by a shudder as she returns the hug, fingers curling against the hard fabric of Ygraine's coat. "God it's been so fucked up since — " A half-sob turns into an awkward laugh as she brings up one sweater-covered arm to wipe at her eyes and nose. The bright red stands out against the paleness of her skin as it partially covers her face. Looking at Colette, it's obvious she's been through a lot too. Her eyes have dark circles beneath them, and there's a small bruise on her forehead along with a healing cut, like she's been roughed up a bit.

"Everything's gone to shit…" She mumbles as her head turns, eyeing the upturned basket of laundry with a slack of her shoulders. "Jesus, I — I've got to — " Her arms slip out from around Ygraine's waist, and the clearly troubled young girl backpedals a few steps, inching towards the laundry with a motion of one sleeve-covered hand over her shoulder, just the tip of one finger pointing out. "I should — Just gimmie a sec."

Ygraine moves to help Colette with her washing, though the confused and worried expression that's been fixed on her features throughout the girl's scrambled near-explanation remains in place. She musters what she hopes is an encouraging smile, but says no more than a quiet, "It's okay. I can come in and talk there."

Still sniffling as she rights the plastic laundry basket and starts haphazardly shoving once folded clothing back in, Colette lets her mismatched eyes linger on Ygraine for a moment, now reddened on the edges. "I — God, I — I'm so glad you're ok…" Her hands shake as she stufs the last of the laundry in the hamper, taking a sock from Ygraine with an anxious smile.

"I — " Her words are interrupted by a swallow, "God, I — When I saw everything on the news, and when — fuck," it's only then she notices how bad her hand is shaking. "S-sorry I — It's been — " Closing her eyes, she just pushes out a deep breath through her nose and rises to her feet, carrying the laundry hamper with one hand, resting it against her hip to brace the weight. The young girl's other hand fishes around for keys in the pouch of her hoodie, holding them out to Ygraine once she's got them, "Could you unlock the door?"

Ygraine accepts the keys, free hand running lightly down Colette's back in what's intended to be a reassuring manner, then moves to unfasten the locks. Carefully opening the door a couple of inches, she waits a moment to see if the dog she remembers as a fellow-resident tries to get out, ready to scoot him back inside as she enters and holds the way open for Colette to follow.

But no dog comes out, just the silence of an unlit apartment, blinds drawn down and dark. Watching Ygraine's posture, Colette lets out a quiet sound in the back of her throat as she walks behind the Brit, then shoulders past her into the apartment, "I don't know where Jupiter is." She says in a strained tone of voice, motioning to her right with her head as she walks in, "Click on the light, it's the top switch."

The apartment is nearly pitch black with the curtains drawn, and yet Colette navigates thorugh it without much hassle. She settles down the basket of laundry on some dark outline of furniture, then goes wandering off with thumping footfalls down an even darker hallway deeper into the apartment without slowing down. Only the weak sound of her voice gives any indication where she is, "I — I'm sorry about, um…" She's embarassed, maybe disappointed. "I shouldn't have freaked out when I saw you."

Ygraine winces at Colette's news on Jupiter, but busies herself for a few moments with the tasks of finding the right switch and closing and securing the door. Then she deposits the keys on the coffee table, dithers… and strides across to scoop Colette up into another hug, arms around her waist hoisting her off her feet for a few seconds. "I'm here", she says with quiet intensity, looking up at her hostess. "And I'm glad to see you, too. Now stop apologising for having feelings, okay?"

Halfway towards the bathroom when she's swept up into Ygraine's arms, Colette tries to act tough for a moment, just letting out a scoffing snort until that stern expressin on her face melts away to something a bit more lonely, a bit more broken. "I — I'm so— " She catches herself, awkwardly laughing as she wraps one arm around her midsection once set down, and covers her mouth with one hand, eyes halfway lidding as she stares down at the floor.

