2010-03-30: False Recollections



Date: March 30, 2010


Two people who vaguely know the other's face meet. And a mother is very protective of her daughter!

"False Recollections"

Sarissa and Elisabetha's Home

Of all the times to fail at teleporting. Peter doesn't risk staying near the house when he sees the van, a few items stuffed into a bag to bring back to his niece, a brief note left in a drawer of her mother's dresser (the shirts, not anything he shouldn't be sticking notes in), but he can't risk capture. Not now. Not with everything going on.

And certainly not with a couple billion dollars from a terrorist with his name on the invoice.

Wrapped in invisibility, he moves along the houses, trying to find a place to hide it out— to wait. One of the homes on the block looks empty from one side, a for sale sign still in front of it. Someone even left a window open, as if planning to let the house air out. The van inches closer, the threat of infrared goggles too high to risk staying in the open, he jumps up onto the open window and hops down, noisily, unable to resist the urge to shut his eyes and wait for them to move on.

Only the house he chose to jump into isn't as empty as he thought…

She has been shuttled around various European countries for about two months now, after being isolated in Germany for months before that. There had been others, of course. There were other fugitives from the United States government hiding in Germany, but many had departed to find other places to hide, or gradually made their way back to their home country to fight back on their terms.

Elisabetha had been lonely, lost, and confused. But then a message came via a most peculiar messenger. The man had not offered his name, but he had given Elisabetha a message. Images in her head of where she was to meet her mother at an airport. And the message was from her Teacher! Elated she followed the instructions exactly and met with Sarissa after years of being apart. Things had changed between them, certainly. But even now, two months later and back in the U.S., there was tension between them. Sarissa was more open to Elisabetha now, but they still weren't acting like a mother and daughter should. More like… Strangers forced together by circumstance.

Elisabetha is still relishing the novelty of showers after months on the run, and thus she has just finished taking one at their new house. The sign has not been removed from the lawn but the water, heating, and electric bills have all been paid and set up for the houses new owner — if there's one thing Sarissa is good at it, it is covering her bases. Drying her hair and wrapped in a towel, Elisabetha walks in front of the bathroom mirror and glances idly at her right shoulder. There's metal in it. Right at where the bicep begins, there is a metal plug of sorts, with various protruding bits of machinery. It's been there for more than a year, but it's still an odd sight after spending most of her life with just a healed-over stump there.

She heads out of the bathroom and into what will be her bedroom — as soon as the movers arrive. The house is very similar to the Bennet household in arrangement of floors and such, but it is not identical. For one, there's very little furniture. Second, though there are thousands of dollars worth of new clothes hanging in the closet, courtesy of mommy dearest, there's no food in the kitchen. Talk about priorities.

Elisabetha notices the open window, but not the thump, due to having been behind a closed door with the fan on a few moments ago. "…<Mother, did you wish to air out the house?>" she calls out in Italian. She turns away as she moves closer to the window, to better hear any response, but soon turns her crimson gaze on the window again. Hm. Well, she can at least put down the window shades while she changes.

Of all the bedrooms in all the world, Peter had to drop into this one.

The mother of the one-armed woman is standing in the living room, looking out one of the sets of windows at the street. She is presently annoyed. The movers were supposed to have arrived over 10 minutes ago. How dare they keep her waiting! And when she had been assured of the quality of their service too! Drumming her fingers on the windowsill with one hand as the other rests on her hip, she cuts an imposing figure somehow. There's no one in the living room to see her, of course. But if there had been, they would be quite intimidated! "<Lazy Americans…>" she mutters. She may be annoyed but she's not properly angry. So much of her emotions are diminished when left to their own devices. She peers out at a black van that is moving slowly down the street and for a moment there is a hint of anxiety in both her features and her mind. She thought they'd finally stopped following her. Was this more of them? They certainly have the same feeling about them: watchful, suspicious, and predatory. Yet they do not appear to be focusing on her. No sign of sudden recognition, or of preparedeness for action. Just general caution.

