aurelia--ferris

[aurelia--ferris]

strike the colours || elly & open { d.m.c. }

Uh, yeah... Can I get a Delma Daiquiri—hold the lime, hold the syrup, hold the cherry, hold the raspberry, hold the ice? [Crane rolled his eyes and poured Elly two fingers of straight rum, taking her drink token without comment.] 

[She caught someone looking her way and glanced back at them.] Don’t judge me. We’re supposed to be pirates. [She waved a hand at her rather ostentatious captain’s hat for good measure.] I’m exactly as sophisticated as I wanna be.

[aurelia--ferris]

elly ferris | d.m.c. party outfit

[aurelia--ferris]

KRONOS ⌛ elly ferris, primordial god of time

For me, whatever share of excellence the throne of Fate endowed, I know full well that Khronos, although his foot be slow, shall bring it to the end ordained.

—Nemean Ode 4 by Pindar | @aurelia–ferris

[aurelia--ferris]

[aurelia--ferris]

[aurelia--ferris]

BOTTOMLESS PIT || charlie & elly

charlie-freakin-essex​:

[[ Charlie’s ‘thanks’ comes concurrent with her ‘oh, shit,’ and pausing with his finger hooked at the edge of the plate she’d pushed towards him, he wonders if they’re gonna have a problem. Well, he wonders if she’s gonna have a problem, specifically with him being a guard. Charlie has more food, so he has zero problems. ]]

I mean…  [[ He glances down at the remnants of his own meal. ]] Not more than anybody else? [[ Charlie’s pretty sure the general oppression hasn’t reached the point where authority figures have access to more food. Only guiltily does he wish that were the case, and only because he’s still really hungry. Hence why he’ll actually bother to eat her crusts, tearing a chunk off with his teeth to talk around. ]] But I need a little more than anybody else. I’m Charlie, [[ He thinks to add, with a brief nod. ]]

[That’s an acceptable argument, or as acceptable as she could likely expect. Hunger is a difficult thing to hold against anybody.] Elly Ferris---Deluded, but not technically criminal. [Seems fair that if she gets to know where he stands, being a guard and all, he can know why she might seem wary. Maybe it’ll make him uncomfortable, maybe not. She smiles, vaguely wolfish.] Yet. [Yes, it’s mostly teasing, but also who knows? It’s only Tuesday.]

[She toys with her spoon. In general she avoids the guards, because running headfirst into trouble is going to set off all sorts of internal alarms for her and won’t actually gain her anything. So she thinks for a second about how to phrase her question.] I’m curious, Charlie. How much do you actually know, about what’s going on here? Do they bring you guys into meetings to decide how stuff is run, that sorta thing? [Despite his stature, she’s finding it hard to be intimidated by him. He’s just a hungry dude, reminding her of an overgrown teenager, really.]

[aurelia--ferris]

Lonesome | Lissy & Elly

lissy-mccall​:

[[ If telepathy were more like the popular superhero sort, and if Lissy had it, she would be losing her damn mind at Elly thinking of her as anything close to ‘cheery’ or ‘wholesome’. Instead, she’s only grateful Elly seems free with her expressions, not faux-cheerfulness, not unwarranted bitchiness.

Lissy listens and probably laughs a little too much at Elly’s observations on the game of chess and it’s apparently wildly inaccurate depictions in the media. It’s a funny thing to have a strong opinion on, Lissy bets Elly has a long list of oddly specific, strongly held opinions. It’s not a bad thing, it’s admirable if anything. Lissy always wanted to be more strong-willed, more self-assured. She’s always been the sort to follow rather than lead though.

There’s a lull in Elly’s attention and Lissy doesn’t actually have anything halfway intelligent to add. So she doesn’t. She waits until Elly asks something else, which happens to be for her name. ]] Oh, it’s Lissy. No, I don’t think I ever introduced myself properly. You’re Elly. My friend Annie spoke to you. [[ Lissy explains a little too eagerly. God, she has to chill out. ]]  

[Her mouth quirks up slightly.] Shockingly, I do remember that. [Or, more accurately, she remembers the conversation with Annie---she’d even recorded the basic notes of what they’d talked about after she left, that’s how invested she’d been. Rare doesn’t begin to cover how often that happens.] 

[She looks up from the board, even as she’s speculating on how to go about explaining the basics of the game. Not a natural when it comes to teaching---or being patient in the giving of explanations, either.] I guess I kinda owe you a thank you, for making us talk the way you did. I don’t know if she’s similar at all, but it sometimes takes a nudge to get me to budge from my comfort zone. Or a firm kick in the ass would be more accurate than ‘nudge’, really. 

