Hope
A halo of sun streaked, honey golden curls float around this woman's deeply bronzed face with lighter pale blonde streaks highlighting it. The sides are pulls up and back in the front by a hair clasp creating almost a crown effect of curls, though stray sun-kissed tendrils wisp and curl around her face to frame it softly. Sun Bleached golden eyebrows frame her somewhat almond shaped bright green eyes, aided by the long sweeping golden eyelashes. Her small button-like nose has a faint hint of pink to it from hours in the sun and her cheeks glow with a healthy bronze. Her full rose hued lips looking even paler in comparison to her tanned face have no need of any artificial hue but are covered by a clear gloss. She stands 5'6 in shoes and her slender frame shows evidence of having also been touched by the sun's rays, a golden bronze color showing from any exposed portion of her body.
Hope wears a simple pink sleeveless blouse that has tiny little flowers in the print. The shirt tails are out and tied in a knot at her waist, exposing a little bit of her belly if she bends or stretches certain ways. A plain, non designer pair of jean shorts that from the frayed edges on the thighs looks like they were once jeans in a form life. They aren't tight but fit well as they should with plenty of room for movement and shows off the great tan she's gotten on her legs. A little pair of plain white canvas tennis shoes cover her feet sans socks. She carries a backpack that looks like it's seen better days that holds a jacket and a few other items she may need but curiously there are also art supplies in it such as colored pencils, charcoals, a plain notebook with sketches in it, some paint brushes, and ink pens. Of course you're gonna have to look in the bag to see all this.
Larson
Standing about 5'3 to 5'4 in shoes, Larson's features long and slim. His frame is lanky, seemingly gaunt and fragile, but beneath the surface lies the lightly toned body of someone used to activity and movement, flexible yet bordering on androgeneous. His face is what draws the fans to him: long and thin, with high cheek bones, an angular jaw, a narrow but longish nose and a prominent brow ridge that slants his eyebrows downward as if always looking serious or dangerous. His eyes are brown, shifting from amber to deep mocha. Hair is cropped short in the back, but longer on top, standing out in feathery spikes which taper down to his ears. Lips are thin, ears a bit narrow, with a slight nip on the tip, giving him an elfish look. His pallid skin is flawless, free of blemishes and scars. Odd.
A pair of leather black leather pants adorned with buckles and straps around his thin legs disappear into heavy calf high boots that would put Neo's to shame. Around his waist is a wide belt that hangs crookedly on his hip, decorated with thin chains. His black shirt is a very thin Lycra that hangs rather loosely on his small frame, the scooped neck exposing his collarbone. A band wraps around one upper arm, and on the opposite forearm is the sort of gauntlet sword fighters use, a black but pliable material that reaches to the knuckles on the back of his hand, and underneat that are black leather fingerless gloves.
Paul
He stands at about 6ft and is very thin, maybe 150 pounds. He has short raven colored hair, with the front part of his hair coming down to right above his eyes to give him that goth look. His eyes are a soft blue, glossy color, contrasting badly with the rest of his body and attire. His face has an almost perpetual frown on it, more from his hard life than anything else..it seems as if this teen rarely smiles at all. As with most goths, he wears solid black. A black Disturbed concert shirt, with black baggy jeans. His black combat boots have red writing on them with various band names on them. His skin color is an almost pasty white, overall he looks the very part of a goth. As a goth, he is moody at most times, but he knows when to hold it in check...its not always the best thing to pop off to a cop. He carries himself with a quiet demeanor, as if a gloom hangs about him.
Gremlin
Gremlin carries himself like a coiled spring, big black eyes alert for some threat as yet unseen. Rodent-like ears twitch out from an unruly mop of hair, the same verdant green as the fine pelt that covers the rest of him. A nervous lick of his lips betrays a jagged mouthful of shark's teeth. A scruff of longer fur on his chin suggests a goatee. One eyebrow is pierced by a small bone ring.