Then there is a thump from somewhere behind her. She turns immediately, smoothly, pivoting on her heel and starting to stalk off to find the source of the disturbance. Sounded like it came from the back of the house on the first floor… Was that her daughter making all that racket, or was it something more dire? Sarissa focuses momentarily and determines that Elisabetha is nearby, and heading in that direction. Then she hears her call out about airing out the house. "<Yes. Did you just drop something? Close a door too hard?>" For once she is not looking for something to complain about Elisabetha doing. Instead she is hoping it is a matter of clumsiness and not some… Some… Marauder or something come to cause problems!

Then she is close enough to feel it. Stress, fear, anxiety — and none of them are coming from Elisabetha. "<Elisabetha! Come here at once!>" she orders. She fails to keep some slight hint of panic out of her voice. Maybe it's her fear that does this. Or maybe it's the fear of the intruder she knows is in the house somewhere. She can't tell, and doesn't care. She hurries towards the bedroom, prepared to give this person something to >really< be afraid of, if she has to.

The anxiety is spiking at the sound of voices, ones he's not entirely sure he understands. Peter looks up at the woman in a towel, and quickly gets up off the floor and diverts his eyes. This is a bedroom. And a young woman is wearing only a towel, and will inevitably want to get dressed— and he's suddenly not just a fugitive on the run, but a peeping tom.

Or that's how he feels as he starts to move away from the window a little too quickly to be careful, brushing the arm that remains with the cold sleeve of his coat as he hurries for the door— that another person is speaking through.

Of all the times not to be able to teleport.

And he's starting to wish he would have paid more attention to Italian lessons. Then again, he's surprised he recognizes it as Italian.

Elisabetha. He turns around to glance back at the girl in the room, something about the red eyes tugging on a memory which isn't entirely his own— but he doesn't understand Italian enough to know she's being told to get out of the room. Which means she may run into him, standing at the doorway as he is.

Elisabetha starts to turn as she hears her mother calling to her. Her left arm reaches for the cord that will lower the shades, but she pauses at the questions being asked. "…<No, mother. I have not dropped anything. The door to the bathroom is still open.>" Biting her lower lip nervously and dropping her arm down to hold up her slipping towel, she worries that she has upset Sarissa somehow. She has mostly managed to avoid doing so since their reunion, but it's so hard to tell what will set her mother off. Then something brushes her arm. Something cold.

She blinks and looks down, but doesn't see anything. There's air currents though. And… Maybe it was a rain drop that came through the window, blown on the wind? The power of the human mind to explain away things it doesn't understand is truly amazing. Elisabetha glances out the window at the sky, but doesn't see any dark clouds. Maybe a sprinkler then? Regardless she suddenly doesn't feel she has privacy in this room for some reason. Better to get her clothes from the closet and get dressed in the bathroom. She begins to do so.

Then she hears her mother demanding she come to her at ONCE! Without thinking, and possibly due to the voice tone used, she turns swiftly and hurries towards the bedroom door — and most likely right into Peter. She's a slender woman, without much weight to her, so it is unlikely she will knock Peter down. But if such collision occurs, Elisabetha herself is likely to at least stumble, if not fall as well, having to whip out her arm to try to catch herself somehow.

Sarissa's swift approach turns into a run as she heads past the stairs and towards the bedless bedroom. That anxiety spike tells her all she thinks she needs to know, and urges her to action. No more words are wasted. She simply runs full-tilt up to the doorway and skids to a stop there, seeing Elisabetha starting to fall. Her heart is beating rapidly from a combination of emotions, but she has enough sense left to her to demand, "<What happened? Is anyone in there with you?>" He — and she is now fairly certain it's a he based on certain hints of embarassment — should be right in front of her, from what she can tell. But there's no one there but Elisabetha.

What if it's not a normal miscreant? What if it's… One of >them<? Sarissa backs up a couple feet, looking intensely at the air in front of her, not down at Elisabetha as she likely fails to retain her modesty. "Show yourself!" she orders in English. If she does not receive an immediate response she tries a couple other languages before becoming frustrated and switching back to English.

