Eluard Verlaine
✖ mutants
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Posts: 127
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Post by Eluard Verlaine on Sept 5, 2012 6:31:48 GMT -6
The veil lifted and Eluard could finally understand the details of Lee’s situation. Chills ran down his spine, purely because her words meant MV could have someone who worked for him in the hospital. It was also possible that he didn’t and someone could simply slip into Leann’s mother’s room and accomplish the deed just as well. It wasn’t like the woman was being guarded against such an occurrence. Something darkened Eluard’s expression. His eyes bore into Lee. “I agree. There is a chance.” While she had been passed out in the hospital he had taken a moment to read about her mother’s case. “Patients with severe neurological trauma but functional bodies could always “wake up” unexpectedly. It’s rare, but it happens.” He frowned. “The only problem is that what you get is either an unresponsive zombie or a slobbering animal. Is that how you want to see your mother?”
It was a harsh thing to say and it was very likely that she would never wake in the first place. A potential awakening was the domain of miracles but Eluard had seen stranger things happen, especially with mutants roaming around. For all he knew, there could be a mutant out there with restorative, regenerative powers, so all was not theoretically lost for Lee’s mother so in essence, he agreed.
Eluard sighed and slumped forward in his seat, the weariness of the past week slipping into his eyes even as he fought it. He kept his gaze on an unoccupied part of the couch. “I’ll have your mother placed under my personal guard the day we hit the arena. If anyone tries to disconnect her, they will be intercepted.” This wasn’t a foolproof plan, of course, but it was the best he could offer at the moment. “I can’t tell you when that day is, or why you could survive it even if you were inside. I also can’t tell you what to do, so if you insist on returning to the arena I won’t stop you.” Slowly, he gathered himself again and sat properly in his seat, eyes returning to Leann with a small plea. “But please keep this a secret. You won’t be able to win forever down there so technically, this is the only chance you have to spare both yourself and your mother. Miguel Vesquez is only toying with you and the moment you won’t be entertaining enough to continue playing with will be the moment it ends and you won’t be able to do anything about it.”
The information dealer looked away again and the passion of his conviction and frustration started receding under the surface again. “It doesn’t have to be the end for you or your mother, Leann. In time…” his eyelids lowered slightly and he was looking at something lost and distant. “…you may even learn to forgive yourself for the things you couldn't control.”
And if she did, she would have to tell him about it, because he still hadn't.
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Leann Lacey
✖ mutants
([url=http://tinyurl.com/7fm9rxh]Application[/url])
Posts: 87
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Post by Leann Lacey on Sept 5, 2012 17:30:36 GMT -6
The first response was full of truth. Of this, she could not deny. That didn't make it any easier to accept - not from another, in any case. She had rationalized his words on her own, hundreds if not thousands of times... but each time - from the nurses and doctors before, to Eluard now - they came from another, they reopened her fear like a blade to a severely scarred, poorly healing wound. She recoiled from his words and from him, managing in the act to push herself closer to the far edge of the couch. She fought the tears the subject brought from her, managing to keep them mostly under control, but the emotion seemed to charge her up. No electric green manifestations occurred, but the air around her began to feel very energized, and her long pink hair began to straighten. The strands that had, previously, been resting on the surfaces of the couch seemed repelled by the fabric and seemed to hover in place above them. It was an unsettling, almost mystical side-effect of her power and if, for some reason, Eluard would try to touch her, he'd receive a nasty static shock for his troubles.
His "body guard" reassurances did nothing to reduce her energy build up and, in fact, the lack of details - the mystery of the when and how to the assault - only made it worse. She didn't look at him until his plea for secrecy, and the glance she gave him was one of disbelief. He framed the plea with more "information she already knew" but could do nothing about. And then, after reminding her of the futility of her hope and the odd contrast of a promise to try and protect that hope, the White Serpent seemed to try and pour a little life back into that hope.
She did not know how to properly process it, and this inability was obvious on her face. She felt like an ignorant ping pong ball being smacked back and forth across the hateful table of fate by the spiked metal paddle of Vasquez, and the two-faced paddle of no-chance flame and hope-that-may-or-may-not-be-just-out-of-reach wielded by Eluard. While her opinion of her "owner" was set in stone, the conflict that had been created in her regarding Eluard showed in her slowly changing expression.