His short, athletic frame is covered by green fur and blue jeans. He's a bit on the scrawny side, but there's still some wiry muscle under the fur defining his chest and arms. His hands, clawed, clutch idly at the air; his bare feet are also clawed. He's wearing his overlarge jeans backward -- allowing for about five feet of a scaly pink tail like a rat's to escape the back.
Lorna is, for all intents and purposes, gazing at the images on the walls.
Hope enters the room, unaware that there is someone elses there already, mostly due to the fact that her head is down but also from her mind being elsewhere at the moment. She's been drawn to this place many times since her recent occupancy in the Mansion. For all intents and purposes she is still oblivious of the nature of the occupants but she has had a few run ins with people that have left her wondering just wha kind of school this is. Sure there are people here that are more than likely disconcerted that there is a human in thier midst but those words have yet to be voiced to the young blonde girl.
Lorna's thoughts are elsewhere, too. More like, her memories aren't in her head anymore, they're stored on some alien technology getup nearby, and she's waiting to get them back. Then again, she doesn't even know it's possible yet. Still, the faces on the wall are so familiar... A lithe hand lifts, slender fingers reaching out to touch the portrait of herself with a bit of wonderment, a touch of bewilderment, a lot of sorrow.
Hope glances up from the floor as she nears a portrait that she seems particularly fond of. It's one of Piotr's that captures the earlier students at play in the backyard. It's now that she notices she is not alone. Her subtle southern country accent comes with her words. "Oh...I'm...sorry I'll come back another time." Though her eyes do stray to the other woman's green hair for a moment before she turns to head back out.
"You're not disturbing anything," Lorna murmurs in return, while her hand withdraws from the picture. A little sigh escapes her lips. "...I'm just... trying to recapture a few fleeting memories."
Hope pauses in her turn towards the door and looks back at the woman, smiling ruefully. Her voice is soft and low in the gallery, much like the way one speaks in a library with reverance to thier surroundings. "Memories. Yeah, I hear ya." She crosses the room slowly coming to a halt in front of the same painting that Lorna is before, remaining silent for a while as she looks on. "it's a nice one." she comments on the painting before turning to point to the one she was originally approaching "I think that one is my favorite. They look so..natural. Happy"
"...And I don't... recall who any of them are," Lorna murmurs blankly, while turning her attention to Hope. "I barely recall who the woman in this portrait is." The green haired woman raises her hand, to gesture to her own portrait.
Hope blinks and looks at Lorna suprised. She's silent for a long moment before she finally says "You....don't remember?" she asks looking at the woman with disturbing scrutiny. Surely unsettling to the person being scrutinized but the country gal seems to have stumbled upon something or rather someone that she has something in common with after all in this beautiful but bizzare place.
Lorna shakes her head lightly. "Can't remember much at all." The emerald-haired woman glances back to her own portrait, frowning. "Long story."
Hope nods, still staring and not aware of her staring. "I...I know what you mean. But .." she grins a little self effacingly and looks down at her shoes. "for me the story's not so long. Kinda short." She extends her hand to the green haired woman and says "I'm Hope."
The one once known as Polaris lifts her hand to accept Hope's proffered gesture. "I'm... told I'm Lorna." A wry little smile curves her lips, "So far, everyone agrees."
Hope shakes the other woman's hand firmly still smiling and nods "Yeah....Oh hey..they bother to tell you your last name Lorna? Cause I have yet to find that out. So far I'm only Hope." she says as she lets go of the hand, chuckling alittle. She sticks her hands in her pockets and looks around "And so far I haven't quite figured out what this place is either. It's kinda strange here but everone's seemed pretty nice so far."
"I think it's some kind of school." Lorna glances back to her photo, adding, "I think it's Dane. My last name, that is."
Hope nods as the other woman makes the comment about the school. "That's what they've told me but..." she trails off not wanting to disturb the woman or make her panic. "Lorna Dane. That's pretty name." No it isn't false flattery but a genuine compliment, simple and pure from the country gal.