"Ow!" comes a harsh sound from the solid form that Elisabetha ran right into. Peter stumbles against the door fram, twisting to keep from running into the woman coming in through the door, and landing with a thud against the wall. Luckily there's little in the way of furnature, or this whole mess could have broken something…

Even then, the cloak of invisibility starts to fade, revealing a rather winded looking young man in dark clothes. Hair dark, a little stubble on his face, he looks like he's seen better days. "Sorry, I was just looking for somewhere to hide. I thought the house was empty, maybe doing a floor show or something." And he's avoiding looking at Elisabetha, in case the towel slipped.

The towel did indeed slip. Thus as Elisabetha tries to get up off the floor, she is a bit confused by Sarissa's yell. 'Show myself?' she thinks in confusion. She looks down at her chest. Then her brain registers the 'ow' and the fact she hit something solid. When Peter manifests suddenly, her wine-red eyes widen. "Oh!" she lets out and then scrambles to get to her feet and replace her towel at the same time. She's stronger than she used to be, but it's still difficult getting up off the ground without the use of her hand.

Once her modesty is recovered, she doesn't back away from Peter, but instead just tries to edge around to get a better look at him. "…." She recognizes the voice. She thinks she recognizes the face, but it's different from what she saw before — if she has even seen it. Then it all comes rushing back. "Pe—Petrelli! You're the bad man!" She seems very distressed by this realization and NOW she backs away quickly, leaving Peter against the wall to deal with Sarissa, while Elisabetha just tries to put some space between herself and this person.

Does she really know the Peter from the Dark Future somehow!? Nope. She's associating him with someone else who wore Peter's face briefly. But that wouldn't evident just from this brief exchange.

Sarissa arches an eyebrow at Peter when he appears and gives his story. But when Elisabetha recognizes him and declares he's a 'bad man', Sarissa's brown eyes go narrow and intense like she's about to destroy this intruder with >laser eye beams< or something. "Yes. He is a very bad man. A pervert and a trespasser, using his mutation to do as he pleases. Well, he has been caught this time. Elisabetha, get dressed. Mister 'Petrelli', was it? I recommend moving away from my daughter's bedroom. I would call the police but I doubt they would be able to hold onto an invisible man for long, and our telephones have not yet been installed."

She frowns and backs up a bit so that Peter can pass her by. "I want to hear exactly how my daughter knows you… And why you're hiding—" then she cuts herself off to look quickly over her shoulder. The unmarked van is no longer visible from where she is standing. Her head turns slowly back to Peter. "They're after >you<, are they not?"

For someone caught possibly peeping, the expression of shame doesn't quite match the feeling of disgust as Peter gets to his feet. Also confusion, on top of everything else. He can't help but steal a quick glance at Elisabetha's face, to try and figure out where he might know her— those red eyes do tug on a memory. One not even his own. But looking for long will probably get him shot with >laser beams< so he vacates the room and gets into the hallway, like he'd been trying, before he can turn and face the woman more dressed. The mother.

"I wasn't trying to peep, I just went into the bedroom cause the window was open and I needed to hide, they might have special equipment that can see heat signatures— I just needed a place to hide until I could calm down." Get his emotions in the right place to activate teleportation. Now it's probably going to take even longer.

"I don't know how she knows me, or why she— " he glances back at the door, before looking away again. "She might have met someone who looks like me, before." Someone from the future. Someone with a scar across his face.

That's when it starts coming back, where he recognizes her from. Borrowed memories of a man left behind as a warning. This is what could be. It would be up to him to stop it. There's a strong emotionship, surprise, realization, and then something even stronger, deeper, and heavily seated. Determination.

