Date: December 12th, 2009
Hallis brings Christmas cookies over to Sydney's place and it all goes downhill from there.
"These Are The Days of Our Lives"
Still decked out in a pair of jeans and her long sleeve tee from when she was out this afternoon, Hallis has come back from an afternoon of shopping and carousing to an empty apartment. Andra and Zorro are still out. With a long sigh, Hallis looks around for something to do. When she sees several gift wrapped boxes the idea comes into her head and preparations begin.
So it's about an hour or so later when the noxious smell of whatever it is she baked permeates the hallway of the apartment and a proud Hallis emerges with a fresh plate of cookies. There's a quick rap on Sydney's door before she stands there smiling up to the peep hole, awaiting her inevitable invitation inside.
Planning a move during the Christmas season is lunacy but the Sydney household has begun to step up the timeline of getting out, especially in light of yesterday's events. It wasn't that Lena intends to cause trouble when she ventures out into the world, it's just that things like earthquakes tend to happen. Around her. All the time.
Also, three women, a man, a kitten, a beagle and a squirrel sharing one bathroom has begun to wear on everyone.
For the packing process, Lena has corraled the various animals in the guest bedroom. The door is shut, a mournful scratching sound against it every few minutes. But the brunette is ignoring that; there is an empty cardboard box in the middle of the living room floor, and Lena's job is to carefully wrapped framed pictures in newspaper before layering them in said box. Paranoia has her decked out in Gene's Christmas present to her, the black and neon turquiose body suit that makes her look as if she's masquerading as Lara Croft. Black leather gloves likewise protect her hands.
Hands that go very, very still when a knock is heard at the door. "Uh…Syd? You expecting anyone tonight?"
Moving is bittersweet for Sydney. Sure, she hasn't been here that long, but it's home. And she hates moving with a passion. Slowly she tissue wraps one glass at a time with a great deal of care. She's been oddly silent lately, and strangely absent. In fact, she's been working in silence most of the day. Distracted by something, but she seems happy enough. An odd grin is pasted on her lips as she wraps each glass.
With a hmmm, Sydney arches an eyebrow at the door. She isn't expecting anyone and then she says, "Oh. It's probably just Eric…" She glances at the lock and sees that it isn't latched (who came in last and forgot to lock it?!). With a slightly irritated sigh she shakes her head and pushes the thought out of her head. Finally she calls, "It's open, come on in!" Maybe she should be more concerned and should actually have checked the door, but her hands are full…
What a silly notion, had it been Eric he likely would have zipped into the shower instead of knocking… but. Sydney's call is really all that's needed before Hallis pushes open the door and sweeps into the room with a large smile. "Hi Sydney! I brought you cookies! I made them myself." Turning to close the door behind her, she hasn't actually had the chance to spy the neon and black clad woman yet. That is, until she turns back. "Oh hi, I'm Hallis, are you a friend of Sydney's?"
Then comes the flood of memory.
Then the crash as the plate of cookies hits the floor and the large breath inward as Hallis prepares to scream.
But the scream never comes. Because along with the entire Pandora's Box that is flooding her head, there is that lost bout of drunken empathy that Sydney was talking about the night before. "Oh damn…" Hallis mutters to herself, red with embarrassment as she bends down to pick up the glass and cookies. "Well, Merry Christmas Sydney. The plate was the gift, but I'll get another one." She doesn't let on what is going through her head.
"I dunno if that's a good idea, Syd, Gene said—" But Lena's uneasy observation is pre-empted by the apartment's owner, leaving her to look once more towards the door as it swings open. In wals a small woman, a large smile, cookies…and a whole lotta trouble. The girl simply gapes at first, too surprised to react until Hallis swings around again and actually addresses her. But when the plate is dropped, and a breath hitches in for a scream, Lena doesn't stick around to wait for the sound (even though it never comes!).
The picture she's holding is likewise dropped, thudding heavily against the carpet while Lena vaults over the cardboard box and takes off down the bedrooms' hallway. A door might be heard opening, followed by a yelp and a slam an instant later.
"Dammit," she murmurs to herself. Of course, the words coursing through Sydney's brain are much more explicit than the one she verbalizes. She too is frozen, staring openly at Hallis. Unsure of everything; not just her own blatant stupidity. Several beats pass before she inches forward only to stop. She takes a deep breath, she's going to need to remain calm. She mentally recites her list as she pads over to help with the plate, still reciting the list.