Many questions formed in her mind. What, exactly, was he? What was his purpose and how the hell did it relate to herself and/or her situation? Was he offering assistance because it was his nature, or was it because he had, somehow, imagined that she might be of some use in the still hidden-in-the-mists future? Was he even truly offering assistance at all? If the latter question could be answered in the affirmative, then why did he seem so poised to offer an argument against what she, seemingly, had to do to keep her hope alive? Was it because... she could not be of any use if she remained chained to that which was doomed to ultimate failure?
Lee could not, however, in her current state, even attempt to verbalize her questions. She couldn't decide if she really wanted to hear the answers to them and, as might have been expected, she was also fearful of the kind of reprisal they might prompt from the mysterious man that was acting as her host. Ironically, the thing that saved her from having to deal with the situation was the same thing that plunged her back into darkness.
It wasn't an alarm of any grandiose nature. Just a single, simple telling ring that awkwardly leapt from her backpack. She didn't have to open the pack and look at the phone to know what it meant. The alarm occurred... and she sat there in silence for a few moments. Then she abruptly reached out and grabbed her cap.
"I gotta go." Her words came out weak and uninspired, quite the opposite of what she'd thought she intended. Awkwardly, she pushed herself up and, almost falling again, she stumbled in the direction opposite the kitchen to what she thought was the exit door. Her re-donning of her police cap was rough, and she made sure to pull it down, tightly, over her eyes. Pink hair curled around her cheeks, framing and hiding her face, as she half-glanced back at Eluard over her shoulder.
"You... you can't promise anything, ya know. A-and, remember, yer the one that first said ya might... be just like him, anyway." The second sentence came from something remembered from their first conversation in the underground. "What I say... what I do, none of it really matters, huh? I'll... learn my lesson one day. One o' you'll see to that. Just... do whatever ya want. I'm just... a gray pawn, bein' pushed 'round by black and white. But don't worry about yer... secret. Like he'd believe me if I did say anything... He's... unassailable, remember? So he thinks. Ain't that... yer game, too?"
She reached out and took hold of the door knob, the static sparks offering a bright yellow-orange bit of fireworks to her planned departure. Her shoulders tensed at the shock, but it didn't stop her from opening the door. She lingered only long enough to hear whatever response he might have had - she'd already made up her mind not to respond at that time - and then she was gone.
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Eluard Verlaine
✖ mutants
([url=http://tinyurl.com/cab4jzn]Application[/url])
Posts: 127
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Post by Eluard Verlaine on Sept 5, 2012 18:36:32 GMT -6
He could see the questions on her face and the confusion he had produced. Eluard had meant to tell her the truth as he saw it, while expressing that he was by no means supposed to be considered an arbiter of supreme “right” and that he would not try to convince her out of her hope and support it, whatever that meant. The meaning hadn’t quite carried through as he had planned, but oddly, he didn’t open his mouth again to clarify. The information dealer was caught between thinking what he actually preferred of the options presented and considering if there was a point to choose a side at all.
The ringing phone in her backpack drew both of their attentions and Eluard wasn’t surprised to hear her excuse herself from his presence. “Very well,” he told her and watched her start off in the wrong direction. Before he could warn her of the error she silenced him with words of her own. Apparently, the way her recollections worked wasn’t exactly in his favor but Eluard did not protest her observation, simply becoming thoughtful instead. In the grand scheme of things, he did not differ vastly from Miguel Vasquez and he had accepted the truth of that matter the moment he decided to be in leadership through the shadows. Everyone who pretended to rule over others and decide on a direction for them would inevitably collect in the same place when their role in this world ended. It was something very dark and certain that he could feel in the deepest core of his being.
When Lee called herself a pawn, bumping from black to white as if the two were perfect mirrors of each other and treated her essentially the same, it felt like a verbal slap. The thoughtfulness in Eluard’s eyes was replaced by simple blankness for the duration of his minor shock. It lasted for perhaps a breath but would echo thereafter for quite some time. The “white” manipulator closed his eyes and rose from his seat but he had no words to grant her after that. When he opened his eyes again they were clouded with new thoughts and there was a certain straightness about his lips, but whatever tension was there relaxed quickly.