"Not so sure about the first name," Lorna laughs a little, while turning her gaze back to Hope. "I'm more fond of Hope than Lorna. I can think of hundreds of names I like better."
Hope gives a big grin and shrugs "Well I guess that's the good thing about people like us. We can call ourselves whatever we want. Till we remember." She was a hare's breath from saying if we remember but stopped herself. She's not so sure she wants to remember not after finding out she was a vampire groupie. "So how long you been here? I got here about a week ago. Mr Xavier was supposed to be helping me get my head straight but I think he's been a little busy with the school."
"He's been too busy to help me, too. And... apparently, I went here." Lorna gestures toward her graduation photo, and a lift of her shoulders follows. "Apparently, that man..." she gestures toward a picture of Alex Summers, "Is my boyfriend. Cute, isn't he?"
Hope steps closer and looks at the painting. The man looks familiar for some reason. The blonde hair, the chisled features. She looks confused for a moment. "He sure is. well imagine waking up and finding that out " She chuckles and scans over the pictures. Pointing up at Nightcrawler she says "I met him. He...seemed to know me."
Lorna's eyes lift to find the Fuzzy Elf. "... ...I sincerely hope he didn't know you in the way I'm thinking he might know you. I can't imagine waking up and seeing that looking back at me."
Hope blushes a deep shade of red. Yes she actually blushes. "Oh!..oh no. No no no...I don't think it was...um...was like that." she stutters over her words her eyes wide as saucers.
"... I'm sorry, Hope," Lorna apologizes profusely, but unable to help from giggling a little. "Y'... turned about 4 shades of red..."
Lorna's giggling is infectious and Hope joins in her hands going to her face. "I did?" she asks and then turns to the other woman once the giggles subside. "Care to have some milk and cookies in the kitchen? I think we're gonna be great friends." Milk and cookies? Yeah okay so her tastes are simple.
"Sure." Lorna's not a sophisticated girl. Besides, who in their right mind would turn down cookies and milk? The older woman smiles beautifully, and gestures Hope forward with a curtsey. "After you, M'dame."
Hope heads out of the room with a little spring in her step. She's found a kindred spirit. Someone who knows what she's going through. They enter the kitchen.
Lorna strolls in before Hope, and holds the door open for the younger woman. "Last floor: Power tools, male strippers, cookies and milk."
Larson is sitting at the table with a can of Coke in his hand, looking like a man sitting at a bar with a beer, one hand on his forehead, elbows on the table, slouched over. Just add the country music and he could be a bar fly.
Hope blinks, believeing every word Lorna says. In a hushed whisper she asks 'They have male strippers here?" sounding scandalized. Of course she further seems shocked as she sees Larson sitting there and turns to whisper to Lorna "Is he one of the strippers?
Larson would be a good stripper if he weren't so shy and modest. Looking up as people come in he blinks. "Hope?" he asks, amber eyes full of hope that she wouldn't turn on him like so many of the others have. "Hope?"
"I was kidding," Lorna giggles quietly, while nudging the country girl gently. Her attention turns toward Larson. Now how's that for timing on Larson's part? He's so good, he doesn't even have to make an entrance on the good lines, they come to him. "And no, I don't... think he's a stripper. Never seen him before... I don't think, anyway."
Ah, hell. Somewhere down the hall, a gruff voice is shouting, 'That /ain't/ my goddamn NAME!'. Lorna looks back toward the hallway, frowning suddenly. "...Wonder what's going on...?"
"I'll be back in a moment," Lorna intones, and slips out.
Paul walks in from somewhere, he looks like he was taking a nap. Damn lazy bum! Anywase, he walks over to the fridge and grabs some of that left over chicken and starts to grub.
Hope glances down teh hallway and nods to the departing Lorna before looking over at Larson. 'Um..hi...I...guess you knew me? Or know me? Or...well I'm not sure how this works. " she adds with a nervous chuckle stepping on into the room. Well at least he isn't a stripper right? She looks over at Paul as he enters and smiles a little, still standing in uncomfortable silence in the doorway from the hall.