Bink. Blink. Blink. It's all she can manage as she picks up the pieces. She hadn't wanted them meeting. And now she's screwed up in more ways than one. With another calming breath, she fights the heart palpitations and anxiety creeping into her mind and feelings.
"Hallis… " Just breath Syd. Just breathe. "…I…" Swallow.
Recovering quickly, Hallis is still gathering bits of broken glass and cookie into a pile. "You would have loved the plate. Seriously. It was all Christmassy. I got it at Tiffany's." She's not shrieking harsh accusations, she's not even acknowledging that she even recognized Lena.
When the glass is all gathered, Hallis plods further in until she finds the broom and dustpan near the kitchen. Good thing about moving, the broom and dustpan are always handy. When she returns, she begins to sweep the mess up quietly. "So… will I remember this when I wake up int he morning?" It's her only question.
Meanwhile, in the guest bedroom, there is a brief ruckus. Uncle Fester the beagle is doing his beagly aroo aroo arooooo bay, obviously as agitated as the girl who disappeared into that room. A moment later there's another yelp, a cat's wail and finally silence.
Then the door is cracked open the tiniest bit, allowing a sliver of one blue eye to peer down the hall as Lena attempts to listen in.
Yeah, she's a coward. Who wants to make something of it?
And there it is. She obviously remembers. "Hallis, it's not like that," Sydney says blandly. "No one will erase your memory." Hopefully. We'll see. "I suspect George is one of us… and wouldn't… I mean he spoke to me about… and there's no reason…" She bites her tongue and shakes her head.
"Look, I'm sorry it happened before. It sucks. Believe me, I know. I was under the influence of someone else's ability and he actually raped me. And the worst part is I obsessed over him through it all… But people don't always have control. I'm a testament to that." Even if this isn't entirely true in Lena and Hallis' case, it at least makes sense.
"No, he wouldn't. But he really has nothing to do with it." Hallis murmurs, she's obviously hurt, but she's not making a big deal about it. "It's not really about you either. Well it is. But you're more of a tangent." She looks down the hallway and catches the eye in the doorway, staring into it. There's no hatred or malice in the stare. Curiosity maybe. It seems the young woman has changed, even if only a little, since their last meeting.
Turning back to Sydney, Hallis just purses her lips together and looks at her. "So, are we friends or are we not friends? Because if we're not, I should get this to the garbage and then leave. If we are, you should call her out of the bedroom and let me get this over with." She doesn't actually say what 'this' is, but she's calm. Not screaming. Did we mention not screaming?
Lena is in no fit state to linger and exchange long, thoughtful glances. When Hallis' face turns in her direction, the door is slammed again. This time, however, she follows it with an exclamation in a low but audible tone of voice that is…not entirely fit to print.
"You say George has nothing to do with it, but he has everything to do with it. People like us can trust no one. Not even each other. Especially people in the government. Someone is turning everyone against us." Sydney swallows hard as she glances towards the hallway. "And yes, we're friends, you and I," Kind of. Sort of. In an almost therapeutic sense of the word. "But she's my sister." Sydney tries to meet the other woman's gaze.
But then, there's another small rap at the door, but the person at the door doesn't wait for an invitation, it just opens. And there he is. Cute, unassuming, and medium built. Bryce. He's back… and has forgotten his last encounter at this apartment.
"Gee whiz Syd, ya made it hard 'nuff to find ya…" He takes a step into the apartment causing Sydney to step back. He shoots Hallis a winning smile before he takes another step towards his ex-fiance. This is all kinds of bad…
Cute, unassuming, and medium built, but he's also got visible gray hair and looks as though he's trying to grow a mullet. So the smile is returned with a rather tight one of her own. One that doesn't reach her eyes. In fact, she's kind of miffed at the man for interrupting her psuedo-explanation. "Can I help you?" Hallis says in a voice that drips with sugar. "Because we're kind of in the middle of something here." She hasn't quite made it anywhere with the dustpan and broom, so she probably looks like Sydney's maid, unless the man actually follows the tabloids.