Elisabetha is pretty scared herself. Not so much that there's that horrible man here in her mother's new house, but that she is being told to do something as mundane as getting dressed when the man could be changing shape and hurting Sarissa, just out of sight. But she does as she's told regardless, changing as quickly as she can into some basic clothing rather than the fully-coordinated outfits she has hanging in alphabetized sequence in her closet. Seriously, each outfit has a letter on it, via sticky-note.

Anyway, she clumsily hops into a pair of jeans and then slips on a t-shirt while listening carefully to the conversation going on in the hall. "…Someone who looks like you?" she wonders aloud. "You mean that man who tricked the Muse… Who hurt all those other people with gifts by abusing his own… He wasn't you?" She takes the towel from her head and shakes out her damp blonde hair. She is still fairly innocent and naive, and is already starting to accept Peter's explanation without any physical evidence to the contrary. When she comes into the doorway she's presentable. Still doesn't have her prosthetic arm slotted in, but she doesn't need it right now.

"Then who are you? If you're not the man that my Teacher worked for at Pinehearst, then how did the Muse know you?" she frowns contemplatively as she leans her elbow on the door frame and peers at Peter, unaware of his sudden recollections of a life he never lived.

Sarissa can feel Elisabetha's fear, but there's other emotions warring for control within her. There's a number of emotions felt from Peter himself. "I see," is all she offers to the explanation. It's hard to tell exactly how much she is buying it. She is definitely schooled in keeping her expression under control. But she does take note of the sudden rush of emotions, especially that last one. "…." She misinterprets it too.

"…You are determined to make sure we do not alert your pursuers, hm? You plan to 'silence' us? There is no need for that. They have been stalking me as well, and have already kidnapped my daughter once before. I have no interest in talking to these vigilantes or whoever they are. If you wish to go, you may go." She waves dismissively.

Perhaps she hopes that Peter will just leave and she won't be forced to try to intimidate him into doing so. He is doubtless more physically powerful than Sarissa, and definitely more than Elisabetha.

"What?" Peter speaks up, that confused emotion washing over him again, as he steps back. "No, I wouldn't— I'm not going to do anything to silence you. If you know who they are, then you probably wouldn't want to hand me over to them anyway." And in cases like this, he prefers to handle things with less violence and more talking! If violence was the accusation she was making, because it certainly sounded like it.

"That— the Muse is Kory," he finally says, voice trailing a bit as he tries to piece together what she means, but— he knows. Kory'd told him that his father was killed, but she'd left out that he'd tried to approach her using his face. "That was my father," he says, keeping a small amount of distance between all of them. The myriad of emotions that come with mention of his father are almost too complex to narrow down. Maybe he's not even sure how he feels about the man. "He was a bad man. I'm sorry you met him." And sorry she associated him with, well him. Teacher? Worked for Pinehearst?

"I can leave, though. As soon as I'm sure they're past. I don't want to get taken by them." For everyone's sake. "I don't think either of you want to be taken by them either— you choose a bad neighborhood to move to if you wanted to stay in hiding. They'll probably be watching one of your neighbor's houses often."

Elisabetha lowers her arm to her side slowly as her concerned expression turns to one of embarassment and sadness. "…Oh. I'm sorry." She is silent for a few seconds, piecing together this new information. "Um, maybe he was not entirely bad. Maybe he was… Just hurting inside, and he didn't know how to deal with it. That happens a lot. I can feel when people are in pain and… I try to fix it, but it doesn't always work. I try to understand their suffering… I don't think I understood Mister Petrelli's suffering. I could feel what he caused in others, but nothing from him. I—" she stops, perhaps realizing this entire subject is sensitive territory to be stomping around in with someone you just met.

"…Yes, Kory Alexander. She visited me in my dreams. She and Mnemosyne, and Mister Lee, and all the others have helped me a lot with becoming a new person." But am I a better person? a dark voice whispers in Elisabetha's head. And it's not Thanatos this time. Because Thanatos is now the same as her normal self. She has had to fight against the feelings of aggression, of inherent superiority, of the need to end suffering permanently, for two months. It hasn't become any easier.

