2007-02-24: Yin And Yang


Elle_icon.gif Paige_icon.gif

Summary: Paige gets a lesson in why she really shouldn't test Elle's patience.

Date It Happened: February 24th, 2007

Yin and Yang

Paige's Room - Kirby Plaza

The door to Paige's room is knocked on and this time whoever it is waits for a response instead of just shoving it open and Gestapo-grabbing her. "It's Elle." Ah, that clears things up. She knocks once more, just in case Paige didn't hear her the first time.

The knock takes her by surprise, but it's the voice coming from the other side of the door that elicits a wide-eyes stare from Paige as she rises from the bed. "Elle?" Because it needed clarifying, apparently. In a very disbelieving tone. She tugs the door open just enough to peer out at the blonde woman on the other side, narrowing her eyes. "What?"

"Yeah. Me. Look, I wanted to thank you for your help the other night." Elle scratches at her cheek with a manicured fingernail. "And I wanted to apologize for going all Fight Club on you the other day." Just a little psychosis afterall. "I was trying to test your abilities. Forgive me?" She sure looks really sorry, one step away from pouting in fact.

And Paige isn't buying it. Though she does open the door a bit more, it still stops about half-way. She leans one arm on the door, her other hand sitting on her hip. "Right," she says, unimpressed by the act. She watches Elle for a few more seconds, searching her face for some indication of what this might be about. "Did you want something?"

"Hey, I'm just being honest. You should try it sometime, princess," Elle fires back hotly, before calmly reigning herself in. She's here for something afterall. "The way you helped that guy was remarkable. You know as well as I do that there's a lot of other people out there who are just as injured. You could help them. And all it'd take is a little of your blood taken from you every morning. Did you think of that?"

Finally, Paige shoves a foot against the door, kicking it open the rest of the way. Gently, that is; she's not looking to break any windows or knock a hole into the wall. She doesn't make any formal invitation, however. She simply stands back a step, keeping a steady gaze on Elle. "Why? So I can give my blood to you people?" She somehow manages not to sneer, but it's clearly an exercise in restraint. "You don't care about helping people."

"If you opened your eyes a little there, stick-up-your-butt, you'd realize that's exactly what we're here to do. We track people with powers. We try to keep the most dangerous ones off the streets where they'd hurt the Normals. Yeah, sometimes we have to resort to pretty heinous tactics to do it, but who the hell else is there to do the job?" Okay, this time? Elle's voice rises a little in anger. "You like to sit in the ivory tower your daddy built for you, you self-righteous bitch. You're sure you're right, every time. You think you know everything about the Company there is to know. Hell, you think you know everything about the world. That's another difference between us… I don't pretend to know everything that's going on. I know I'm in the dark. And I sure as hell don't like sitting where my dad tells me to."

"And me?" Elle is certainly getting to Paige, that much is obvious, and she takes another step backwards. She folds her arms over her chest, regarding her nemesis with a glower fit to kill. "Why am /I/ here?" Her eyes narrow again, one hand gripping the opposite arm tightly, her nails digging in; it's a reaction to the comment about her father, and it's not a happy one. "Am I some kind of /danger/ to you? Is my mother some kind of /danger/ to you, that you needed to do what you did to her?" She means 'you' in the sense of the Company, clearly. Ah, if only she weren't so short, she just might be threatening. Maybe. But probably not. "You know what? Spare me. I've gotten enough lies from my father."

"Sorry dear… but what happened to your mama was your papa's fault. Maybe you should have asked him? Hm?" Elle smiles at that. She brightens in exact inverse proportion to the amount Paige glowers. "And as far as you're concerned? I thought you were the one who agreed to come with us. So you're sort of responsible for your own predicament, aren't ya, sweet cheeks?" Pause. "Wow and I thought /I/ was screwed up."

"He wouldn't have done it if /you/ hadn't made him think he had to," Paige snaps, her eyes transfixed on Elle, unwavering, unblinking. "He was protecting his family." Now she takes a step towards Elle, abandoning all attempts to hide her disdain for the woman in her room. "/I/ am protecting my family." There's a flash of a smirk, something smug, before she speaks again. "I know that must be hard for you to understand, since your Daddy sold you out when you were a kid."