Larson looks at Hope, his expression falling into the look similar to a little boy who had just been told Santa doesn't exist. "MMmm.eh.." is all he can say before he drops his head down to the table with an audible *CLUNK*, covering his head with his hands. "This is such a nightmare..."
Paul looks over at the clunk, he seems to be gnawing on a bone. After he swallows and wipes his mouth off he saunters over slowly, "Umm...Larson, everything cool?" he tilts his head a little and spares a glance for the woman.
Hope blinks and jumps a little as she watches his head and then hears the loud clunk on the table. "Puch" she says in a quiet voice. Looking to Paul concern she says "Is...is he okay?" Sounding concerned and taking a few steps into the kitchen.
Hope glances down the hallway and nods to the departing Lorna before looking over at Larson. 'Um..hi...I...guess you knew me? Or know me? Or...well I'm not sure how this works. " she adds with a nervous chuckle stepping on into the room. Well at least he isn't a stripper right? She looks over at Paul as he enters and smiles a little, still standing in uncomfortable silence in the doorway from the hall.'.
Larson shakes his head. "Nothing's cool. God someone just shoot me." he thumps his head down again. "Hope, you really don't know me?" he swallows, peeking out frmo the crook of his elbow. "Please tell me this is just a joke."
Paul tosses a shrug at Hope. He tosses to bone into the garbage, "No ones going to shoot you man" he says trying to calm Larson down. "Maybe later I'll get one of the others to throw you in the pool." He smiles thinking of eithe piotr or mark...then shakes his head. "Anywase, why so glum? I mean your talking to an attractive woman, I'd be pretty happy." But then, he has alot to be happy about atm. He smiles at Hope.
Hope stops by the fridge and shrugs helplessly "I'm sorry...but I don't. I ...I .mean I don't remember anyone...not even me." she tries to explain doing a poor job of it. She blushes a little as Paul tosses off the compliment even if it weren't directed right at her.
Larson clamps his eyes shut, "WHy...whywhywhy. Just put me out of my misery now. Maybe I'll jump off the roof. Then three days later another me will come back. Wonder how many of me there are. But yes, she is pretty, always thought so, but she was in love with someone else, I believe."
Paul blinks a few times and scratches his head. "Huh? I'm confused again." He looks at each of them and just shakes his head, "Miss, if you'll come sit down, maybe we can figure whats going on?" Hell why not, he can try and be a frued type...damn hes to tired to do something like this.
Hope walks over to the table and sits opposite Larson. "I am? I mean..in love? Who?" she looks very interested in this her eyes alighted with inner curiousity. She looks at Paul and smiles again 'I...I sort of don't remember well,...anything. Someone else told me my name even but...that's why I'm here. The Professor is supposed to try to do...something" she waves her hadns idly in the air indicating she has no clue what " to make it better
"Ohmygod Larson, have you looked *outside*, there's --" BUMP. "Ow." Gremlin's making his entrance, climbing up out of the tiled floor by Larson like it's water in a pool -- and then, in his haste, accidentally thumping his head on the edge of the table. So for people like Hope on the other side of the table, his clawed hand is the first thing they see, meeting and rubbing at his green mop of headfur as the young Morlock stands. He starts over. "Have you looked *outside*? Like, the whole staff is out by the pool! Do you think there's trouble they haven't told us about?" The green boy tosses in a "Hey Shade," as an afterthought, plus a silent appreciative appraisal for hope. But since his eyes are pupilless black it's hard to tell that he's looking her up and down.
Larson looks down at Gremlin and rolls his eyes. "Maybe they're having fun to get the sticks out of some of their butts and chill out." he's trying to unsuccessfully mope here. "If there was trouble they wouldn't be dealing with it in the pool."