As if things couldn't get any better. Lena (who has her ear still pressed to the door), hears that vaguely familiar voice, and a very familiar line. This is like some hellish case of deja vu, with the additional anxiety of Hallis being present. "Fuck fuck fuck," she hisses to herself. Because really, the situation deserves it. Then a deep breath is taken, expelled slowly as she strips her gloves off, and the door is opened again. Stepped through quickly, in fact, she she can close it behind herself before the menagerie escapes.
So it is that Lara Croft, Punk Version, comes striding down the hallway with a very grim look on her face. The tightness of her expression does a terrific job masking the fear. It'd be a movie-worthy sight, if it weren't for the Hello Kitty watch clasped around her wrist.
"Syd…you should maybe call someone." Eric. Gene. Tiago. Someone, anyone. Before Lena has to cut a bitch.
Bryce doesn't follow the tabloids, so he assumes Hallis is the maid. "No help necessary," he smirks back at Hallis as she addresses him. He takes another step towards Sydney, effectively cornering the therapist against a wall with a wicked grin spreading over his lips. "Ya can go," he sends towards Hallis.
"No, Hallis. You need to stay. Please stay," Sydney feels the wall against her back as Lena emerges from the room. Good. Witnesses, right?
Bryce takes another step towards Sydney, standing less than a foot from the blonde woman; within arms reach. This is terrifying. "Yes, I should call someone," Sydney agrees as she attempts to step around Bryce, but he steps as she steps. She's stuck and terrified. Awesome. She focuses to direct it to Bryce, as she can't afford to send that to Hallis or Lena at this moment…
And Bryce reacts almost immediately. His hand reaches out for Sydney's throat…
As he reaches for Sydney's throat Hallis' eyebrows shoot together in a deep frown. "GET YOUR INBRED BACKWOOD MULLET HANDS OFF HER!!" The socialite screams. Okay, now she's screaming. Also, she's racing toward him with a dustpan of glass, which can't end very well if she trips and falls. Thankfully, she's not Sydney.
When she remembers that she has the broom in her hand, Hallis drops the pan of glass which spreads all over the floor near her feet. Her shoes make little crunching noises as she steps on a few shards on her way to the corner. Both of her hands move to the broom which grips tightly, swinging it at the man's back.
The little blonde actually connects and actually bends the aluminum pole a little with the force that she swung it. Reefing it back again, she attempts another swing at the man. Hopefully, she doesn't clip Lena in the head as she brings the pole back for the second swing. Her little trauma earlier in the week has her hypersensitive to the mistreatment of women. And she's not above projecting her frustration onto the stranger.
If it weren't for street reflexes, it is likely that Lena would have taken a broom to the head. A duck saves her from that indignity, and her forward momentum carries her into the man she's already had to knock out once. No breath is wasted on screaming, or obscenities. With Bryce reacting to the pain of a kidney-shot, it's an easy thing for her to (almost) hip-check Hallis out of the way in order to throw an arm around his neck. Then her other hand comes down square over his face.
Sleepytime for Prince Charming. In fact, even as his sudden dead weight sags against her and it would be the simplest thing just to drop him, Lena keeps that hand (and arm) firmly in place. She sinks to the floor, braced on a knee that thankfully avoids landing on any glass shards.
Sydney's feet dangle off the ground just a little as the hand clamps around her throat. Her hands grope against the arm at her neck, trying to push it away as she chokes around the hand, trying for air…
but then she falls to the ground gasping for air and coughing loudly as Bryce crumples underneath the force of the broom, swearing loud expletives as it comes down towards him a second time. Except it doesn't hit him… he tightens his grasp around it, clutching onto the end of the broom, and then proceeding to give it a good yank, and then Lena touches him and like before, he's out… dropped. Down and out.
Seeing stars and rubbing at her throat, Sydney is still trying to catch her breath as she lays on the floor, gasping. Finally she manages a word, "S-stop…" it hurts around her bruising neck.
Pulling the broom out of his slack grip, Hallis rears back and gives him one last smack for good measure. It doesn't matter that he's already down, he's going to get a nice lump on his forehead from the little socialite. Then she drops the implement and races to Sydney's side, ignoring the Lara Croft punk.
"I'm going to call 911, you need a doctor and he needs to get put away." There's really no room for argument, that is until she remembers that she left her phone in her apartment. "Uhh… where's your phone? Mine's at home." It is only then that she turns to Lena and purses her lips, "Call 911. She needs a doctor."