That smile of Elle's disappears. She notes in a discordant voice: "You can't seem to decide whether your father is a good or bad yourself. You sound confused. I know my father has done things… but he's still my father. The way I see it, my father never saw the need to lie to me about what I was. Yours apparently did." Then she takes a step forward, so she's almost brushing chests with the teenager. If they were the same height, that is.

"My father did what he had to do to keep me safe." Has this become a 'my daddy is better than your daddy' argument? Why yes, yes it has, and Paige seems quite convinced that hers is, in fact, better. She doesn't flinch or back away when Elle approaches her. Her chin tips back just slightly so that she might keep a closer eye on the blonde. "He never experimented on me like some kind of /lab rat/. He wanted me to have a normal life."

That's about when Elle's brows come together and her expression darkens. "What are you talking about?" Her voice is tight and low. But she doesn't wait for an answer, no, she reaches forward to try and slap Paige right across the face.

This time, Paige was expecting such a move, and she takes a well-timed step back before Elle can slap her in the face. There's a self-assured smirk on her face now as she knows she's upset the other woman. Vindication. "What, don't you hear the rumours?" She takes another pair of steps backwards, just in case this next part is liable to get her slapped again. "Your daddy's been using you as a guinea pig for years." Pause. "That's the story, anyway." But is she making it up?

This has ceased to be amusing for Elle. Like a bull with red in front of it, she pushes into the room and kicks the door shut behind her. For the moment, her hands have found her hips. Whether they'll stay there is yet to be seen. "I don't know what you're talking about, but it isn't funny. You may not be able to die, but I can make every day hell for the rest of your life. Stop /lying/."

Like before, when Elle goes one way, Paige goes the opposite - only this time, it's Paige's turn to be amused. The corner of her mouth is just barely turned up in that same self-satisfied smirk, her chin tipped down, a challenging look cast across the room to Elle. (Later, she'll think about how mean it was to rub this in, but for now, she's enjoying the vengeful turn.) Standing up a little bit straighter, she says, "Try me, blondie."

Paige REALLY shouldn't have tested Elle on this one. The reckless streak in the girl, combined with her anger just bubbles forth and she shoots her arms outwards, launching (point-blank) a ball of lightning right into the brunette. It's got some awesome power behind it (anger, FTW!) and though she didn't plan it, she's knocking the girl in the direction of the window.

Paige has very little defense against having a ball of lightning being thrown at her. Though she scrambles somewhat frantically to get out of the way, the ball still strikes her squarely in the chest. The force is enough, indeed, to have her thrown towards the window. It happens fast - very fast - and in the next instant, Paige is crashing through the window. The glass left in the frame is jagged and tipped with blood, but the majority of the window is falling to the ground below. As is Paige.

Elle is left stunned at her own actions in the room up above. She's got enough together to stand there and blink a few times, mouth open as she stares at the broken glass and the big empty window. After a few seconds, she comes to herself and slaps a hand to her forehead, "FRICK!"

If you've never heard a person hit pavement after falling out of a window from twenty storeys, consider yourself lucky. Anyone unfortunate to hear the sound Paige makes as she strikes the ground outside the Kirby Plaza building is likely to remember it for the rest of their life. It's gruesome. It's gorey. There are bones sticking out where they shouldn't be, a leg bent in a way no leg should ever bend, and a pool of blood seeping away from her head.

…but that doesn't slow her down much. After a few seconds, Paige stirs, pushing herself up to sitting. She pushes the bone back into her right forearm with a grimace, then grabs her leg and twists it back the way it ought to be. Shards of glass are pulled out of her arms and side, the wounds closing up almost immediately. Finally, she rises to her feet, looking up to the broken window with a glare. The front of her shirt has a hole burned straight into it, exposing her belly, though by now it's regenerated. "Crazy bitch," she mutters beneath her breath, rolling her head from one side to the other with a satisfying crack as something slips back into place. It's a few more seconds before she leaves the alley, headed back towards the front of the building so that she can return to her room.

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