"I'm — I don't know what's going on, Ygraine. I — " Her eyes flick up to look at the door, anxiously checking to make sure it's locked before her focus turns back to the Brit. "Did you see the news?" It's an oblique question at first, and she practically spits out the clarification, "The trailer park riot? With all the fucking cops — it — " She looks away, fingers poking out from her sleeve, only to become the target of nibbling by her teeth.

Ygraine blink-blinks, then tries to cup Colette's face in her hands, leaning down a touch as she tries to catch the teen's gaze. "You were there? With your photographs?", she asks worriedly. "Were you hurt? I'd guess that's where you got separated from Jupiter… but no one hurt you, did they?"

The touch of bare hands on her cheeks causes Colette to turn against the warm of physical contact, eyes falling shut entirely as the questions make those tears she's been threatening to let go dribble down to her chin, lightly wetting Ygraine's thumbs. Her silent nod is the only answer she can give, "I — I was checking up on Trent. He — I was worried, n-nobody was answering their phones. C-Conrad, Trent, fuck nobody." She turns her face to hide against one of the hands, warm lips brushing over the skin as her face turns down, as if trying to hid eher eyes with Ygraine's palm.

"I was so scared — the riot cops I — jesus christ what did I do?" Shakily, Colette's hands work their way out of her overly long sleeves, coming up to move Ygraine's hands down away from her face, even as she's struggling to keep her composure. "I — I've been hiding here I — I don't know what happened to Jupiter. And — and I can't tell Judah — he — oh god, I don't even know if they're okay."

Ygraine runs one hand through Colette's hair, brushing it back from her face to let her more easily study it. Frowning deeply, she sighs quietly. "Colette… c'mon. Tell me. Who haven't you heard from? What do you need to know? I'll help you find it out if I can, I promise. But you need to tell me."

"You don't know them." She dismisses with a shake of her head, lips pursing together as she leans against Ygraine as fingers work through her hair, calming a bit at the gesture. "I — T-there's — Some people I know. I — This Italian guy named Teo," she pronounces it wrong to this very day, "And an older guy named Conrad. H-he — he was… they're friends, and — I met Teo at the church, a-and, and Conrad's a buddy of his. They — " She has no reason not to be honest with Ygraine, but at the same time so much fear. "Conrad was… helping me." But fear of so many incorrect things, when there are so many more things to be afraid of in this world.

"You." She adds afterwards, laughing awkwardly as she leans against Ygraine, resting her head down against the older woman's shoulder, eyes closing. "I — I guess you're here, s-so…" Her jaw tenses, "Tamara's… I don't know. I saw her, like, a while ago but — " She swallows again, anxiously, "Everything is so — fucked." The girl's profanity, at least, hasn't seemed to chang one bit, for better or worse.

Ygraine blinks slowly, brows lifting out of their frown to deliver a brief startled look, before lowering once more. "This… Conrad", she says warily. "Helping you. Would that by any chance be with the training that I offered, but you didn't take up?" She offers a gentle smile. "Tamara… Tamara we both knew would hurt you. That she'd come and go. That… there're too many fractures between her and the here and now. Don't worry about her more than you have to, Colette."

"Conrad's…" Colette looks away, "He — yeah." Her eyes close partly, "I'm sorry I — I didn't want anybody's help, but — that Teo guy, he — " She winces and presses her nose against Ygraine's shoulder firmly. "He offered, and… he's a nice guy. He — he's probably fine. I'm being — " Colette cuts herself off when Ygraine mentions Tamara, and the young girl pushes herself away slowly, wiping one hand hastily over her eyes as she sniffles quietly. "Don't talk about her like that." She's emotional, and defensive, "I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her — I — I'll worry about her as much as I want." Raising her voice just a bit too much on the end of that sentence, Colette winces and looks away, covering her mouth with her hand as she stumbles down the hall and back towards the living room.

"I — god — I'm sorry." Her shoulder bumps against the wall, and she just slouches there with her back to Ygraine, silhouetted by the lamp in the living room, dark hair a messy mop on the top of her head. "I'm so sorry, I — that wasn't fair."