As she walked into a dark hallway that lead to the apartment’s two separate bedrooms he walked towards the true exit, the one straight in front of the couch, and opened it, proceeding next to keep the door for her. His eyes were stoic and listless and he seemed as interested in making eye contact as he was in talking again.
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Leann Lacey
✖ mutants
([url=http://tinyurl.com/7fm9rxh]Application[/url])
Posts: 87
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Post by Leann Lacey on Sept 6, 2012 18:32:24 GMT -6
((LoL. xD She gets all serious and then basically walks face first into a wall. Hahahaha. Even though the theme and topic is severe, that was a great thing to laugh at before zombie-passing out after work. I meant to free you from Eluard's interaction in the Lee plot until we finished in the other thread since you had so many other ones going, though. LoL.))
Instead of being able to "run like hell", as her mind and body seemed poised to do, Leann found herself forced to be a cautious explorer in the new found darkness of the hallway. As soon as the door shut behind her, and the relative darkness consumed her, she tensed, half-expecting some magical machination of a falling net, a trap door below her, or the springing of a new cage to keep her in place. In the lingering confusion from the interaction that had immediately preceded her "escape", she could not decide if it was fear that prompted this expectation of capture... or if she was actually hoping to be wrapped up in a new set of chains that would bring about "the end" by removing her from the entire equation.
When no traps presented themselves, she sighed and chose a direction to cautiously move in. Left took her into a bedroom. Right... ... ... took her into another bedroom. The only escape her chosen route offered was that of the window, and an unhappy, most likely fatal drop. It almost made her cry. How - she mentally fought with herself over the word choice, unhappy with what she settled on - unlucky could she be? Back in the hallway, Leann gingerly ran a hand over her face, and then turned her eyes towards the ceiling. Briefly, she wondered if there was something - some deity above - that had, for whatever reason, found it fit to curse her, placing her in these situations for his or her own amusement.
She shook the thought off and swallowed hard. As usual, her course of action was dictated by the only choice available. She would have to go back into the "living room." Could she be lucky enough that Eluard had gone back into the kitchen?
She pushed the door open a crack.
"D-damn it..."
Her whispered words coincided with what her eyes confirmed: he was still there and, from the looks of it, he was already stationed at the door she should have taken in the first place. She let the door shut, and stayed there, silent, in the dark for a good five minutes.
Then she pushed the door open again. The situation had not changed. In what was probably soon to be a recurring theme, Lee would have to "bite the bullet" and "face the music." She could only tarry so long without inspiring some form of punishment from the underground and, she reckoned, the longer she hid in his hallway, the more agitated her "host" would become - especially given her "parting" words.
With a sigh, she stepped back out into view, letting the door shut behind her. She pressed back against it, watching Eluard and the exit from beneath her police cap. Her expression was tense, though she was not exhibiting any signs of electrical misconduct. With, honestly, no idea on what she should do next, she did the only thing that occurred to her: nothing. She just stood there, as if waiting to be directed.
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Eluard Verlaine
✖ mutants
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Posts: 127
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Post by Eluard Verlaine on Sept 6, 2012 20:53:20 GMT -6
Time passed and Lee was simply not coming back from the wrong direction she had taken. The door she had shut behind her was clearly opening and shutting as if she was either trying to give the poorest haunting effect in the world or was riddled with hesitation in returning to the living room. The whole situation was so ridiculous Eluard half-facepalmed, covering his eyes with one hand. He was upset with her for treating him like he didn’t give a damn but it was hard to remain darkly and quietly disappointed when she was behaving like such a child.
It was then that it dawned on him that she was indeed just a girl, not out of highschool yet. So when the door shut and Lee remained within the part of his apartment that was obscured from direct view he waited patiently at first and as the minutes dragged on with increasing irritation for her to finally come back. He kept the door open for so long that his neighbor passed by to take out the garbage, saluted him by neighborly reflex although the two had never spoken past a greeting ever, and continued down the hallways to dispose of his burden.