[aurelia--ferris]

imperfect speakers | aurelia & jr

who-is-jr​:

[[ It’s genuinely terrifying to witness: the steadfast nature of her panic. JR’s own fear felt so scattered and loosely tethered to reality. Whatever he’s witnessing with Elly feels different in more ways than one. Like there’s actually something dire happening, as though his lack of reaction was wrong.

Maybe there is, maybe it’s not blind panic. 

Elly’s hand closes on his arm. He lets her grab onto him as tight as she needs too. Elly gasps as though in physical pain. ]]  Yes, ‘course, c’mon. [[ JR takes her other hand, fully prepared to take all her body weight if needed to get her up and walking. ]] ’you good to walk?

[[ JR won’t ask yet where she wants to go. His current plan is to head out of the dining hall, get away from a crowd is the first step no matter what she says. She’s literally wincing with pain, she needs a moment to breathe before he asks her to think more.  ]]

[He doesn’t balk at the request or question it, and she begins to feel a little more in control simply moving away from other people. It does seem important that she tell him one thing, though, as he keeps talking. Tugging on his sleeve, she says, choppy syllables breaking through the cacophony:] Having trouble--- [She indicates her ears.] Hearing you. [Which is possibly the most annoying of her usual symptoms, the auditory ones that no one else can fucking hear. It’s like being at a concert or a crowded club, but everyone else has somehow has the magical ability to ignore the noise.]

[With a start she remembers, as he leads her out of the dining hall. It was during the parasite. This guy with his bucket, suds all across the floor. His stubbornness, pushing through his injuries.] I know you. Mop guy, right?

[His name still eludes her, hence the probably confusing descriptor, but she takes some small comfort in knowing that she’s at least spoken to him before. Pausing for a beat, she tries to parse the noise in her head. Eyes screwed shut, she still dreads what it could mean. It’s so loud, but the pain seems to be spiking less and it’s easier to focus on him, so... small successes.]

[aurelia--ferris]

@call-corbin

[aurelia--ferris]

BOTTOMLESS PIT || charlie & elly

charlie-freakin-essex​:

[[ Considering his size, Charlie is on-again-off-again aware of how much he needs to eat on a regular basis – a downside of the character build, he supposes, rampant stamina drain. But there has to be some kind of trade-off for this volume of muscle and strength.

Stress has left him distracted lately, though, as well as the newly discovered branch of the main questline to find the NWRF’s leak that’s imbued him with distinct tunnel vision. He’s in the dining hall towards the end of lunch thanks to a sternly-worded PDD from Ricky, having reluctantly abandoned a pile of notes on his suite’s desk. Charlie’s tray is already empty, considering he skipped breakfast, and he can’t help but none-too-subtly eye up the remnants of his neighbor’s meal. He doubts the serving line will let him take a second pass, considering how frequently he charms himself into extra portions to begin with.

Desperate times. ]] Hey, are you, uh. [[ Charlie nods towards the leftovers. ]] You gonna eat that… ?

[Elly’s spacing...] 

[The fuck....] 

[Out.............................] 

[When he asks, hesitation slowing his clear American accent (striking her for being familiar), she glances down at her plate. It contains a little crisscrossing pile of toast crusts. She hadn’t felt like having much more than the soup today, and the toast had been an afterthought. It was kind of surprising that she’d eaten as much as she had. Must’ve been unconscious, given the spoon suspended in her hand still drips periodically, the mouthful forgotten and cold and dropping slowly back into the bowl.]

[She pushes the plate over to him.] Knock yourself out, big guy. [He is big, could probably flex and his shirt’d bust off, but she’d have used the same expression even if he weren’t built like a mack truck.] 

[After a moment she realizes his face is familiar.] Oh, shit. You’re a guard. [Her face pulls down in confusion.] Don’t they like... feed you? [She uses up her teaspoon of self-restraint for the day by refraining from adding, ‘in the kennels.’ She’s not a huge fan of dehumanizing people, even if it seems... appropriately vengeful, given how she’s supposed to quietly accept being labelled insane by most of the Elites around here.]

