Participants:
| Scene Title | Girls Will Be Girls |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | It starts out well enough; Elle makes arrangements with Helena on the matter of leaving Phoenix. But hell hath no fury like a woman with an immature grudge. Elle doesn't even start it this time. |
| Date | June 18, 2009 |
Village Renaissance Building - Fourth Floor Safehouse
Trask is who knows where, but it's not in the apartment Elle is in, since Helena has honored the agreement to allot Elle more freedom. Having received the other blonde's request to speak, she knocks on the apartment door and calls out that it's herself while waiting for Elle to open up. Helena has been visibly frustrated at the lack of success in helping Elle, which might be surprising considering the pair seem to have little love lost for each other.
Be rest assured— that feeling is mutual, and any discomfort displayed by Helena has either gone mostly unnoticed by Elle or observed with some bemusement. Really, the only real reason she chooses to call upon the atmokinetic now is because she really has little choice; the invitation would've gone to whoever is in the position Helena currently occupies. The door swings open not too long after the knock, and a short "Hey," comes through once Elle sees who it is. She can already be seen moving away from the door again, towards the sofa, probably expecting Helena to shut it again on her own.
Helena does in fact close the door behind her - she's not exactly a fan of Elle being at her back anyway. There's no need to worry about her poker face hiding her general dislike of Elle, she knows it's business time. She does however, take a seat on the couch without invite to do so. "You asked to talk to me?"
"I did." Elle's bearing doesn't betray much besides vaguely scornful attentiveness, her eyes flatly following Helena over to the couch. She doesn't take a seat at first, but remains pacing with slow, deliberate steps in the area before the coffee table, arms folded; she halts solidly when she's in front of the other blonde. "The healing? You can forget about it," she starts, head at a tilt. "I won't need it."
Helena's brows lift in cautious surprise. "Alright." she says. Apologies start to work their way onto her tongue, but she bids them halt. They tried. Elle knows it. "So that leads us to the discussion of you parting ways with us." Not a question. Instead, that comes from an entirely different direction. "You might want to consider yourself lucky. Arthur Petrelli's been going around stealing people's abilities. Being here, he didn't have the chance to take yours. He nearly killed Peter, as well as several others."
"It's not just because you tried, over and over— but I've thought about it, and I really don't," Elle states to fill the questioning gap hanging in midair, a hint of irony seeping into her voice. The experimentation, when one takes everything into account, had only been one tiny part of a whole.
There's a sharp, curious look at the mention of the Petrellis. "Peter had my ability. If Arthur took Peter's, he wouldn't need mine again." There's an unspoken sort of 'go on', though, and her head remains tilted.
Helena shakes her head. "There was a guy - Tyler Case. He had an ability that could actually swap powers, and for a while, Peter had Gabriel Grey's ability. I know for a fact that Arthur's taken it, along with Gabriel's entire catalog of powers. Peter's with him at Pinehearst, apparently crippled, and I'm fairly certain completely under his father's sway. I know at least one of their projects involved trying to develop a formula to produce synthetic abilities in Non-Evolved people. I'm pretty sure he intends to give it to the government once it's completed and use it to bolster Frontline." Elle hasn't been prevented from watching the news.
All of that makes Elle's eyebrows arch as well. "So what do you want me to do about it?" she inquires, one fingertip absently scratching a spot on her forearm; at least her question about how Phoenix regards present-day Pinehearst has been answered. "…Aside from try to keep my power from being stolen. Though there isn't a lot I can do about it, if it happens." Either she can take care of herself, as she's pretty confident she can do, or Arthur in his mini-god glory could overpower her in a single swipe anyway. The latter's more likely.
"You don't have to do anything at all." Helena says, "But you deserve to know the state of things such as they are." Helena says. "Pinehearst needs bringing down. They've even got infiltrators in some pretty high levels of Primatech. So everything needs doing carefully. The Company may or may not fall, but Pinehearst has to. If you're interested in being a part of that…" Helena shrugs, leaves it at that. If she's not, no skin off her nose.
"Sounds like you've been keeping your little parade busy." Elle notes, her tone at once leaning towards becoming more casual, as well as indifferent. "If I said I was interested. What would you have me do?" Just a neutral inquiry— as in, what's in it for her? Helena must know she doesn't have an especial grudge against Pinehearst, nor Arthur in particular.
"We're still sorting out strategy." Helena admits. "Knowing who we'd have to be able to help faciliate our goals would help things. It's not like your power is passive. I'm not going to hang your freedom over your head. We tried to get you healing and we failed, which does not mean we'll renege on our agreement." She just seems tired now, as much of Elle's contempt as anything else.