Shaking her head she steps forward hesitantly to try to put her hand on Peter's shoulder, if he'll let her. It's meant to be a comforting gesture. "You don't have to go. Wait until it's safe. If you're friends with Kory, then you're a good person. Even… Even the one that my Teacher says is evil… Even Sylar tried to help Kory. Even after he did what he did—" Again with the awkward subject matter. She cuts herself off. "…My name is Elisabetha. This is my mother, Sarissa. I don't remember what Kory called you."

Sarissa eyes Peter, but doesn't press the subject, feeling all those various emotions welling up and swirling together. If not for her experience she might have become dizzy and passed out. Perhaps she has misread him. "Very well." Does she understand what this is all about? Pinehearst? Something to do with Novak? Someone named Kory? And now this man's father? Not a chance. She's smart, but she's neither a genius nor omniscient. She just accepts for the moment what Elisabetha is saying.

"You may stay until you have a clear path to depart." She frowns a bit at the mention of their neighbors. Red-lipsticked lips are briefly wetted with her tongue, as her mouth goes dry. "So someone in this neighborhood is also a mutant? A… 'Gifted person'? Coincidences are amazing things…" She sighs. "As long as you don't tell me it's the woman with the dog. Sasha? Something like that. I thought these mercenary fools were floating around to obtain a ransom either from me or from my husband. But it looks like they're after something bigger."

"No, he was bad," Peter says, keeping his eyes downcast for the moment as he refuses to let that one slide. His father tried to kill him, milked his niece for her blood in a basement, and did so much worse that he can't even begin to forgive him. Or what he did to the world. What he almost did to the world. "But Kory's good. She is probably one of the best people I know." Certainly brought out the best in him, even when he was at his worst. Helped bring out the best in Sylar, as well. The bad man. He hopes Kory is all right…

"My name's Peter," he responds, looking from one woman to the next. As he looks at Elisabetha that determination comes back, if ever briefly. Not quite as strong. "There's a lot of people with dogs… but it might be that neighbor. The girl they were after doesn't live there right now, she's somewhere safe. But they seem to be watching the house in case she comes back." Or maybe they were watching for him— he doesn't want to stick around to find out.

"What they're doing is a lot bigger than ransoming people. They're trying to turn us into weapons, though I don't think half the people who work for them even realize that."

Elisabetha nods awkwardly, deciding to just agree. Who would know whether someone was bad better than one's own son, after all? The blonde young woman moves her hand off of Peter's shoulder, not wanting to intrude. She can feel there is a lot of pain when Peter talks and thinks about his father. She wants to fix it, but she has learned that strangers do not often willingly accept help from other strangers when the matter is personal.

"It is nice to meet you, Peter." She can smile, at least. A smile is a good first step towards healing the pain. "The girl who lives there…" she says quietly, trying to remember who it might have been. There were others on the train. She thought she met them all. But then there were the rescuers, and they had to go rescue yet more people with gifts. "…I'm not remembering any other girls my age. Unless it was the little girl who can turn into water. Jamie. She was a lot younger, but she might be the one."

She shakes her head. "Well, I— " then the bit about turning them into weapons. "— Um. I knew they were trying to capture us… And… I guess I should have told you sooner, mother, but it's the United States government that's doing this. Or that's what I was told, at least. I don't know if it's all of them, or just some. The part about turning is into weapons is new to me." She shakes her head. She knows what her ability can do. If it could be put into a gun, or duplicated, or something… Well, a lot of people could get hurt. Or die.