[aurelia--ferris]

on and on and on i go  but my mind won’t take me there  down and down and down i go  as i sink in deep and i lose my air 

[aurelia--ferris]

lost in my mind → cameron & aurelia

lietzcameron​:

[[ Cameron’s surprised he doesn’t know more about Aurelia; from this brief interaction, he’s learned so much about her, about her interests and her drive and what she wants. He’s only scratched the surface, he’s sure - he’s not stupid - but from where he’s standing, she speaks her mind and is unafraid of it - something the NWRF, in his experience, don’t always appreciate. It can be a quite powerful act of bravery, holding fast to your beliefs against forces that want nothing more than for you to toe the line. And while he doesn’t believe in favorite students, he always preferred the ones that spoke their minds more than what they thought he wanted to hear.

Her comments might have come across as rude or unwelcome, if he were a different sort of teacher, but he knows you can’t please everyone, and he knows, no matter how much you might like something, it’s always worse if you’re forced to do it. So he takes it in stride, even smiling when implies she doesn’t like it. ]] No offense taken. I realize it can seem trivial or disingenuous to keep up class after an apocalypse. [[ Of course, for him, the normalcy is his saving grace. If he didn’t have this, teaching and reading and access to the literature that’s been with him all his life, who knows how he would’ve fared? That sense of stability is what has kept him sane through all of this. It’s different for everyone, whatever drives them, but he only hopes they have something similar here. ]]

For what it’s worth, I’d rather it be optional too. I enjoy teaching students who want to be there, for whom the study is compelling enough. But I don’t get to make the call. [[ He realizes after he’s said it that he might have just insulted her, implying that he doesn’t enjoy teaching her because she’s not interested. That’s not at all what he means; he just knows from experience that students who choose to tend to make for a more interesting class.

Her comment about the NWRF is risky, and he bites his tongue as she says it. Even if he agrees, he keeps quiet; that’s asking for attention he certainly doesn’t want. But he nods at her next words, smiling again, brushing past the rest of it. ]] Well, I appreciate the assurance. I want to incorporate students’ interests as much as I can into the course. I don’t think I’d be able to swing something like that - [[ he adds, half-teasing ]] - but I’ll do my best to keep it interesting. Feel free to let me know if I slack on that. [[ He might regret the offer, but better he know upfront than teach droves of students who hate even the thought of another one of his lectures. ]]

[To his credit, he takes the news of her mission calmly. Perhaps it’s easier to swallow without the time travel element, moved from being upsettingly Out There into merely a quirk of her personality. Or... maybe he already knows about all that, and he’s handling her this softly on purpose. She has to imagine that a security officer has a list of Deluded citizens on hand, if not memorized. Because they’re all unpredictable security risks, obviously... A bitter taste clings to the back of her throat, but she quiets some of her suspicions, for the time being.]

[He jokes about his lesson plans, offers her an open door to walk through if he grows boring. She’s not bored, at the moment, and actually isn’t during most of his classes. Preoccupied, maybe, because she can feel her time slipping away like a nerve-wracking internal stop watch, her own personal James Bond climactic explosion somewhere vaguely on the horizon. It prompts her to cock her head at him as her tray is loaded with disturbingly pale vegetable matter.]

Do you approve of them? The NWRF? Or... however you wanna call it. [The question is bluntly posed, but either he answers it or he doesn’t---it’s merely so she can decide how much she’s willing to risk. And an unspoken second part---is he afraid of them?] 

You’re an Elite, and a guard, and you’re also Infected. [She ticks the facts off easily, things she picked up from his tattoo, from scraps of conversation and anecdotes barely noted but still absorbed.] Doesn’t seem like it’d be an easy position to be in right now. [She recalls her conversations with Mitch Douglas, especially that night at the Catch. Maybe Cameron will flinch, if this is an uncomfortable question for him, but the only way to know is to ask.]

[She used to be a lot more paranoid about that, in particular---speaking her mind, and the potential fallout from it. She’d been very focused on keeping herself out of any kind of situation that might be “dangerous,” concerned that it might impact her journey back home if she were damaged in any way. But after the parasite she feels more confident in her abilities to survive, to cling barnacle-like to some kind of life, no matter how painful it gets. That she might already be damaged and beyond being able to fulfill her mission has kept her staring at the ceiling all night on more than one occasion.]

[aurelia--ferris]

[aurelia--ferris]

oxford comma | teilo & elly

teiloembry​:

[He realizes, somewhat belatedly, that though he’s already grown a little fond of this expressive, pensive, library-habituating human, he’ll be walking away from this conversation knowing a lot less about her than she does about him—something that realistically isn’t terribly uncommon and which may or may not say something unflattering about him. But it’s not like he’s unaware of his own quirks, whether they’re perceived as negatives or not, which he knows not everyone does.