Considering that Bryce's head is tucked neatly to Lena's shoulder, courtesy of the hand she has pressed to his face, Hallis' final blow does not earn the socialite any brownie points. "What the fuck!" the girl yelps, flinching and snatching her hand away. The shove sends the comatose man to the floor. That he lands in the spilled plate shards matters not in the least. The brunette is standing up, glaring daggers at the wee blonde. "Are you crazy? No doctors," she goes on curtly. "She's breathing, she's alive. I'm not explaining this asshole to the paramedics or the cops."
Bryce is poked with the toe of her big stompy boot, his motionless form earning a scowl as well before she looks to Sydney. "I didn't kill him." This time. "You okay?"
Unaware of what is going on or how he is about to be following in the footsteps of his friend Eric, Gene offers a couple of knocks on the door. He's dressed in his usual attire, black peacoat, jeans, t-shirt shirt of awesome which is currently covered up. He has on sunglasses and a scarf, things that keep him hidden from prying eyes. For now.
"N-no doctors," Sydney whispers as she clutches at her own throat. It hurts. A lot. Pain. This is exactly the sort of drama she'd told Morgana about earlier. Her heart is still racing, her eyes bloodshot. And now she's shaking. Adrenaline courses through her veins as she keeps gasping for breath. Her skin pales, and is cold to the touch. Her eyes are clamped shut as her chest rises with her gasping breath.
It's in this state she responds to the question in a whispered, laboured tone, "N-n-never…. b-b-better." And then there's a knock at the door. "S-s-s-omeone… g-g-get… th-th-that…"
A sort of apologetic look is tossed toward Lena before her inevitable shrug. The crack on his skull felt really good. "You don't need to explain anything to the paramedics or the cops. But he needs to go to jail." Hallis insists before turning a speculative eye to Sydney. "Don't be stupid. You can hardly talk and he was choking you, he could have crushed something in there. Besides, if you get a doctor's report it'll go right to his trial."
The knock on the door has the socialite looking at the punk with raised eyebrows. "Can you get that? I'm assuming you're a regular fixture here and it won't look wierd if you open the door." Then she takes a deep breath and licks her lips before adding, "And sorry about your hand."
"No," Lena says firmly. Hallis is outvoted in this instance. "And don't call her stupid." That last is added in a growl before she steps to the door. Yes, it is going to look pretty ridiculous for the brunette to serve as greeter, decked out in her body suit as she is, but there's nothing saying she has to open the entrance to whomever is out there. She peers through the peephole first, as any good security-minded person would. What follows is a gusty sigh of relief and her yanking the door open to wave Gene inside.
"Oh thank god. You've got seriously amazing timing, man. Quick. Life just got crazier," she warns him.
The young genius really really wants to just pivot on his heel turn around and walk away. But Captain American wouldn't do, Jesus wouldn't do it, and Batman… Likely wouldn't do it. So taking a deep breath, Gene removes his sunglasses and makes his way inside. "What's going on here?" he asks, his eyes scanning over the scene to try and pick up as many visual clues as he can.
Bryce's motionless body on the floor, the pieces of the broken plate (and rancid cookie remains), and the bent broom are all fairly good indications of what happened. Sydney's very pale very limp body resting against the back wall with redness around her arms resting on her throat is another indication. She's still shivering. "N-n-no doctors," she repeats in that laboured whisper. She can't say much else and can't force it instead opting to keep her eyes shut.
Hallis is still bent down beside Sydney and turns her head to look at Gene. "Finally, a voice of reason. Can you tell these two that this…" She waves toward Bryce, "Walking mullet needs to go to jail? They're not listening to me. For special people, they're not being very smart." Yes, a cursory glare is sent in Lena's direction when the woman makes her last comment.
Heaving a deep breath, Hallis just shakes her head. "You really don't have to worry about the police, Sydney. If you're worried about your… sister, you don't have to. Can you just trust me?" The young woman already lied to the police this week, she can lie again and again.
"Rich girl there walked in with cookies," Lena says quietly as she tags along at Gene's shoulder. It's a remarkable businesslike explanation, all things considered. "Saw me, I hid in the bedroom. Syd's ex came in after, went for her throat. This is the second time I've had to knock him out after he tracked her down here." Pause. "I don't think he remembered the first. He's out for at least twelve hours but we gotta figure out what we're gonna do with him, the last thing we tried didn't work. And…Syd's hurting. I could…"
But before she can suggest what could be done about that, Hallis' glare is spotted. Lena has no qualms about flipping the blonde the finger.
