Green and Red


griffin_icon.gif rue_icon.gif

Scene Title Green and Red
Synopsis Griffin offers some advice to Rue and gives her a plan. She has no idea she's given him one as well.
Date November 28, 2011

Bannerman's Castle

The events in Cambridge have rattled Rue Lancaster more than she's let on. She's doing that thing that people so often do where they belittle their own trauma or pain by telling themselves that someone else has it worse. And Rue has plenty of examples in front of her of people who have it worse.

And there's Eve's prophecy; the one that Miss Ruskin seems to ignore. That has shaken her to her very foundations, and makes her question who is right and who is wrong. Maybe Eileen does know better than so many of them. She's seen a lot in her life, Rue knows that much, and she seems to know when to strike and when to hold back. She wants to have faith that the councilwoman is doing what's best for them and hold on to her own steadfast loyalty.

Underneath everything, Rue is just a little girl playing spies. She does the hard stuff, like train in combat with Hana and firearms with Raith, but also the silly little extracurriculars like practicing sneaking around the castle in soft-soled shoes, seeing how far she can make it before someone spots her. It's foolish, childish, but it makes her feel like she's doing something in those times where there is otherwise nothing for her to do.

Underneath it all, Griffin has been into playing spies for far too long — far longer than he can even remember, thanks in part to the Haitian's abilities. Even with Nadira back in E-Ville with the new baby, Griffin is still always doing something/…though this time, it's not for the good of all, but for the good of his family.

He's been exploring the castle, wandering about with his hands shoved into his pockets, feet not touching the ground at all as his ability carries him along. White eyes explore every nook and cranny he can find, memorizing every detail that he can — all the better to navigate around when his not-so-sudden but inevitable betrayal finally happens. For now, he's just having a leisurely stroll as he checks in with the Ferrymen for Thanksgiving — complete with pictures of the baby for those who were curious.

There's the quiet, tell-tale drag of soft leather on the floor, just around the corner ahead, that betrays a foot not lifted high enough before moving forward. The sound stops suddenly, as Rue's motions stop suddenly. That's not very stealthy, is it? Come on, one foot in front of the other now. Lift and plant. Lightly! Lightly!

Pale fingers curl around the bend at the end of the hall and that bushy mop of hair appears just before the pair of wide blue eyes. Then, they're darting back again. Oh no! Someone coming! Taking a deep breath, she steps around the corner like she wasn't just being completely strange, flashing a little smile and a small wave to Griffin on the approach. Totally normal.

The telekinetic raises an eyebrow at the young woman, drifting down to the ground where his shoes touch down silently. What's she doing, sneaking around here? He pulls one hand from his pocket, a pack of cigarettes and a lighter clasped within his long fingers. He doesn't really smoke these days, but right now? Well, right now he does. It doesn't help, but…it helps.

A cigarette is tapped loose from the pack, placed into the man's mouth and lit in one smooth motion, before the pack and lighter are returned to their place in his pocket. "If you're trying to be sneaky, I'd suggest getting your hair under control and close to your head." He lifts a hand, running it along the back of his head in demonstration. "It kind of leads the way otherwise."

The embarrassment doesn't color the girl's freckled face, but it does turn her ears a darker shade than her hair. If it weren't as out of control as it is today, it'd be more obvious just how much she'd like to fall through the floor right now. "I wasn't—" She was, but not well and not intently. "Just playing a little hide and seek." Because that's definitely less conspicuous than… whatever it was she was just doing.

Jensen Raith told her once that she has a face for intelligence. Too bad she doesn't have the mind or the good sense for it. Not yet, at least. But she's determined, and if she keeps her little games to the safety of the castle walls, she might someday learn enough that she won't get caught out by someone who actually means her harm.

"I definitely wouldn't get found if I had your ability," she says, sincere in her appreciation. "I'm still learning how to walk softly. And there's a lot fewer places to hide when you're this tall," she admits with a little wrinkle of her nose.

The tall, lanky man turns to lean against the stone wall of the hallway, taking a long drag of his cigarette. Interesting girl. A plume of smoke trails out of his mouth for a moment, before he finally speaks. "My ability helps, yes, but I'm pretty good at sneaking about without it too," he murmurs, pulling the cigarette from his mouth between two fingers. The glowing fades into green eyes that stare thoughtfully at the glowing ember of the tar-laden tube of herbs.

Then, he turns his green eyes toward Rue. "The human eye has more receptors to the colors green and red," he murmurs, pointing to her hair. "Cover that up, to start." He takes another drag from the cigarette. "And when walking softly, always make sure that your toes are the first and last point of contact with the ground." He doesn't even know this girl, but he's at least offering helpful insight. "I don't think we've met, miss…"

The young woman watches him and his cigarette while she speaks, and she's listening intently. As much as she doesn't want to admit what she was up to, she's grateful for the advice. It doesn't occur to her to ask why he's sneaking around. While she knows she's hardly alone in having an ordinary background, it seems that so many here led far more exciting lives before coming to join The Ferry. She just assumes that he's one of them.

"Lancaster," she supplies quickly, like if she's quick on the draw it will make up for poor etiquette. "Rue Lancaster. We were with the extraction crew at…" The sentence is left to decay quietly, unfinished. He knows where he was a member of an extraction crew and will probably remember the ginger curls. "Nice to meet you under better circumstances."

She's at least partially right there — Griffin has certainly led a very exciting life since joining with the Ferrymen, much to his chagrin. He has every hope that things will get boring again soon — he would love nothing more than to come home from a boring job to have a boring dinner with his boring family and watch boring television shows before going to boring bed in his boring little house with a boring little yard. With boring little chickens running around. Maybe a few ducks. Ducks are never boring.