A pair of minutes later, he was coming back from the garbage tract and Eluard was still there, holing the door open for some mysterious no one. Bill the neighbor gave him an awkward nod and confused smile, the creepiness of it all far too obvious in his honest eyes and he hastened his step as he rushed back to his apartment and shut the door, promptly locking it. There was a pause and a blocker was applied as well, followed by more turning locks. Eluard sighed.
Eventually Lee came out and after she paused, her back pressed against the interior door she seemed to have developed special affection for, Eluard made a show of slamming the door he had been holding shut and striding away and into the kitchen. It was all very ridiculous, he reflected after doing it, but everything these days was. He hadn’t allowed himself to be quite so childish in his display in more time than he could remember, but she had made it quite clear how much of a pawn she thought she was and he would rather have her linger awkwardly in his apartment forever before verbally giving her one more instruction.
As such, he was in the kitchen, pulling a pot of boiling rice off the stove and getting ready to transfer it into a metal bowl where it could be seasoned and flavored and turned into riceballs.
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Leann Lacey
✖ mutants
([url=http://tinyurl.com/7fm9rxh]Application[/url])
Posts: 87
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Post by Leann Lacey on Sept 7, 2012 12:39:49 GMT -6
Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
Time was a-wastin'. The most valuable of ethereal resources was being filed away by the great emery board of awkward, and surprised, hesitation. Lee had not seen the strange "neighborly" exchange that she had, inadvertently, caused by her lingering in Eluard's hallway, so when she finally emerged and glued herself to the poorly chosen door, she could not fully comprehend her "host's" actions. The slamming of the "true" exit door was alarming and was interpreted by the pink-haired girl to be an action birthed from anger that she must have been responsible for. As such, in the split-second following the door's slamming, Lee tensed up, her expectations - that Eluard's aggravated stride would take him directly to her and that some form of physical "discipline" would follow - was quite obvious on her form and she bowed her head.
When the anticipated assault did not come and Eluard disappeared back into the kitchen, she was forced to reassess. It was difficult to understand, thanks to the last few months, how she had been spared some form of "physical re-education" (as the master of the underground had a habit of calling it.) Her mind, finally mostly free of the effects of the sedative, began mulling over the possible meanings of how the situation had changed while her body, conditioned as it was and because she'd already made up her mind to stay in place, remained glued to the interior door. If not a physical lesson... was the slamming of the door and the storming out of the room meant for mental and/or emotional "instruction"? Actions spoke louder than words, didn't they? And if that was the case, what was being said by Eluard's actions?
The first thing that came to mind was that the whole affair had been a mocking demonstration. A "See? Look how stupid you are. The exit was right here, but you couldn't be bothered to act civil and just ask about it. So, you know what? *SLAM!* Now you're bloody stuck." kind of sentiment. She had not, however, directly seen Eluard lock the door, so while she did not completely discard the notion that the action was a sort of "vengeance with a purpose", she did place it on her mental back burner.
What else could it be? Was this a demonstration of the difference between the absolutely cold "White Serpent" and the actual person that was Eluard? A kind of frustrated throwing up of the hands because... ... because...? She faltered for a moment. How could she possibly be responsible for taking this man, this... monarch so far off his game? It didn't make sense to her. Certainly, she knew she had power - that was part of her problem - but it was of the physically electric variety, not the strength of personality or importance of self to unnerve him, right? The only thing, she figured, that could have caused it was because she didn't just float along on the river of words and intentions that must have been his plan. But that seemed... far too superficial. She completely discarded this option.