In any case, it’s not at all that he’s not interested; as a matter of fact, he’s quite intrigued by her, and eager to know more about her, (she reminds him a little of a mutual friend he and Sid had at Harvard, who’d gotten into the habit of popping by their apartment unannounced, which usually Teilo would detest, but somehow he’d never been able to hold it against her).  It’s just that in short conversations, that tends to be the way things go, especially if people let him get away with being as reflexively verbose as he’s generally inclined.

He smiles at her clarification about her full-name, nodding.] Aurelia Ferris. That’s not one I’ll be forgetting anytime soon. Maybe you should write a book—if purely for the fact that it already sounds like a name you’d read amongst the spines. [He indicates to the stacks around them with a subtle gesture of his hand. 

Her final comment pulls a laugh from him—one that may have, in other circumstances, been too loud for a library. Fortunately (or not), library etiquette seems to be a thing of the pre-apocalyptic past.] Well, I can’t say I’d mind. The downside of being a little on the side of pretentious—no, it’s okay, I know it’s true—is it doesn’t lend it self to the fondness of informal nicknames. But it’s Teilo. Teilo Aisling. And I’ll be sure make you my first stop the moment I hear even a whisper of another conspiracy. Lovely talking to you, Elly. 

Fade Out. 

[aurelia--ferris]

imperfect speakers | aurelia & jr

who-is-jr‌:

[[ JR is not a complete moron. He’s aware of the atmosphere the new arrivals bring with them, especially the woman at the head of the pack. He keeps his eyes down, focused on his food. It’s another show of muscle memory — keep himself small, keep himself unnoticed. It’s something he doesn’t listen too often enough.

He’s grateful that he chose to lean into, now. 

Elly had this refreshing self-awareness, a devil-may-care attitude that he thought about after their first meeting. He’d met her at first with a sour attitude, but quiet respect had built in between now and their last meeting.

Looking pointedly at his food and the opposite direction of the arrival is the only reason he catches a figure doubling over. JR turns fulling on his chair, facing a table a bit behind him. No-one else seems interested beyond looks of ‘Oh no’ and general, mild panic. 

Elly doubles over and that self-awareness slips out in a quiet commentary, as though she’s aware her own panic is something bizarre. Of course, he recognises this for what it is: some form of panic, something he feels far too often but rarely has to witness. He often worries he looks pathetic — instead, it’s just sad. 

He forgets his food and the mystery arrivals to walk over to Elly. A hand on his shoulder from Mitch helped JR, so he risks doing the same. A gentle hand on her shoulder, ready if she recoils. He crouches a bit, doesn’t want to be overbearing. ]]  Elly?

You okay? [[ Clearly, she isn’t, but a question she can answer is better than simply getting her attention. ]]

[Her head whips around at the touch to her shoulder. Elly doesn’t immediately recognize his face. But she sees him say her name, which is both surprising and unsettling. She’s not sure if she’s less inclined to smack his hand away because of it, or more. She struggles to hear more of his words beyond the noise in her head, but she can at least read his face, the concern painted there.] 

[She does... know him, though. Maybe in passing, or she’s just forgotten in the confusion of the moment. Hesitation turns to desperation. It’s not like she can wait around for someone she knows better to help her. Her hand closes on his arm.] I have to get out of here.

[Something’s going to happen, and it has every possible alarm in her system going off. She really hopes she’s speaking at a normal volume---although maybe it’d be better to yell? Give these people a heads up, at least...? Her stomach lurches uncomfortably at the thought. She hates being the one to make a call like that, the sudden awareness that she might be responsible for strangers. Will she regret staying quiet, only saving herself? There’s no time to dwell on it.] Get me out of here? [She gasps, wincing as the pain winds back around her temples and tightens agonizingly.] Please?

[aurelia--ferris]

oxford comma | teilo & elly

teiloembry​:

[She may think she sounds a little like a nutter, but in truth, she’s right. Besides, hadn’t they seen enough post-apocalyptic film, television and literature to know that radios were almost universally accepted as being the main form of communication when everything else false apart? Not that Teilo condones anyone basing their survival skills or knowledge solely on entertainment media, but by the same token, there’s likely plenty good reason it was used to frequently. And real, thorough research would also come to a similar conclusion: that radios were the best educated guess and what would remain intact and useful at the End of the “World as They Knew it’. 