Paul smirks at grem. "Sup." He looks at Larson and shakes his head. "Well...you need to get out of that pity trip your in." He looks at Hope, then back at Larson, "And if you know this girl, try to help her remember? Who knows, maybe you won't need the professor." He shrugs, he never was good at that psy...psychi...brain shit anywase.
Hope looks over at the hand that is on the table and lets out an involuntary gasp at the sight. Hey she can't help it. She's not used to these things. She looks quickly to the other two with wide eyes but relaxes a little as they seem to take it as status quo. She raises her fingers to waggle them in a waves to the furry guy before looking back to Paul and Larson. "Yes..I would like that very much. To remember. " the good things she thinks to herself, the bad things like vampires and such...eh she could do without those.
Gremlin sees conspiracy in any large gathering of staff. "Maybe that's what they *want* us to think. If they were in the war room or something we'd *know* there's something up. Reverse psychology." He stresses the last word slightly to correct Paul. Gremlin seems wholly unconcerned with how rudely he has interrupted Hope's questions -- no less rudely than how he inquires after her identity. "Who're *you*?" He heard the gasp. He always does. It's noted for future reference.
"You want to know? I can't fill you in on the past year but I can at least tell you what happened before I died. But you might not want to hear about that. But there were a couple of years in between there that were ok. After that you're about as filled in as I am. Gremlin, you're such a dork. They aren't plotting anything, just chill and have a can of Coke or something."
Paul smirks at Gremlin. "You sound like a guy I met in Atlanta, he thought everything was the product of the Chipmunks forming an alliance with the dogs." He smiles slightly as he remembers, but shakes his head. He looks down and winks as the floor where his shadow is. It pools together and slithers up his body to his shoulder, forming a falcon. "If the staff was up to something, wouldn't there be other signs." He totally ignores the fact that he saw one of the staff storm out in a very pissed off mood.
Hope's eyes widen a little at the shadow falcon as it appears on Paul's shoulder. See, it's taking her a while but the little flatscan is getting used to all these mutants little by little. But wait a minute! Did the one called Larson just say something about being dead? Her eyes flash over at him and she asks 'D..dead? Are you a...a vampire?" she asks. After all she's met those already. They brought her here. Remembering her manners she turns and looks at gremlin "I'm Hope." but she doesn't say her last name since she doesn't know it.
In the distance near Foyer, you hear someone yelling.
As if Gremlin isn't twitchy enough without added caffeine and sugar. But he helps himself to one from the fridge anyhow. In the process he distributes dirty looks: a scowl for Larson, a glare for Paul. He accepts Hope's simple introduction but doesn't reciprocate: after all, Larson *said* Gremlin's name, didn't he? "Well, I think I'ma go make sure nothing's up out there." He points to Paul's shadow-falcon. "Can you see or hear through those things? I'm goin' upstairs." Gremlin won't be caught spying on staff again, but inciting other students to spy is a different matter. He heads for the Foyer door, leaving his clone friend and the amnesiac stranger to get acquainted.
Larson shakes his head "I was. I killed your roommate, don't you remember?" he asks, getting to his feet. "Then I followed you here and got incinerated by Alex and Rachel Summers." he looks around and sighs. "I have a lot of packing to do. Loading the car with my gear tonight, will be out of here by tomorrow."
Paul shakes his head and mumbles about people and pity. He hears the yell from the foyer, and looks back at the others. They can take care of themselves, he heads to investigate.
Hope looks frightened at Larson's admittance but confusion follows. She looks to the retreating Gremlin and Paul and looks as if she's ready to whimper. "But..How? I mean..how are you here if you're not..." she lets the sentence dangle.
Gremlin hesitates in the doorway, just before stepping out. "Larson, you're packing? Is your tour back on or somethin'?" His tone is worried.
Larson snorts. "I'm a clone. And Xavier has insisted I change my name. I'm not allowed to be Larson Steele anymore. What should I change it to? Apparently I'm nothing more than a hollow shell." to Gremlin he shakes his head. "No. I'm moving out. The last person I had to turn to just stabbed me in the heart. I can't take this stuff anymore, man, I gotta go. It's driving me nuts."