Ygraine manages to offer another smile, this one distinctly lop-sided. "I was here when the Bomb went off, you know?", she offers gently. "I went insane afterwards. Spent months in an asylum, before they let me out. Still got fractures aplenty up here, however." She tap-taps at her temple. "Believe me - I'm not being rude about Tamara. I know she's someone you love, and I'm not… doing that down in any way, I promise."

There's just a quiet sigh from Colette, her head bobbing in a nod with her back still to the Brit. It takes a moment, but she gets herself up off of the wall and starts walking into the light of the living room, shuffling towards the kitchen. "I shouldn't have ever taken Conrad's offer. I shouldn't — "

She stops and runs both hands through her hair, dark strands a tangle between her fingers. "I — I hurt some police." She just stands there after saying that, quiet for too short a time for a response to be given. "They were — I don't know — riot cops or something. I was so scared, and they were coming right at us. I just — I blinded them all. I just — it was so sunny, and I wasn't thinking, and…" She doesn't even bring up the topic of Tamara again, that's just too sore of an issue for her to deal with right now, to cope with. All that affection, all those unsaid words, there's no way that's going to stop hurting enough to be rational about any time soon.

Ygraine takes the chance offered by Colette's back being turned to close her eyes and lower her head, pinching at the bridge of her nose for a few moments. When she looks up once more, her voice is tired but still gentle. "Colette - if there were a load of police who'd been blinded by an Evolved rioter, I think there'd be wanted alerts all over the news. Since there's not… you probably just dazzled them. Riot police have those visors, remember?" She doesn't know if they help to protect from sudden dazzling, but she can hope they do. "Stop beating yourself up over surviving!"

Felix Ivanov is still suspended. There's a lot of brass and a lot of blood on the ground courtesty of one Agent Ivanov of late, and that has not gone unnoticed, especially by his superiors. Which means that Felix is, save for some time spent debriefing, mostly with idle hands and idle head these days. And thus while he's sought out Judah's perhaps overcrowded little apartment. He's in blue oxford shirt, dark grey slacks, white scarf, charcoal overcoat and matching hat, to all appearances another businessman off work a little early. There's a crisp knocking at Judah's door - not enough to startle one, since it's not the pounding of a squad of cops wanting in.

"I'm beating myself up over hurting people!" Colette waves one hand wildly as she turns around with that snapped comment, "I — If he never taught me how to control my ability I wouldn't have ever been able to do that!" Shaking her head as she shouts, Colette keeps one hand in her hair, fingers curling tightly, "I wouldn't have — I just — I hurt people! They weren't even — they're cops! I — I shouldn't have even — "

Smoothing that hand down from her hair to wipe across her face, Colette just hunches against the island dividing the living room from the kitchen. "I didn't… god damnit I didn't want to hurt anyone. I just — I shouldn't have even done it!" She finally looks up, shoulders louched and head down. "It was like second-nature, it was just — I did it before I even thought about it. Just — " The sudden knocking at the door causes what little color she had worked into her face from shouting to drain away. Her eyes dart to the door, then to Ygraine with a pleading see who that is for me look on her face.

Ygraine had been about to move to take hold of Colette… but instead pauses momentarily, then nods and offers a weary smile. "Sure", she murmurs, before turning to peer out the door's peephole, not expecting to have the faintest idea of who might be out there. "Thin guy in a suit", she says softly to Colette, turning her head so the sound shouldn't carry through the door to the hall outside. "No visible badges, but the suit's too good… hang on."

Stepping away from the door, she frowns worriedly at Colette. "I… some time back, you mentioned… but he's dead. But that guy - Ivanovic? Ivanov? Something like that. The guy's a Fed…. And I think his name's Felix."

Colette's eyes snap up to the door even at thin guy in a suit, but when Ygraine mentions his name, Colette shrinks back and away with one hand covering her face. "Shit," she whispers sharply, and against what her gestures seem to be saying, she rises up and away from the island and begins shuffling towards the door. "He's… like a cat, I guess." It's the best answer she can give, moving over to the door as she turns the deadbolt and cracks it open.