Not so much contempt for its own sake, as a general lack of being used to trusting! Elle isn't one of those people who wears emotions on their sleeves much of the time, as Trask, at least, is aware. "You know, if I do end up leaving the Company," she ventures suddenly, coming to the end of some roundabout, troubling thought process, "And right now, I'm not really inclined to stay in it, I'll be needing a place to camp out. I hate to ask, but if you'd let me—" And here, she casts her eyes up and to the side, briefly, as if indicating this very room. There's a fluttering blink; a dry smile that burns out quickly. She really does hate asking. "— Come back, later. If I needed to. I might think about what you're asking."
Helena nods. "That's doable." she says. "A couple of other things - I sort of thought, if you did leave the Company? I kind of got the impression you're not sure what you'd do with yourself. There's a company called Chicago Air, the owner is pro-Evolved and we've worked with them a bit. He'd be willing to figure out a place for you. If that's not good, we'd still help you figure stuff out. If you want to build a life, we do have the resources to help you do it."
Elle is silent for just a moment, musing. Yeah, Helena had definitely read that correctly. "I'd be open to it," she says with something like an inhalation, self-aware of her own movements as she shifts her weight against the floor. "None of that will come until later, though. I do want to go back to the Company at least once — tie up loose knots and things. What were you saying, about how we'd part ways?"
"I was hoping," Helena pauses, working her jaw a little, "The fact of the matter is that you do need your freedom, we can't keep you indefinitely, but I'm hoping that you realize that we're not the enemy we're painted. You may not like us - hell, I know you don't like me, and I don't like you either." At that, there's a little wry smirk. "But I don't have to like you to trust you, and you don't have to like me for us to help you. Which we will, as long as you don't fuck us over. Which my impression is now, you won't. So I guess here's where it stands: you clean up your loose ends and you come back to us, we help you get situated as we can. If you want in on taking down Pinehearst, that can be arranged, but no one's going to act as if it's expected or required." Elle may assume this is blanket faith, but Helena is sure at this point that if Elle backstabs them, they can make it hurt and maybe even avoid too much damage before getting away. It helps that Elle doesn't know exactly where she is.
When Helena is done, and Elle goes still in order to consider all of it, one side of her mouth curls into a mirroring smirk. There's a snort, though even with the added sense of amusement she still looks decently thoughtful. "To be honest? I have more important things, right now, than worrying about being a little backstabber. At least as far as I'm concerned, I wouldn't worry about Phoenix." Her eyes stay trained on Helena's face, the thinning of her lips into a line perhaps indicating a gesture of acknowledgement. "Yeah. I'm fine with the rest of that. Since I've pretty much said what I had to say— is that all?"
"That's all." Helena says. "When you're ready to leave, I'll make an arrangement to have you dropped off at an area of your choice, so long as it's reasonable and somewhere in the connect burroughs."
"Great." There's a delayed smile, a new one, as Elle tucks a long strand of hair behind an ear. This one, at least, seems to be a tiny bit less smirk-like. "I'll get word to you when I'm ready. Now— do you mind?" Not to kick Hel out or anything, but her gaze does suggestively flicker towards the door.
Bluntness, Elle's forte.
"Actually," Helena says thoughtfully, "One more thing." She rises and casually walks in Elle's direction - when her hand arcs out and smacks an open palm across the other woman's cheek. "Now I think we're even." Helena says amicably enough.
The immediate response is that Elle sputters after righting her head again; her fingers go up to gingerly press against her stinging cheek. Now that was unexpected. "…Bitch—" she accuses, a flare of electricity erupting about the fingers of her other hand, which curl menacingly. "Do you even remember why I slapped you the first time?"
The air grows suddenly heavy with moisture. Could Helena make it rain indoors? Potentially, yes. "I made a cruel call." Helena says frankly. "But it still doesn't entitle you to lay a hand on me. Call it square, Elle. We're both better off for it."
"Nobody entitled you to make that call," Elle snarls; the electricity sheathing her palm in a cool, hard blue light pulses— angrily— before disappearing in an eye-startling zap, hand lowering jerkily. "You watch your step, barbie. I'll find a way to get you back."
"I don't think you're one to be complaining about people and unfair or cruel entitlements." Helena says calmly enough. "I'll keep an eye on my back." And with that, she walks out, but the feeling of moisture in the air won't go away until the door's closed behind her.
