Participants:
| Scene Title | Do What Is Right |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | In the wake of an argument hope, support, and sadness are found when one person's decision is made clear. |
| Date | August 1, 2011 |
In Dreams
The corridor is empty and cold; Lene's fingers curl into the cuffs off her hoodie as she sits crosslegged in a corner, a history textbook in her lap. It's dilapidated, found in the refuge of a ruined library, and it only gets to the year 2025, but it's something, something to study up on and something to do to take her mind off of the discussion she'd fled from moments ago.
Her eyes are red-rimmed from crying — tears probably will do little to impress upon her guardians her maturity and readiness for the task she is asking to do, but passion and conviction also go a long way.
She sniffles and wipes her face with the back of her sleeve before turning the page to read about the significant events of 2010. She uncaps a yellow highlighter with her teeth to underline some key moments.
Sneaking up would be hard to do for just about anyone, the sound of shoes hitting teh gorund echoing down the corridor. Not that that is the goal at the moment, of all the things that could be done, sneaking up on and scaring Jolene is not particularly the first thing on the approaching figure's mind, her arms crossed in front of her as she walks forward.
Robyn Quinn’s didn’t come immediately looking for Jolene; typically preferring to give the young woman at least a bit of space when she seems to need it, at least for a little bit. But even at her age, that can only last so long, and though she should be checking in on a few other things by now, this is where she finds herself, flat soled tennis shoes making echoing sounds as she walks down the corridor.
When she spots Jolene, a small smile forms on the older woman's face, her arms falling down to her side as she starts her approach. "Hey there, kiddo. I was wondering where you got off to." Spoken softly as to not startle her, in case the sound of footsteps hadn't already. “How’re you holdin’ up?”
The younger woman looks up, shaggy brown hair falling into her eyes before she tips her head back to shake it out. "Hey, Rob," she says lightly, as if she hadn't been a volatile argument less than an hour ago.
With Quinn nearby, Lene smiles, lifting a hand and letting float a ball of warm gold light that rises to hover between them, illuminating the corridor so they can see one another a bit better. She then sets down the book and rises so that Quinn doesn't feel the need to crouch down or sit on the cold, hard floor. "I'm all right," she says, hands shoving into her pockets and her gaze dropping to study her feet.
Though Quinn doesn't vocalise it, the standing is appreciated - no intentions of looming over Jolene, but no desire to get down low to the ground to speak with her either. The light is nice too, saving her the trouble of expending her ability for the moment. Her smile doesn't abate when Jolene's hands retreat into her pocket. Instead, it grows a bit, a mixture of fondness and amusement carried in it.
"Well, I think we both know that's not entirely true," she replies, rather matter of factly, a hand moving to rest on Jolene's shoulder. "Come on. Take a walk with me." It's not the most senic of places, but sometimes the walk isn't the actual point. "Unless you want to stay here a bit longer, though I would much rather you not."
The younger woman — just a girl, really, and hardly the most mature of 20-year-olds, no matter how many troubles she's seen — smiles a bit wryly when Quinn calls her on the white lie. She shrugs.
"Honesty's overrated. You want me to be like one of those old ladies who tell you their sciatica is acting up and they feel the cold spell coming in their arthritic left funny bone or whatever?" she quips, but she lets Quinn maneuver her, falling into step with the Irish woman.
Lene is uncharacteristically quiet, though the way she chews her lower lip suggests she's mulling over something, trying to get the words right. Instead, she stays silent.
"I might be one of those old woman so, so I would watch it." It's not a quick retort, but when it comes, it's said with a smile. Quinn's pace isn't one that displays any sort of hurry. It's mostly walknig for teh sake of walking, for the sake of doing something while they talk.
Though talking isn't the immediate thing that happens. Like Jolene, Quinn seems to be silent foer the first few moments as she mulls over exactly what it is she wants to say. A glance is given back to where J;ene had been sitting, to the book she'd had with her. "What were you reading?" is a question of genuine curiosity, one that isn't answered before mother looks down at adopted child, expression soft. "Honesty's overrated sometimes," she corrects. "And never when it's important. ou knoq that. So, come on then. Out with it."
Lene's cheeks grow rosy with the very gentle reprimand, and she smiles wryly. "History textbook I found at the old library," she answers, honestly enough. "Studying up so we don't make stupid mistakes about things we should know."