There is a simple nod from Gene. "First thing I'm gunna do… I'm gunna shut the door," the geek god states in an all too calm tone as he does what he said he was going to do. The door is locked as well, just in case. "Second thing, I'm gunna make a rule. You insult a person during crisis moments, you get a wet willie. This rule starts now, so…" Gene puts his finger into his mouth, making a popping sound as it comes back out. "I suggest we all play nice."
His bizarre threat made, he goes on. "Third, we are gunna play some music, loud enough to muffle, not loud enough to disturb the neighbors. Then we are going to talk this out… get the music started, I'm checking on Sydney." His wet pointer finger raised as a stern reminder, Gene goes over toward Sydney, looking for obvious signs of injury. There may be some nonsensical mutterings as he moves to the woman.
The wet willie comment ordinarily have at least gotten a smile from the therapist. She's still shivering, her skin is cold and clammy, and the adrenaline is still making her heart pump furiously in her chest. "H-h-h-i" she manages as she strains her neck to show off the redness and hand print that is bruising into her neck. However, even as she exposes her neck, she glances at Bryce regretfully. "D-d-don't touch me…" she murmurs. She doesn't need anyone to feel her guilt at this moment. Focusing her anxiety on Bryce is what did this right? It couldn't possibly be his own short-fused temper…
Hallis moves away from the woman and smirks when she receives the finger from the punk. It's no secret that she's not harboring a lost love for the girl, but she's somewhat of a nonentity at the moment. "Like the girl said. He came in and started attacking her." She begins slowly, not caring about putting two and two together. After hearing Lena's side she chews on her bottom lip for a moment and rubs her chin with a finger. "If he came twice because he couldn't remember, then he'll just keep coming back every time this happens." She looks down at the body and nudges it with her foot, the resulting rock gives him another shard of glass in his back. "I have a plan, if anyone cares to listen."
There is a snort from Lena, mostly as an expression of dark amusement. "Good rule," is her only remark before she eases past the scene of the crime to handle the request for music. There are boxes piled up in both the living room and kitchen, signs of their having been packing before chaos was introduced. Fortunately Tiago's xbox is still hooked up. A moment later, the harmonizing voices and acoustic guitar melodies of Tegan and Sara drift through the apartment.
Upon returning, the brunette squats down beside Sydney, her bare hands dangling between her knees. "No. This isn't your business, lady," she says, flicking a brief look at Hallis. "Syd? Syd. Lemme give you something to take the edge off, okay? I promise it won't be much. I've been practicing."
While Gene opens his mouth to say something to Sydney, he finds himself distracted with trying to be moderator for top and bottom of the ecomonical ladder. "Sure, Hal," Gene states as he rises up to look to her, taking a couple of steps as Lena does her thing.
Frowning, Sydney doesn't particularly want to be touched, not even to take the edge off for fear of exposing her own cluster of emotions. She has managed not to feed them to the room, but touch seems to enhance it as a sort of easy access button. But maybe if she really focuses Lena won't feel her emotional storm of guilt, pain, anxiety, distrust, and regret all rolled into one blonde emo package. Finally she nods, but not before she cringes as if bracing for impact from an accident.
Digging her hands into her pockets, Hallis simply nods to the punk girl. "You know what? You're very wrong, it is my business. If you don't want to listen, then you don't have to." Then she turns to Gene and purses her lips. "She said he's going to be out for twelve hours. That gives me enough time to make a couple of calls and get some cocaine or something normal to put into his system." She looks at Sydney and frowns a little, remembering the story she was told in Washington. "Is this the guy that used to beat you up? The one you think you're responsible for? Because it's not your fault. He'd be doing it with or without whatever it is you can do. He needs to go to jail, we can shoot him up with cocaine, tell the police he stormed over here and started trying to hurt you and then passed out when I hit him over the head. He's got the bump… they won't ask any questions. If he presses any charges on me, well, Daddy has enough money to bury him."
Gene only earns a brief frown, a glance that's soon diverted, for indulging the socialite. Lena is far more concerned with treating Sydney at the moment. She knows the look on the other woman's face all too well. "It's gonna be okay," she assures Sydney almost gently before she lays her palm over the therapist's forehead. The effect here is easy, and the mildest one that Lena possesses; Syd's going to get a low level marijuana high of the medicinal variety to calm her nerves and take the edge off of the pain, as the street kid had promised.