Sarissa nods. "A pleasure to meet you, Peter. The dog in question is some kind of pomeranian or some such. Fluffy, yappity dog. Named after something from that Harry Potter series, I think." She shrugs. Then she listens to what Peter and Elisabetha have to say. Well. Bomb-shell dropped. "…The government of the country we are presently in? I certainly wish I had known this while we were still safe in anywhere that's not here." The reprimanding tone in her voice towards Elisabetha is definitely there. "Why would you not tell me this? And now we are to be weapons for these Americans?" She slips into Italian without even thinking about it. "<You were very foolish to keep this from me! They have no authority at home! But you were insistent that Novak would want us to be nearby!>"

She keeps berating Elisabetha for awhile, before composing herself and turning back to Peter. "Weapons, hm? Well there is a big difference between a gun and a person. The first can only kill due to actions taken by people. The second can turn on those who would control us. If Novak Garbaldi knows what is going on, then we will need to contact him somehow. We were lucky to make it into the country and to our present location without being spotted. I do not expect luck to save us a second time."

There's a cautious pause. From the way Peter feels she may be right about the dog, but he doesn't say anything to confirm even then. Perhaps that's why he also feels so cautious, trying to protect that house and the people who were supposed to be in it, whether they're still in it or not. Even the girl who turns to water seems to spark familiarity, though of a different kind. It's not the one. But it's someone. Instead, he switches to the questions, asked or unasked.

"It's not this country, not really. I mean— it is. They're United States soldiers, many of them, with government funding, but they were formed under false pretenses, false ideals. They thought they were trying to stop terrorists and help people, when really they're gathering weapons— human weapons— for terrorists. Not American terrorists, either— foreign ones, I'm pretty sure. But they do want to turn us into weapons and sell us to the highest bidder."

And there's two very powerful weapons standing right in this very house. "I don't know Novak Garbaldi, but— if you're trying to contact people, be very careful. Use payphones, if you can, or one of those throw away cellphones that you can toss immediately after." That's what he usually does, when needing to make phone calls.

Elisabetha is very startled by all of this. Far beyond the scope she had imagined — even though that scope was already hard to take in. "…They want to sell us?" She frowns. Contacting Novak would be a problem, yes. "Pre-paid phones… That could be useful. I'd just been avoiding everyone all this time."

"My Teacher— Mister Garbaldi, I guess I should call him now— he was working for Pinehearst to try to learn how abilities worked. I think… I think he wanted to 'cure' me. Because at the time I was very unhealthy and very dangerous." It's hard to admit that, but there it is. She was dangerous.

"I don't know where he is now, or what he's doing, but he knew to find me and mother and get us back together. And now we're here. We haven't heard from him since the message was delivered by a man who can be inside your head! Just like Officer Parkman. I don't know the mind-reader's name, but I think he tried to get rid of the dangerous part of my gift for me. So I know that Tea—Mister Garbaldi is doing good wherever he is if he has friends like that."

She glosses over the fact that Novak tried to shoot Sylar in the back of the head. He was just doing what he thought was right based on what he knew of Gabriel! "But I'm worried about him… Two months without any further messages. If… If he's trying to do something to stop these terrorists, then he might be in danger. Do you think you or any friends of yours could find him somehow? Make sure he's okay?"

She adds on quickly, "I know it would be dangerous, so you can say no. And I don't want you or anyone else to get hurt. But… I guess…" She looks down at the floor with her red eyes. She doesn't seem like the same woman that Future Peter met. Not in the slightest. "…I guess I'm just worried. Sorry for asking something like that. Just forget about it." She shakes her head as she raises her gaze back to Peter and smiles.

"You know Officer Parkman too?" Peter says quietly, surprised by how many people this young woman seems to know. Gabriel. Kory. Jamie. Now Matt too. There's no such a thing as coincidence in this world, he knows this well enough. It's destiny and fate, wrapping their lives around it's fingers. "I'm not sure how I'd find him with just a name, but— I can try. There's someone I can ask who might be better at it, too." Someone who can search the computers to see if the name comes up, see if he's captured, or one of those working for them…

If he worked for Pinehearst… it's possible.

There's something like relief across his face, stronger in his heart. She's not the woman in the memories that aren't his— maybe she'll live a long and happy life. Maybe she's no longer in danger.