So… why hadn’t they? Could it be true, that there was corruption in place long before anyone even realized there was power or authority to corrupt? Is there any truth in the wild conspiracy theories? Teilo is far from the type of person to pay much attention to wild theories of no sound evidence but… he has to admit, it is strange. 

He offers her a small grin, a slight lift of his brow.] Well, maybe you should look into it. Get an underground, black-market radio show going. You’d have at least one listener, [he intones playfully—though it’s not a dishonest sentiment, actually.

He nods at her question.] We’re no 21 and Counting or Cheaper by the Dozen, but big enough, I suppose. I have three siblings. Two older, one younger. My parents and my younger brother Brenin, are back in Connecticut, but Arlo went North to Canada to find my sister. I think they’re in a Colony now somewhere in Montreal… I don’t envy their winters, [he adds, a bit wry.

With that, he glances at his PDD, then pushes off where he’d been leaning on the shelves.] Goodness, I should probably be going, time’s gotten away from me—but forgive me, did I even get your name? [He tilts his head, smiling. They’d sort of gotten caught up in chatter so effortlessly, he’d not even noticed they’d not done proper introductions.] 

[It would be common courtesy to ask what his family does, or did before. But for her it's borderline irrelevant to inquire about anyone’s overseas family members in depth, even if they’re surprisingly tolerable for an Ivy League type. It’d probably be taking up space in her memory that should be saved for more valuable information, rather than personal anecdotes.] 

[So maybe it’s good luck actually, a happy coincidence, that he’ll be pulled away before she has a chance to stall out, conversationally.] 

[She blinks at the reminder of a formality they’d forgotten.] Elly. [Which is true, but less than useful if he ever tries to track her down via PDD---something that actually seems somewhat more likely than usual, with him.] Aurelia Ferris, if you ever need to look me up, to come add to the pile of conspiracy theories I’m collecting. [She amends.] I’m in Delma. But I spend most of my time hiding out in here, to be honest...

[She smiles blankly, having finished the explanation, with the distinct feeling like she’s forgotten something. And then realizes her manners have left the fucking building once again. It feels absurd and rusty as she blurts out, belatedly:] Oh, uh. You? Who---what’s your name? If I have to resort to calling you ‘Harvard’ I will, but I’ll hate myself a bit every time ‘cause it’d make me sound like a dudebro.

[aurelia--ferris]

anayadolmen‌:

For a second there, Anaya really considered she might pass out. Something about sitting down after so much exertion, and curling up on herself to reach her ankles. The movement must’ve made the blood rush somewhere far too quickly – she couldn’t even properly think where to or why –, and when she looked at her worn shoes, the dirty grounds beneath them swayed.

She blinked away the dizziness, and tried her best to hold very still and not make it worse for now. It wasn’t the most dignified of stances, all curled up and squeezing her ankle, but then again – there was hardly any dignity left in her to keep.

She had enough mind to still hear the woman by her side talking to her, so at least she wasn’t actually passing out. Oh, God, that’d be horrifying, actually, just going limp right by someone she’d never even met before. Slowly but surely, she sat back up, her breathing starting to lower to a more normal human-paced panting, and less… life threatening and dog-like. A little less embarrassing. Anaya will give her body points for trying.

"Yeah. New,” she panted, finally looking at the other to offer somewhat of a (pained, but still there) smile and seeing the towel being passed. She took the fabric with a grateful nod, quickly burying her face into it.

At least she was probably already red as a tomato from all the running, and it wouldn’t count if her cheeks threaten to blush from the general pain of social interaction.

The comment about visiting the bar made her laugh, the sound muffled against the towel as she wiped her forehead. “I think if I had a sip of alcohol right now, I’d black out on the spot,” she said, pulling the rag away to wipe at her neck and shoulders instead. She needed a shower, and a gallon of water, and maybe a nap. Maybe alcohol wasn’t that bad of an idea, actually. Just not when she was already dehydrated. With her current underweight status and all this sweating, she really might drop dead on the first drink, if she tried. “Blacking out right now doesn’t seem like so bad of an idea, though, huh?”

It was a poor effort at a joke, or rather just an impulse to offer an agreement to what had been said, because she didn’t want to come across as rude or uninterested. The woman by her side looked cool and collected, an air of confidence that made Anaya want to try to impress with her own – inexistent, but attempted – coolness. 