Once that's done, she looks up again, struggling valiantly to keep her lip from curling. "So you're the hero again? Yeah, good plan. Except my stuff is still gonna be in his system and coke doesn't act like this. Besides, you're a twig. No one's gonna buy that you took a guy his size out on your own. And there's no way in hell we can call the cops here. Cmon, tell her, guys?"
"No one is pumping illegal drugs into people unless we have to. Lena's stuff is on the line as is. There are times people are forced to play judge and jury, but this is something that the courts can and should handle," Gene states as he folds his arms. "We should let the law handle this, but not bring in anyone that might get in trouble. If there is an issue of how a man was taken down without physical force… Taser." Lena has her default solution… It would seem that Gene has his.
Ah. Relief. Just a bit. Just enough. Swallowing Sydney croaks, "I couldn't press charges anyways…" Not ethically. It was her fault. It's always her fault. Her lips twitch again as Hallis mentions her story, "Yes… that's him. I'm still at least somewhat to blame — " She finally lowers her hands completely by her side. Her neck is obviously bruising and perhaps a bit swollen. He'd held on hard.
"Aren't you due for a wet willie or something? Take a prosack and stop being so mean. I don't care about being a hero, I just don't want him loose… and what other choice do you have here? Kill him? That's not what good people do." Hallis just shakes her head when Sydney tries to take the blame. Heaving a large sigh, she just stares at the floor. "This isn't your fault Sydney, he's just going to keep coming back again and again. Press charges against him. Whatever it is you can do… it doesn't matter. Does everyone hit you when you get angry around them? No. Do they hit you when you get scared around them? No. He would have started hitting you with or without that. You can't think it's your fault."
Lena had lowered her hand, but at Sydney's continued display of guilt, fingers are returned to the woman's forehead. Perhaps a larger dose is in order, to help her achieve a more zen-like state. The girl's control of that effect is enough at least to allow her to glare blue murder up at Hallis. "Why? Why are we listening to her?" she demands, looking from therapist to geek and back again. "Did I miss something while I've been, you know, running for my life? I can't believe this." It's a shame she can't dose herself with the same stuff Syd is getting, really it is.
With a grunt, she gets herself back into a standing position. "I'm not gonna stick around if you're calling the cops in. That's just bullshit and you know it."
Gritting his teeth, Gene is confronted with a choice. He can either let someone else know about his less than stellar time with the law or he can try and argue this point dodging various truths like potholes in the road. For now, he decides the more blunt route.
Moving to a wall to lean against it, Gene rubs his forehead. "As long as people that aren't in trouble with the government aren't around, we'll be fine. Hallis and Sydney are squeeky clean in their books, and two against one is enough for a judge I would think. While there might be some bad people in the government doing some bad things, it doesn't give us the right to just decide to do whatever we want. If we do that, then we become no better than the people we are trying to stop. These are the defining choices. I won't take the wrong road just because its easier or safer. As long as we are smart, we can do the right thing and still come out ahead."
"But I should be better at this," Sydney croaks again. Her throat is raspy until Lena gives her another dose which puts her into a dreamy other-worldly state. "I put everything onto him… and I'm fine-ish… I just need to spend another five years avoiding him…" She still can't quite figure out why he's looking for her now and not just by fluke — he came again after being wiped of the first time. "— people have done strange things under my influence…" After Lena's second touch, Sydney is much calmer, but the rapid reduction in adrenaline makes her feel incredibly exhausted. Woozily she stands to her feet and walks towards the hall. "I need… rest," she says wearily. "You guys figure it out. Please. But don't hurt him… it's not his fault. I swear." That said, she trudges off for her room.
Finally, a voice of reason in the household. Hallis turns a grateful eye to Gene and breathes a sigh of relief. "Thank you," she begins, feeling a little bit guilty herself of the treatment she's been giving the plastic clad emo in the room. "Lena, you don't have to stick around for the police, but you can't just erase his memory and not expect him to come back or to stop looking for her. I would have looked for you again too after you raped my memory. But I didn't know what I was looking for. He does, he knows Sydney and he's going to keep coming again and again." She looks down at the mess of glass, the bent broom, the unconscious man. "You know, the police aren't bad. They're not going to start looking around for people with abilities just because one man went unconscious in a woman's living room. A woman that he was trying to strangle. They're going to accept our story and press charges against him."