The face that greets Felix when the door opens isn't a happy one. Colette's mismatched eyes are rung with dark circles, and she looks paler than usual. The cut on her forehead that she had when Felix saw her at the trailer park is still healing, and it's obvious she didn't get it then, since it was already scabbed over by that point. "What do you want?" That's not the girl's usual tone, and it certainly isn't her usual expression either. Espescially since she isn't welcoming him in.

Felix's voice is unwontedly gentle, as he replies, "We need to talk. You and I. Is Judah at home?" He's fairly sure Demsky won't be - not that hard to figure out what the cop's shifts are these days, and appear when Judah's wrapped up at work. He lifts his chin, eyeing her and then the apartment beyond. "There's someone there with you, isn't there?" His tone is not accusing, merely curious.
For her part, Ygraine is loitering out of sight - easy enough to do when the door's not yet opened properly, but she moves quietly through to the kitchen, head cocked as she listens intently.

"Judah's down at the station, looking to see if anyone found Jupiter." Colette keeps her answer terse, and she doesn't give any regarding whether she's alone or not. "What do you want, Felix?" Her eyes are reddened around the edges, it looks for all her worth like she's been crying, not too recently, but frequently. "I don't want — I don't have time for a lecture right now."

"I'm not here to lecture you, Colette," he says, with that maddening serenity. "I have a feeling we're both tugging at separate ends of a single problem, so we might as well talk it out. If now's not good, then I can come back another time," Fel doesn't try to force his way in, but there's still that listening, cat at a mousehole air.

Which is somewhat mirrored from within the flat - though perhaps Ygraine is feeling rather more the mouse at present. She continues to lurk in apprehensive silence, casting occasional glances towards the window while wondering if it can be quickly opened sufficiently for her to slip out.

"Later." Colette says with a strained tone of voice, leaning on the door until it closes. When it does, she just leans forward and lets her head thunk against the wood, fingers still curled around the doorknob. Anything she can do to avoid a confrontationw ith Ivanov right now, after everything that happened in the trailer park, after — "Ygraine," she says quietly, maybe enough not to be heard through the door, maybe not. "Just… wait till he leaves, then…" Shaking her head subtly, Colette waves towards the door, forgetting to lock it again as she shuffles across the hardwood floor towards the sofa. "I — I'm sorry for… leaving so many messages on your phone. For…" Her eyes close, one hand rubbing gently at the area around the cut on her forehead. "You… can just go, whenever."

Felix waits, patiently, at the door. Really, he should be leaving. But instead, he's sitting there, just another gray man in agray coat, face still, but eyes alive, intent.

Ygraine emerges from the kitchen a couple of moments after the door closes. She offers Colette a low laugh, then strides forward to cup the girl's face in both hands once more. "Don't be so stupid", she murmurs. "I'm here to help. I've spent enough time on my own, worrying and fretting, in the past few days - in the past couple of years. If I can do something useful here, I will. I don't promise to make it all better, but I can be honest. And I've learned a few things over the years. Maybe I can even help."

She's thankful for the contact, and the look in her eyes says she doesn't want it to break, but when her hands gently move Ygraine's from her face and she steps away, it's clearly what she has her heart set on. "I don't need anyone's help." There's an adamancy there, even if it's born out of stubbornness. "That — I'm going to tell Conrad that whenever I get in touch with him. That we're done."

The young girl's brows furrow together, "I can't — I'm done leaning up on everyone else. I can't just — " She looks around the apartment, hiding her face with on ehand. "I can't just keep relying on people to rescue me whenever there's a problem. I have to take what…" Her words trail off, "I — " the young girl's eyes lift up to look at Ygraine from the floor. "I appreciate it, but… I need to learn to stand on my own two feet, even if I've gotta' fall over to do it." Too stubborn.

Ygraine snorts softly. "No, Colette. There's a difference between taking responsibility for your actions, and refusing to take advantage of offers to give you things you need. The best athletes in the world have _more_ coaches than the worst ones. There's always something a knowledgable pair of eyes might be able to see that you can't. You say you think you're dangerous - so learn from someone who learned to control their ability. To not have it kick in randomly. To avoid giving themselves away or hurting people."