A third thought entered her mind in the form of a memory from her elementary school days. She'd been assigned a papier-mâché project for science class, where she had been chosen to be responsible for crafting the planet Saturn for the class' Solar System mobile. It was a daunting task for a 6-year old with little to no artistic skill, but no amount of begging or crying could persuade the teacher to allow her exemption from the task. It was not simply "art failure" that had put her off from the assignment; quite honestly, she thought the feeling and scent of the materials needed to craft the great ringed planet were "icky" and she wanted nothing to do with it. Still, it was something that had to be done and her mother had promised assistance. As the project began in the quaint living room of their home, it was initially an "equal parts" type of affair, but Lee's revulsion at the flour-based glue got the better of her and, in childish perfection, she gradually allowed more and more of the responsibility of completing the project to fall on her mother. So easily, it seemed, that she was distracted by the television, or something that she had seen move outside of the living room window. Despite being asked to "stay on task so they could finish", Lee's excuse-finding selfishness continued on unabated, until her mother decided that, in order to spark her daughter's attention, she would just have to stop helping and leave the rest of the assignment to Leann. At first, Lee didn't believe her; she had no appreciation for the idea of abandonment and, since she was generally a good kid, she had not anticipated that any threat of discipline would actually be followed-through. That is, until her mother abruptly got up... and disappeared into the kitchen, claiming that "she'd just have to do it herself" because "dinner wouldn't cook itself." In the end, of course, the pink-haired girl had managed to beg "Mama's help" back onto the project, and this time stayed on task until it was finished.
Could Eluard's actions have been similar to that? She wasn't sure. They had no "parental" or family connection, and they hadn't known each other long enough for anything in the realm of a "mentorship" to have been created. It seemed quite a stretch to think that the slamming of the door and his return to the kitchen could have so closely mimicked the lesson her mother had given her so long ago. Besides, she wasn't "taking advantage" of him in any way, was she? He'd brought her here on his own, and she still couldn't quite grasp what his ultimate purpose was. Still, she couldn't discard it, and so... she was left with conflicting interpretations of his actions.
She sighed.
And lingered.
...And lingered further still. Some amount of clatter, food preparation no doubt, was coming from the kitchen. Another five minutes had passed.
Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
Time was still a-wastin'. She had to go, but sentimentality from her memory seemed to have planted a seed in her that sprouted the desire to remain. Still, she could not. It would be far more painful in the end if she tarried any longer.
She took a hesitant step forward, her eyes on the true exit. She was being excruciatingly careful; her steps exceptionally slow and on her tip-toes. One step at the time, one step every 30 seconds, trying her best to make absolutely no noise at all, lest she incite the potential for some abstract form of actual wrath from her host.
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Eluard Verlaine
✖ mutants
([url=http://tinyurl.com/cab4jzn]Application[/url])
Posts: 127
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Post by Eluard Verlaine on Sept 7, 2012 17:40:32 GMT -6
While Lee overanalyzed the situation, Eluard prepared dinner. It did unnerve him a little that she thoroughly refused to leave his apartment (for no sounds came from the front door’s opening or shutting) but for the moment, he was determined to leave her to her business, even if it ended in him getting robbed or whatever else applied to having an emotionally unstable mutant teenager who thought him akin to the devil under his roof. That didn’t sound too good, but she wasn’t the only one who was tired and carrying her entire world on her back only. She didn’t have the responsibility of a four year old daughter, either. But then again, she didn’t have his years and experience and he shouldn’t have treated her with a door slam.
Eluard sighed, finally having drained the water out of the hot rice. He slipped on the recently discarded apron and washed his hands in the near-by sink with ice cold water then returned to the working area. Taking a previously prepared bowl of cooked peas, minced green onion and sweet corn, he dumped it into the waiting rice and then proceeded to mix the whole thing with his hands. When everything was properly mixed, he started shaping the now mostly golden rice into several balls. This whole process lasted about five minutes, Eluard working with the speed of someone who had cooked a lot in his life.
The six medium sized riceballs were placed on a platter and ornamented with a fence of lettuce and sliced cucumber. Then Eluard paused and frowned. He stood like that for ten seconds before going to wash in the sink and dry his hands on a waiting cloth. With new speed, he marched to the cabinet near the large fridge of the room and pulled out a box-like plastic container akin to a bento. Bringing it to the rice-in-plate, he scooped up three of the golden balls and placed them inside with a few cucumber slices and some lettuce. On the other end of the box he placed a few napkins. A lid was placed over and pressed shut.