Out of consideration for Sydney, Lena holds her response until the poor woman has shuffled by. She's capable of the deepest sympathy (empathy, really) even while seething with frustration. "Yeah, well, some of us don't mind getting our hands dirty if the people we care about are in trouble. Batman didn't worry about getting dirty sometimes," she snaps once the door to Syd's room has been heard closing.
And then? Stunned silence. Of the brief kind.
"Raped your…I can't believe this. I saved your life. And you don't know shit about me, or the cops, or any of this," she says, waving her hand around to indicate the apartment and the people inside of it. "You ruined my life. So fuck you, girly. Seeing as how you guys are getting along so well with this stupid plan of yours, I'm out." And she stomps by Gene to get her jacket out of the closet.
"Everyone is going to stay in this room. Everyone is going to talk this out like calm responsible adults. I am not letting people part wanting to secretly kill one another. As much I don't want to do this, we are all staying here until we get some understanding of one another in here."
As Gene attempts to be forceful for a change, he moves toward the door, standing in front of it. "When the alliance infight, the government wins… And I ain't letting The Man beat us today, you get me?"
For her part, Hallis is mostly concerned with guarding the unconscious man on the floor. "I'm not planning on killing anyone. I have no idea how I ruined her life aside from sacrificing a pair of good shoes to her vomit, but whatever." The young woman finds a chair at the dining room table, crossing her leg one over the other while keeping a solid eye on Bryce. "Whatever I did, I'm sorry. I don't go around ruining people's lives on a normal basis, so…" Then she just drops it, finding something a little bit interesting to look at.
"Holy cow! There it is!" The young blonde reaches down to one of the cookies and breaks it, pulling out a ring that had gotten baked into it. "Man I was going crazy trying to figure out where I put it. Hah.. could you imagine biting into this?" Finding a purpose, she begins to clean the ring of cookie crumbs and its of icing.
Lena pulls up short at finding the exit blocked, actually startled to find Gene in the way. She blinks at him to express that surprise but is grimacing shortly thereafter. It isn't easy trying to restrain the outburst she'd normally unleash on any one brazen enough to cut off her avenue of escape. Hallis' innanity is ignored in favor of locking gaze with the the Geek God. The streams are so crossed right now.
"When were you guys gonna tell me she's in the alliance?" She's quieter now, possibly due to having to speak with a gritted jaw, and angry enough that there's a suspicious sheen to her eyes. "I would've appreciated some of that fucking honesty you talk about all the time. Lemme go, Gene. I can't talk with that."
Narrowing his eyes, Gene's zen like calm is overcome and emotion begins to pour through in spades. "I figured she would HAVE to be in the alliance when she watched you drug up someone and she doesn't even KNOW I've got powers or that I saved her life a few days ago. But now she does because well…" Awkward pause. "…I announced it now. ANYWAY, I've done a lot of crap for you, Lena. A lot. And I will continue to do that stuff because you're a good friend and I don't have many of those. But if you are so keen on beliving in me, so eager to do something for me? You can sit down, put away the haterade, and help me try do the right thing. If you can't do that for me, then fine, go out the door, be angry /somewhere else/."
That said, Gene unlocks the door, opens it, and waits for Lena to decide. His cheeks are crimson red, but it isn't due to blush, that's for sure.
Hallis turns attention away from her ring when Gene begins his tirade and her jaw just drops. His name is Gene, not Luke, he is Prometheus and he looks very angry. Trying to look as normal as possible, she begins to clean her ring again, taking great pains to try to stay out of the argument between the unassuming man and the angry punk.
There had been no exaggeration on her part when Lena had warned Gene about the risk of goopiness when she cries. That risk only double when they're angry tears. They spill over her cheeks, and her nose is already running when she steps in close to the man to avoid being overheard. "Friends don't guilt each other into making choices. So fuck you too, for making me think I mattered," she grates at him. "I hope that hits you as fucking hard as you're hitting me right now. Good luck with the cops." Message delivered, she turns on one heel (in the boots he purchased for her, no less) and makes her self-righteous exit.
(To Be Continued by Gene or Hallis)