It's somehing he wants. There's a pause, as he reaches out to touch her shoulder, a brief touch—

That comes with a flood. The emotions seem a mix of gratitude and relief, but also something sad, something— subdued. And it arches and becomes something much more complex. Panic, fear— a flood of something as he quickly pulls away. "I'm sorry. I— Sorry. I shouldn't have…" Shouldn't have touched her while thinking of the memories that he gained.

Elisabetha is still a bit subdued by her mother yelling at her. Yes she should have said something sooner. But she didn't even know all of it, so it's not like she could have said everything! And if foreign terrorists are in on it, then it's possible that being in another country wouldn't have been an obstacle. Still, she doesn't talk back to her mother, no siree. Instead she just smiles more warmly as Peter reaches towards her. She thinks he's just returning the gesture she gave earlier, when she was trying to comfort him. And his words about investigating through some friends also make her feel better. And somewhere in all this… She thinks that she may have helped Peter lose some of his inner pain. At least a little bit.

And then at that contact, it seems that the pain comes rushing back. Or at least some form of distress. She looks startled as Peter pulls away and starts apologizing. "It's fine. I don't mind. To desire contact with other humans is natural. To be able to connect to other people… And know that the world is real, instead of a dream… That's normal. I appreciate it. Really!" She doesn't get it. Doesn't know what just happened.

But she's still not that other woman. She could have been, if Future Peter hadn't come back. But he did. So now it will be fine. …Right? Either way, she finds herself thinking things she never has before. Peter might be hurting… But he's nothing like his father. He's kind, and considerate, and generous. He doesn't want to hurt people. He wants to HELP people. Just like she does. Elisabetha feels a bit of a blush come to her cheeks and a strange nervousness, before she looks away. What was THAT all about?

Sarissa has been standing off to the side, fuming coldly and considering all that has been said. Terrorists. Living weapons. People with abilities. Government involvement. Peter touching her daughter. …Wait, what! The emotions she feels from him are not the sort associated with perverts or people getting fresh with a woman, but what she can feel from Elisabetha tells a different story of how this is being taken on one side at least. She steps forward and tries to guide Elisabetha back towards the bathroom. "<Why don't you go put your other arm on, hm?>" she suggests in their native tongue. Then, once Elisabetha is out of the immediate area, she turns back to Peter, giving him an odd look as she walks back over to where she was before.

"It looks like you have enough on your plate already, as it is said here, without becoming involved in our problems. While I appreciate the information and your offers to help, I would not wish to drag you or anyone else into further danger." She smiles thinly.

"Elisabetha has been isolated for a very long time. Even now she is learning how to behave with other people, and how to feel emotions the way normal people do. If she became, shall we say, 'attached' to you, and these slavers were to take you away… Well, I'm not sure the results would be pretty for anyone involved. Her 'gift' can do a lot of harm, I am told. It would be best if any further contact was not >physical<, and does not give her any more reason to be infatuated with you than she seems to be becoming." Wow. Way to not mince words.

"There is no offense intended, but you strike me as the type who is getting thrust into dangerous situations on a regular basis. I would rather my daughter not be thrust into similar situations just by being around you." She then seems to relax a bit and says. "Thank you for what you have given us in terms of information. If you need information or assistance from us in return, you may speak to >me< as necessary. I will do all that I can."

There's such a flood that, for a moment, it's unclear if Peter even sees what's in front of him. His eyes are a little glazed, like he's half away. Only when the girl is pushed away, and left with just her mother giving him a lecture, does he blink and seem to come back to reality. He's not even sure completely what just happened. It may take a while to piece together…

"I— sorry." he finally manages, embarassed and mildly curious as he looks through the door. It's no offense at all, but he missed the smitten part, since he was— preoccupied. With other things.

"I'll— try not to. I'll get going now. Try to keep her safe, and yourself. If I find out anything about Novak Garibaldi, I'll let you know." Assuming he can find them again, if they're still here.

Closing his eyes, something about his emotions becomes very calm and focused— and then he's just not there. It's not like when he was invisible. He's just gone. And no where in range, either.

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