She shakes her head, but gently rather than angrily, her voice intense but pitched low as she continues. "Refusing help isn't necessarily being responsible or grown up, though I know it feels like it. That's something most people have years to learn, but if you want to avoid any more accidents - well, you're something of a special case. Do what you _need_ to do yourself - but if you want to figure out more of what's going on, with you and the world, take the help of friends who offer it, if they've something _to_ offer. I've never dealt with photokinesis - but I _have_ dealt with going through learning to control things on my own, and I _wish_ I'd had help."

Those last words cause Colette to look away, wrapping her arms around herself as her head hangs. "I…"

"It used to." allows Conrad, grinning a little. He crosses his arms. "I used to do all this. Only by myself, nobody chewing my ass when I got all hung up on what I did or wasn't doing, or did wrong. Which, I wish I'd had that. Because of the way I had to teach myself, I made myself deaf."

Colette cuts off her words with a sigh, fingers curling in the bright red fabric of her hooded sweatshirt. "I just…" Forcing her eyes shut, Colette lets out a faint sound in the back of her throat and nods slowly. "I… well, I — Even if I do need someone I — Conrad's…" She turns, looking over her shoulder at Ygraine as she does. "He's been… a lot of help to me. I mean — I know you offered first, but I just — he's been a really awesome teacher, he… he knows everything I can do, and…" She smiles faintly, "He doesn't really put up with my crap." It's admiration in her voice, admiration and a fair bit of reluctance.

"Maybe, I mean — if you talk to him, maybe you two can…" Colette grumbles to herself, "I — I don't know I — I don't know if I want to learn more. I — I can already control it, I just — I'm…" She forces her eyes shut again, teeth tugging on her lower lip. "I'm scared I'm learning too much."

"All right. First off. You're powerful. You're damn powerful. I'm glad we started down here." Con gestures around at the gloom, noting the lack of light. "I have a feeling the more you learn how to use this shit, the more potentially dangerous you'll be. So be ready for that. You're gonna have to come to terms with the fact that compared to most people you have a lot of power at your fingertips. Now, there's no NOT learning this shit. If you don't learn how to control it, you're just gonna fuck things up by accident. The only way you'll be able to have some kind of normal existence is if you put a handle on it. Okay?"

Wrinkling her nose, it's like every time Colette turns to run away from her problems, there's a little hint of Conrad leaning over her shoulder, slapping her in the face and trying to remind her of everything she could be doing wrong. "I don't know… what to do." She murmurs, settling down on the arm of the sofa.

There's another, somewhat obvious choice for a possible trainer. Currently half-crouched in the hall with his hat off and his ear to the wood, like something out of an old movie. Yes, Felix is a nosy bastard, this has been established. It's like trying to yank a bloodhound off a trail. And unfortunately, Judah's ward is the one laying the tracks, for the moment.

Ygraine permits herself another heavy sigh, moving to sit beside Colette, looking up at her. "You need to learn how to control it even when you're not thinking about it. When you're startled, or scared, or tired, or angry… you need it to come only when you want it to, and not otherwise. In my case, I needed not to literally leap onto a wall when surprised - or find myself stuck to a door. Or unable to let go of a mug, or…"

She shakes her head, bites her lip, then ventures onto the topic she's been avoiding. "Conrad - would he be a fairly big guy, dark hair, older'n me, impressive chin…?" She's clearly nervous.