With apron forgotten on – a moderately long navy blue thing with a pattern of tiny grinning Elmos on – Eluard waltzed back out of the kitchen and wasn’t surprised to find Lee in a position usually reserved to cartoon mice walking carefully by a cat, perhaps in slow motion. He walked to her and extended the box for her to take. “Here. You haven’t eaten all day and you’re in a rush.” The blue eyed man was still avoiding her eyes. He noted that this was the second time he was offering food to her and there was something about the situation each time that made him have a sensation he only experienced around Jenny surface.
Then he sighed and looked at her properly, the slight tension caused by unvoiced persistent irritation dropping from his shoulders. “Sorry about earlier. It’s been a long day and I’m tired.”
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Leann Lacey
✖ mutants
([url=http://tinyurl.com/7fm9rxh]Application[/url])
Posts: 87
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Post by Leann Lacey on Sept 10, 2012 21:22:12 GMT -6
Surprise and alarm. Those were the first things present and obvious in her form at Eluard's unexpected - but should have been expected - return to the living room and return to her immediate proximity. The surprise, of course, was due to the reappearance, whatever the cause. The alarm was because Lee had been quite focused on being as silent and "undiscoverable" as possible, and she had been thoroughly thwarted. Failure was becoming the norm for her, however, so the impact of that was dulled. But the presentation of a lunchbox, of sorts, caused the sheer surprise in her face to manifest... only to be instantly distracted by the sheer ridiculousness of Eluard's apron.
Truly... a cascade of Elmos? She nearly choked in her immediate humor-tinged surprise, trying - and mostly succeeding to suppress the laugh pulled from her - she seemed to stumble. She recovered, though, mostly out of fear of the potential reprisal that could come from such poor manners... and that recovery brought her back to Eluard, himself, and... the food. It was not so much offered as it was forced, but it had a mollifying impact on her. The combination of silly kiddy apron and "lunchbox" - as if she were being sent off to elementary school - effectively... crushed her. With the childhood memory of "reasoning" for his previous actions lingering, the pink-haired girl found herself drowning in the murky pool of nostalgia and regret.
Lee was hung up in the emotion and it showed, her mouth curling down into a pulsating frown; the muscles of her face compelled to react by emotions not entirely related to the scene that had come to fruition in this place. Her eyes filled with tears and she shook her head once, as if to try to refuse that pushed onto her, but she couldn't. To refuse would be to sever, to cut ties she hadn't even fully manifested yet and, fully, relinquish herself to the frozen abyss of loneliness in the underground. Even if she thought it proper, she did not want that; and even if she could not grasp what Eluard wanted or actually offered in whole, she could not refuse this.
There was an awkward pause as she gripped the lunchbox, her worried gaze moving from the container to the man and back again. Then her eyes shut tight; her jaw clenched. Another beat passed. She shook her head again, a few times, pink hair flipping about madly in her moment of indecision, and then, in the moment of decision towards the fate she could not escape.
"You shouldn't~!" It was all she could initially manage. Then, abruptly, she rushed forward, bull rushing passed Eluard. "I'm... Th-thank you! ...I'm sorry!"
And through the door she went, leaving a cacophony of door crashing, then possible door-slamming, plus inconsolable teenage girl crying, to further disrupt the neighbors.
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Eluard Verlaine
✖ mutants
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Posts: 127
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Post by Eluard Verlaine on Sept 14, 2012 22:19:10 GMT -6
Eluard wasn’t blind to the slow buildup of emotion that threatened to burst out of Leann. He was even a bit scared for it. Last time she had been very unstable, her powers had almost electrocuted him and everyone else within range. In retrospect, it had been a miracle, really, that he had managed to sedate her before she caved and blew up the whole place. Regardless of his anxiety, he didn’t once attempt to move away or retract the offering. It was good that he didn’t, too, because she took it in the end.
She passed him in a rush after muttering everything that could pass through her obvious confusion. Eluard straightened and looked after her, his arms dropping limply to his sides and entire posture relaxing. He hadn’t known how tense he’d been. There was no room to go after her, no reason even if he’d wanted to. She wasn’t his pawn, not like she was for MV. The side of him that needed her for his own ambitions was quiet, silenced in the prison of his mind. If he was going to achieve anything, it would be with willing support.
Without another thought about it, Eluard closed the door to his apartment and leant against the door, exhausted.
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