Hope reaches across the table and takes Larson's hand giving it a little squeeze. "You're more than that. I can tell." She shrugs a little and gives that smile of hers. She's knows another lost soul when she sees it, her heart taking the driver's seat away from her fear.
"What!?!" Gremlin's bares his teeth. His ears fold back. "That's totally unfair! He can't! That bastard! I'll kill him!"
Larson glares at Gremlin. "No, you won't." he squeezes the hand back gently and shakes his head. "According to him I'm not who I think I am. I'm just a replica with his memories stored inside my head. I'm programmed to think that I'm Larson, but he says I'm not. I'm just a copy of a dead boy that's buried a mile and a half from here." he sets his jaw firmly. "That's what he said. He said I'm not allowed to live as Larson anymore. I have to change my name and develop a life of my own." he puts his fist to his chest. "Don't I even get a say in it? Don't I have a soul? He's the goddamn telepath...how can he be so freaking blind? He was gonna expell me anyway, man. who needs this shit."
Hope tilts her head, thinking about it a bit before saying anything. But when she does speak it's wisdom that might not come from those more in the know. Perhaps it is best that one who is also a blank canvasvoices this "Maybe it's for the best though. I mean..." she says looking between Larson and Gremlin "What i mean to say is...maybe you should take a new name. For a new life. To have the chance to be you and not someone you were forced into being. I believe you have a soul. maybe taking on a new name, a new .." she gestures with her hands trying to find the words..."life will help you discover who you really are. "
Gremlin wants to say, "Then I'll leave too." But he can't. The words catch in his throat. The mental blocks Xavier has put in Gremlin keep the anxious young mutant from even planning to flee the Institute grounds without permission. So instead he wrestles with himself to devise a new intent, "When I can, then I'll leave too. He's just not being *fair*."
Larson puts a hand to his forehead. "Hope, this is a new body yes, but I am still /me/. It's MY soul in this body, nobody elses. I AM Larson Steele! Nobody forced me to be me. The guy copied my body and my memories and brought me back to life. The guy that did it is a total jerk but hey, I'm me and I'm alive. Why do I want to let him take that away from me?"
Gremlin whirls and completes his exit. "This isn't fair. He's hearin' that from *me*."
Hope looks to Gremlin and smiles softly, a tiny gesture but one that tells volumes. She admires his loyalty to his friend. her hand doesn't let go of larson's other hand. "but how...did the soul jump? How did it end up in your body?" See all this is totally new to her. All of this.
Larson shrugs, sitting down again. "I don't know. I don't remember a lot of it. I just know... I'm not so eager to give up everything I've worked so hard for. If he wants to take that away from me, then I'm just not going to let him. Maybe you should go see what's going on in the Foyer. Seems to have everyone interested."
Hope stands and tugs on his hand. "Let's go see. Maybe later...maybe you can have someone talk to the Professor with you? I'd be willing to help. I'm not a student or anything but...I'm willing to help." She offers a small smile. Yep, same old Hope, even without her memories.
Larson sighs and steps out with her. "I'm just going to go up to my room. I'll walk you out." all the way to the foyer. Such a gentleman.
Paul steps threw the shadow of the refridgerator and pants for air. He leans over and coughs as he catches his breath and chokes for a moment. He clears his throat and says two words, "Vampire...foyer." Then doubles over again coughing.
Hope looks alarmed. She's already standing, still holding Larson's hand as they prepare to go out the door. The color drains from her face and she whispers "What did you say?" to Paul.
Paul coughs but holds up a finger to her. When he can finally draw breath again and stands up and blinks a minute, clearing his eyes. "Two...vampire and friend, Armand is the vampire. He apparently dropped you off her to have your memory healed, even though he says hes sorry for scaring you. The other one is female, but other than that, I couldn't tell much...she was really quiet." He pops his neck slightly and looks at her. "What do you wanna do."