Impressive chin. Colette can't help but laugh at that, "Y-yeah," she says with a growing smile, trying to think of something a bit more positive as her head tilts to the side. "Yeah, that sounds like him. Always stern-talking, and wearing a different sports jacket every day, like he's just got a whole closet full of 'em or something?" Her nose wrinkles and she laughs, giving her head a shake. "He's awesome, I mean, for an old guy. He's got this — " Her voice grows a bit quieter, but it doesn't deter Felix's eavesdropping. "He like, does this stuff with sound it's awesome. I guess he said that our powers aren't too different," she pauses, grimacing, "powers, that — that's so weird to say…"

Ygraine musters a very weak laugh. "I met him three times", she says gently. "The first, he insulted me. The next… he attempted to persuade me that I should use my abilities as a weapon - see if I could break the rules under which I operate, and glue someone to something loose, and it to them. So they'd break free of Earth's gravity. Be thrown off into space." She lifts her gaze to Colette, reaching up for her hand. "And the third… the very last thing he said was "groovy", as he helped save the world. He brought down a building on a bomb - far worse than even The Bomb. But he had to be inside to do it."

Dead silence is Colette's response, just dead and awkward silence as she stares ta Ygraine, lips parted in her silence. She jumps up from the arm of the sofa, practically tripping over her own feet enough to bump right into the wall between two windows, "That's not fucking funny!" She shouts, dark brows lowered as she waves one hand, "Look — I'm sorry I went to him for help and not you I just — I don't know why I did, but that's not fucking funny!"

Colette storms away from the couch, one hand raking through her hair before she stops and turns, pointing to Ygraine as her voice raises further, "You know how fucking upset I am right now, don't you dare joke about shit like that! A-after — after everyone I've lost recently, after — Don't you fucking joke about that!" One hand flails wildly towards the door, eyes watering, "Just — get out!" It has to be a lie, Conrad can't be dead. He'd never die, not like that.

Once again, Colette's managed to find a way to hurt Ygraine - and badly, if the expression that flickers across her face is any measure. She drops her head, exhaling slowly. "I was busy saving someone else", she says weakly. "He charged off on his own. I think he knew what he was going to do, or at least had it in the back of his mind. I got hit on the head by part of the building when it came down. That's why I disappeared for a couple of days. I was recovering from concussion. My helmet saved me from worse."

Which means it's time to go, lest he be caught. Fel sneaks away. Tiptoeing at speed takes him from the door at the pace roughly equivalent to a jog.

That isn't the reaction Colette expected. The girl is taken aback by the change in Ygraine's demeanor, and the way she continues to say what she does. Colette's small hand raises up to cover her mouth again, this time to try and muffle the sound of a choked whimper that slips from her lips. There's so much to take in right there; Ygraine knew Conrad, Conrad destroyed a whole building, Conrad is dead. Her jaw trembles, lips going slack as she just tears up right there, a squeaking whimper of sound slipping past her lips in what might have been an aborted attempt to talk.

Shaking, Colette moves her hand that isn't trying to silence the weak sounds coming from her, and just reaches out at Ygraine, as if trying to draw her in with her fingers. It's a somewhat pathetic gesture, one that accompanies a bizarre shifting of the apartment around Colette. The color is draining out of everything in her presence; the rich hue of the wood, the color of the marble countertop, the paint on the walls. Everything including Colette is turning monochromatic, draining away like the color bleeding from a watercolor painting.

The colour-shift is what prompts Ygraine to raise her gaze, head moving slowly as if she's very tired indeed. "Colette. Come here", she says quietly, holding out her own hand as she rises, but doesn't step towards the younger woman. "I had no idea you knew him, before just now. But… his last word was "groovy". I think it's safe to say he knew what he was doing, and why, and thought it was worth it."

She's either aware of the color change and doesn't care, or she's oblivious to the desaturation of her environment. It has to be one of the other, because her reaction just a few shaky steps towards Ygraine's voice. She whimpers quietly, hands trembling as she just moves to the Brit's side, but isn't so presumptuous to believe that her acceptance of what Ygraine was saying makes the hurtful words she said go away. So she just stands there, one hand over her mouth, head down and a sickening feeling in her stomach. She can't form words, she can just cry.

Ygraine gently, carefully pulls Colette into a hug, closing her eyes and lightly resting her cheek against the young woman's hair as she listens to her cry. One hand strokes slowly at her back, the other just holding her in place, while its owner bites back the urge to break into sobs of her own.

At least they can agree about one thing.

Conrad will be missed.

February 4th: No Good Deed...
February 4th: Hue
Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License