“Oh, tell me about it, these shorts are ridiculous,” Anaya laughed, still out of breath, still trying to gather herself. She pressed her own knees together, wishing her legs were covered. She wasn’t big on showing skin in general, let alone when she had to be exercising like this. “Couldn’t they just make some… baggy pants, army-style thing? That’d be a… much better option.”

Elly, that was the name to the face. It suited her, the Calyset thought. “I’m Anaya,” she offered back, resisting the urge to just say Ana, to stay within the nickname theme. She assumed Elly was a nickname, that is. Before she could dwell on that, the woman was making an offer that was far too tempting to refuse, even if Anaya’s eyes bulged out at first, uncertain.

Could they get in trouble for this? She wasn’t sure, but possibly. This sounded like they were a couple of teenagers making plans to ditch classes, and Anaya was most definitely not the type to have done that in her youth, but now? She didn’t have much left to lose. The proposition was, quite frankly, the most exciting thing to happen all week. “Yes,” she replied, after the second of consideration. “Absolutely, yes. Please.” Without any concrete plans but definitely a lot of enthusiasm, she rose from the bench. 

Did she sway a little, because standing up too fast always made her dizzy? Yes, she did, and she wasn’t proud of it, but she didn’t let it stop her. She held onto the wall as her vision cleared. Nothing she wasn’t used to. “There’s no way I can go work out any more today, I don’t care what my trainer says. I could use the break.”

Was she seriously going to delve into the implications of post-apocalyptic exercise wear, here, now, in depth? Yes, yes she was. By now, she was getting quite used to considering how even small actions could reflect deeper systemic problems that she would one day have to combat. It was turning into a hobby as much as a habit. "They probably could, but this way there's less of a training super soldiers sorta vibe, more harmless-but-embarrassing gym class one. I think it's an optics thing as much as that this used to be a school, and half of those were probably literal gym outfits for teenagers before now."

As Anaya stood, Elly offered her an arm, seeing her shake a little on her feet. A thought occurred to her, as she observed the sorry state of her new companion. And she remembered what she'd appreciated, when she first arrived and training was hell. "Have you been to the bath in the upper floor washroom? Basically a big hot tub? There's unfortunately a few sets of stairs between here and sweet steamy oblivion, and it's definitely not what anyone would call a spa, but I think blacking out soaking in the tub is a better way to go than down a bottle would be for you, right now." 

"Come on, I'll even carry you," She teased, cavalierly, then backtracked rapidly. "Kidding. I really won't be able to do that, even in my uh, peak physical condition now." Casting a sidelong look at the other woman's gaunt figure, she reconsidered. "Although, if there was someone I could lift, it'd probably be you." She looked as featherlight and fragile as a ghost.

"Anaya... I’ve heard your name, I think..." It took her a minute to recall where, but she had. Her memory of that day was confusing and shifted like looking through a kaleidoscope, but that conversation stood out with clarity. It wasn't often that Elly met someone who might have actual information for her---and now here she was, with another one. She gazed at the petite woman, drenched in sweat and looking about as intimidating as a half-drowned rat, with a new consideration. And a hell of a lot more appreciation. "Yeah, I have... Well, that explains it, I guess. I met your friend---the other astronaut."

Remembering what a mess she'd been that day, she softened slightly now, more vulnerable and at the same time feeling suddenly more intimately acquainted with this stranger than she'd been prepared for. She felt herself warm to this strange woman with her... frankly, borderline ludicrous backstory. Who the fuck was an actual astronaut? 

"He and I talked about the potential pros and cons of doing what's expected, too," she recalled absently. The parallel seemed like it should be funny and unusual, but given how open she was with her opinions on good days or bad ones (in equal measure) it really wasn't so strange. "Cool guy," she admitted, with a grin. "Didn't ask stupid questions or fuck around being dramatic, even though being trapped in fucking space for years after the world ends? I figure you two would have some extra license to be dramatic about it. And he didn't treat me like a moron, or a lunatic. Which is rare when you're marked Deluded."

She considered all the evidence she'd just summarized, and came to a conclusion about it. "I liked him." Unusual for her to realize, even more for her to admit it after a single conversation. "Meeting him helped me." Also true. She'd been injured and confused, even more so than usual. Constantin had given her hope and renewed her focus. As she realized this, it drove her to an unexpected and rather unprecedented feeling of certainty about her next words. "I was honestly happy just to have you as an accomplice in skipping out on training, but with how he talked about you... I'll help you out, how I can. As payback, or something."

gave it 110% | elly & anaya