The way she says it, she sounds certain of the fact she will in fact be going. After a beat, she realizes the confidence in her diction contradicts the tension of the evening. "I mean, if we go," she adds, turning the corner into another long corridor.
"We're not doing this for some grand adventure or anything," she suddenly bursts out, turning to look at Quinn, green eyes flashing. "It's to make a difference. To make things better so we don't have to live like this." A hand jerks to indicate their surroundings.
Quinn closes her eyes for a moment at Jolene's outburst, stopping and turning to face her as she lets out a bit of a sigh. It's more of a weary one than one of annoyance or displeasure, and the smile, whle dulling a bit, never wavers.
"I guess I shouldn't be surprised," she says quietly, arms crossing as her eyes slowly open, head tilting to look Jolene right in her green eyes. "I don't think anyone thinks your diong this for a thrill," she says, voice just for a moment a bit flater. "But it's dangerous. You can just as easily make things worse." This, however, is all things that have been talked about already, so Quinn raises a hand in an attempt to symbolicly stop that line of conversation before it erupts into another argument. Instead she takes a breath, and rreturns her gaze to Jolene's.
"And you're sure this is what you want to do?"
Leaning against the wall, Lene crosses her arms defensively, looking away when the discussion goes toward all the reasons not to go back into the past. At the candid question, she takes a breath, then nods.
"We can't really make it any worse, do you think?" she says, uncharacteristically solemnly, calmly. "We can try to stop people from doing the things that get us to this point. We're armed with knowledge they don't have, and we have ways to show them what things are like now. It has to work."
Quinn watches Jolene for a few silent moments, a quiet look of assessment sitting across her face, arms still crossed as she watches the young girl. It takes a moment, but her smile returns in a moer full manner, and her arms uncross as she starts over Jolene, soft footfalls resuming their echoing down the long corridor. She remains quiet until she reaches Jolene, again moving to place a hand on her adopted daughter's shoulder.
"You're a grown woman now, Jolene," might sound like the beginning of something from a Very Special Episode of some rubbish 90s television show, but that doesn't deter Quinn. "I know what Ygraine told you." Taking a deep breath, she exhales slowly., eyes closing again. "Whatever you do, I want you to know that I love and support you. But whatever it is you do, I want you to make sure it's what you think is for the best. Alright?"
Green eyes drop as they fill with tears, and Lene nods, just two small bobs of her head to show she heard. She swallows audibly, then looks up again. "Thank you," is whispered, before she pushes from the wall to wrap lanky arms around the shorter woman. "I won't tell her you told me that, if you won't," she adds, a little conspiratorially, small smile curving her lips upward.
Knocking her forehead against Quinn's, she then straightens. "If the council approves the idea, I'm going to go… I love you guys to death, and I appreciate everything you've ever done for me, but I can't stay here if they go, even if it means… even if it's hard…"
"I don't think she's above not speaking t' me for a bit, particularly about something like this," Quinn replies with a quiet little laugh, arms coiling around Jolene as she returns the hug. Jolene tearing up is having the same effect on her, her eyes welling up a bit as she pulls Jolene into a bit of a tighter hug.
When Jolene stands straight again, Quinn lets out a bit of a sigh, wiping one of her eyes. "It'll be hard for us all," Quinn says quietly, eyes half lidded. "I don't know as much about these matters as others. Small experiances and movies, mostly, and none of it's as reliable as I would like. But in case of the worse…" In case they can't come back, though Quinn manages to keep herself from saying that, "I want you to know that we love you. And we'll miss you. And when we see you again, we're both going to give you the biggest hug we can." There's a noticable waver in Quinn's voice as she speaks the last part. "Please. Be safe. If you go back and get hurt, I'll know. I promise you, I will. ANd I will not be happy."
"I don't want you to fight because of me," Lene whispers, snuffling in that unladylike way and then running her hoodie sleeve across her face. "But it means a lot. That you support me in this. And it means a lot that… that I know her reasons for not wanting me to go are because she loves me. I don't know a lot of things, and I'm not good at much except stealing other people's tricks and ideas, but I know that the only way people can hurt us emotionally is if we care about them."