Man, he really wishes that ducks were the least boring part of his life.

His head bobs along with Rue's words, ember flaring up at the end of his cigarette as he takes another draw of smoke. After holding it in for a moment to get the full cancerous effects, Griffin blows it up toward the ceiling above, though his eyes are on Rue. "Same," he replies. "Griffin Mihangle."

There are times when Rue misses her old life where her concerns amounted to what kind of dressing to put on her salad at lunch and searching the papers and internet for casting calls. She'll never have her face on a poster now. Not unless the world changes very drastically very soon — for the better.

But the world won't change without actors, and Rue feels obligated to act. She's seen too much to walk away now, even if she could. There's people here to protect, and people in the rest of the country - the world - who deserve better lives. "Can you fly with your ability?" Rue asks in a quiet voice. Never has she truly felt jealousy toward anyone for having an ability, just slightly defeated by the fact that she doesn't, and never will; it's why she works so hard to pick up new, practical skills.

"In a way, yes." The man peers down at the cigarette, burned halfway down to the filter. "I'm a telekinetic, but my ability takes on the shape of…well, kind of like tentacles, but with hands at the end?" He tilts his head toward Rue. "And they're kind of attached to me." He reaches back, pointing at his back. "Back there. They come from my back." This is really the first time he's actually truly explained how his ability works out — most people just know that he's a telekinetic. "So when I'm 'flying', it's more like…I'm just kinda swinging along by these super long invisible tentacle arms."

He takes another long drag from the cigarette, green eyes on Rue. "Happy late turkey day, by the way."

There's a heavy breath of appreciation that leaves her lips at the explanation of his ability. "Primal." Slang she's picked up from excited conversations with Noa. "That is so cool. That must be super helpful."

Perfect rows of white teeth are flashed in a bright smile at his well wishes. "Thank you! You as well, Mister Mihangle! I hope it was good." She doesn't recall having seen him around the mess hall for it, but that doesn't mean anything.

"It certainly has its benefits," the large-nosed man replies, quietly regarding the woman. A final drag is taken of the cigarette, before it is cast to the ground and smashed beneath Griffin's shoe. He would certainly trade the flight for teaching his daughter how to play the piano. That would be way more fun, to him.

He's so ready to be out of all of this.

"So what brings you to this side of the castle?" He raises a brow, hands sliding back into his pockets as he quietly regards the woman once more. Hm.

Rue shakes her head slowly, too guileless to know better than to answer some questions. Naive enough to think that anyone here must be as devoted to the cause as she is. A shrug of her narrow shoulders has her admitting, "I just wander. But my room's not far." She points down the corridor to indicate one of the doors toward the end.

"I don't- I don't sleep real well, though, so… It's better than staring at the ceiling all night. I'd rather be keeping watch." There's a sort of far-off look that comes to her blue eyes as she plucks an idea up and considers it. "Maybe I should ask for more patrols."

The man watches the woman thoughtfully, glancing down the hallway toward the indicated direction. Then, those green eyes are back on the woman, a pondering look within his gaze. "It never hurts to ask," he replies to her idea, smiling faintly. His hand, holding the pack of cigarettes, is pulled out of his pocket again, tapping out and lighting yet another cigarette.

Griffin only chain smokes when he's stressed out and thinking about horrible things.

With the cigarette lit, Griffin takes another long drag, before letting the smoke billow out once more, creating a brief fog between him and Rue. "I'm sure they'll appreciate the offer for help. You can learn your way around the castle even better that way too, right? This place is a maze."

The suggestion earns an enthusiastic nod that sends ginger curls bouncing. The effect is almost childlike, but she has that kind of face. Cherub cheeks, her mother would call them. "Yes! That's a great idea." She mostly knows her way around by now, after much practice, but there are still areas she doesn't venture into at night. Especially without a flashlight, and those are a commodity not to be used for little games.

Apprehension creeps into her eyes, even as her smile stays fixed. She's watching the ember on the end of his cigarette again. "Could… I have one?"

Even when he's up to no good, Griffin can't really be mean to people — he's not a bad guy at the core, he's just a selfish asshole more than anything. The cigarette pack reappears, a fresh cigarette tapped out and offered to Rue. And when ready, she'll find the lighter floating out of his pocket, flaming up on its own, and lighting her cigarette before disappearing back into his pocket — all accompanied by glowing white eyes that fade back to green once he's done showing off.

"I'm sure you'll do fine," he murmurs, flashing his most charming smile her way. He is decidedly less fresh-faced with that large, crooked nose of his, and he could certainly use a shave. He looks a little on the sleep deprived side, honestly, but that's neither here nor there…right?

That he looks sleep deprived seems only natural to her. There's a lot of haunted looks around this place. (Jensen Raith and Avi Epstein alone…) Someone looking overtired and stressed doesn't raise any flags whatsoever in her head. When Rue takes a long drag from the cigarette she places between her lips, her nose wrinkles up just slightly, cheeks going a little too taut, to suggest that this is something she does often. Still, she doesn't cough when she blows the exhales the stream of smoke again. Her lipstick - a subtle shade of mauve - stands out stark against the paper filter.

"Thank you." For the smoke and the vote of confidence. "I think I'm gonna finish this cigarette and try to get some sleep. I'll see you around, yeah?"

The telekinetic nods quietly, taking a long drag on the cigarette and pushing off of the wall. "I'm sure you will," he replies, offering the woman a faint smile that doesn't quite touch his eyes — but maybe that's because his eyes are turning white as he drifts up into the air, still puffing away at that cancer stick. "See you around." With another respectful nod to Rue, Griffin turns, drifting down the hallway, presumably toward his own bedroom.

More likely, he's going to pace the castle a bit more.

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