She loosens her hug on Quinn but reaches to take the other's hand to continue their walk. "We don't mean to hurt anyone by leaving… but I know losing people is hard. I won't hold it against her," she continues in a soft voice.
"Well, if you meant to hurt anyone," Quinn says softly, "you wouldn't be doing the right thing, and I'd get to bop you one, I don't care how old you are." Mostly a joke. Mostly. "She's scared. She's been through a lot. I don't blame her for how she feels in the least. But I think, deep down, she supports you too. And I think, deep down, she knows that we can't really stop you from doing this." There's still that undercurrent of sadness to Quinn's voice as she speaks, try as she might not to show it.
She's quick to resume the walk, though, as if that'll take her mind a bit off of it. "You're a bright younh woman, Jolene. I know you're good for much more than that. We love you. I love you. And I'm sure you'll do fine. Just… any time you think you're not, just remember that you can do anything. You in particular." To say that there's no reservation in Quinn's voice would be lying, but she wears her smile still, looking over at Jolene as she speaks.
"I might have to hurt a few people, when I get there, but only if they deserve it. And not you guys," Lene says, squeezing Quinn's hand again. Her hand comes up to swipe away her tears once again.
"I don't know if… you know. Time travel protocol, paradoxes, all that stuff… I'm not sure if I'll be able to see you once I get there, but … but maybe if suddenly you have a memory of someone who looks like me sometime in your past that wasn't there before, maybe it means we're doing something right." Lene chews her lip for a moment, then smirks. "Hopefully you'll wake up in a penthouse apartment with a platinum record and a world tour scheduled," she adds, her usual boisterousness pushing away the more solemn mood Quinn had discovered her in.
"I've never been so sure on that myself," Quinn remarks thoughtfully, amusedly. "I've heard differing thoughts and opinions over the years." Not that it really comes up often. Mostly in old stories and reminiscing. The talk of hurting people causes kind of a reflexive wince from Quinn. "It's unfortunate. I'd rather you not, of course, but sometimes we can't avoid it. Just… do what you have to do." She says this, thinking the pistol that even know is carried on her person, just in case.
The mood lightens a bit, and Quinn lets out a sigh of relief. "Wouldn't that be wonderful? Don't go promising things you don't plan to follow through on." A pause. "Though I'd still miss you and Ygraine, if that happened. A mixed blessing, I guess." She stops, turning to face Jolene once more. "Don't worry about paradoxes. Things will work themselves out, somehow. Just… I dunno. I have no idea what to tell you if you see me. Except to buy a CD, I guess." She laughs, more genuinely this time, before turning back towards teh way they came. "Are you ready to head back? I'm sure Ygraine'll get suspicious if we're both gone too long."
Lene lets go of Quinn’s hand to wrap an arm around the shorter woman's shoulders. "Buy a CD. You are such a self-promoter, Rob. Jesus." The criticism is all of the mocking sort, and a genuine smile has replaced the uncertain ones of the earlier conversation.
"Yeah, let's go back. Also, I didn't finish my dinner and I'm pretty damn hungry. It's just way less dramatic to have a temper tantrum where you storm out of the room and take your plate with you, you know?" She grins impishly at Quinn and turns the corner that will lead them back to the corridor she left her book in.
"I'm glad you didn't. We don't have many of those, and they break easily." Quinn looks back ahead, again speaking in that matter-of-fact tone. "We'll have to see what we can do about getting it properly reheated, but it should still be fine."
With the arm draped around her (and the ever present feeling that it should be the other way around), Quinn seems noticeably more comfortable, and yet, still very tense. But who could blame her, knowing what's likely coming? She reaches up, ruffling the younger woman's hair, and sighs. "By now, I'm sure she's calmed down. I bet you the first thing she'll do when we get back is give you a hug and say she's sorry."
Shaking her hair out of her eyes when Quinn's ruffling displaces it, Lene smiles. "I wish I could pack some of those to go with me. Yours too. They have the power to fix almost anything." Not the hardest of things, of course, but boo-boos and heartache from crushes, anyway.
She stoops to pick up the history book from the corner she left it in, shoving the highlighter in her pocket. "Thanks, Rob. I'm going to miss you. So much." The confidence and optimism in her voice that the mission will be on is only flawed by the sadness and longing for losing her family — again.