Hope looks troubled for a moment. She finally sighs and nods "I guess I should go out there." She lets go of Larson's hand and gives him a weak smile. "remember what I said okay?" She turns and begins to trudge out into the hallyway. At least she feels safer here.
Paul nods his head and steps behind her, but off to the side. If it comes down to it, he can at least get her out of there...but thats about it.
Warren sences Lissa's calm and allows it to relax him. Armand and Katrina simply looked different. But what is different in a school with winged teachers, demonic looking swashbucklers and metallic strongmen? Warren chided himseld for his own prejudice against Goth types and marveled that even he, a mutant, could slip into such and old trap. "Well it was certainly nice to meet you Armand...Katrina. I"m off to get comfortable and find my latest copy of the Economist. Good night." He turns to Lissa and smiles, saying only one word, them walks off with a wink. "Tuscany..."
Katrin casts a brief smile at Lissa over her shoulder, "Do not worry, Lissa-san. I will be back... I promise." she calls back, ending with a slight sigh as she slips out the door.
Warren doesn't seem to forget things does he? Lissa watches as Warren leaves, wrinkling her nose a bit and laughing with breathiness at his last word. Apparently she knows what it means. And the laughter brings the flush of health back to her more sleepy features. She'd waved briefly, then nodded to Katrin after, "Goodnight." She'd called out...but she was already gone.
Armand unfolds his arms to wave at Warren leaving. His eyes are transfixed by those long white feathers as he passes. Thoughts of snow come to mind, or clouds... or something even brighter. He closes his his eyes breifly then, maybe to drive out the thoughts along with the vison of those wings. He should be leaving with Katerina, but before he had really decided to go with her, she was gone, and Lissa was asking her to stay. Does he simply turn on his heel after this? Not just yet.
Off in the corner, the shadows flicker for a moment..
Hope steps into the foyer just as the doors are closing on the porch, Paul behind her and acting protective. Imagine that. Xavier's dream coming true right under his nose. Humans and Mutants living together in peace. She spies the people in the Foyer, living and not so living and she clears her throat a little. "I heard you came to see me." she says quietly addressing Armand.
Paul remains quiet, but does stand behind her examining the area in case he needs to make a hasty escape. He glances from Armand to the other female, he bows his head slightly and returns his attention to Armand.
Lisabeth looks to the newcomers, and smiles. There's vague recollection of Hope's features. She'd seen her around campus before. NYU. And she smiles a bit more and nods to her and her trailing companion as they enter from the Kitchen, her laughter at Warren's 'joke' abated very nearly. And to Armand she looks, unable to look away for just one moment. He's so very pretty. The hair catches the light and shines. But then she does drag her eyes toward Hope and whispers, "Hi." That could go to both of the new entrants.
Armand lets out a slight short sigh, uncertain what to say to the girl at first, as he turns his face to the floor. He glances up to Hope again though, and finds his words, "I came to see you, yes. To see if you had recovered your memories, but ... until you do, I know what I am to you. I know that you fear - and maybe, in a way, this is better for you. Though I would never seek to bring you or your friends any harm, I know that the world that follows me is horror. In my hubris, I thought that I could overcome some part of myself and find a way to be among the living without bringing that with me. I have seen it overtake every one of those I tried to love." He shakes his head miserably, and in a whisper he admits... "I should go. Every minute I am here is another nail in your fate. I... I should go." He turns to the door.
Lissa watches the exchange, uncertain what Armand's words may imply or if he's being 'goth-like' with the brooding sorrow that tends to cling to them. Weary as she is, she doesn't step forward to stay Armand with words. Instead, she whispers, "Goodnight..." Another night she may have tried to stop him, but her energy level after earlier-day healing is not quite what it should be.
A furtive glance is shot over to Lissa and Hope does the finger waggle in hello to her, smiling a little awkwardly. But what is this he is saying? Love? What was Larson saying about her having been in love with someone else. She rushes forward as he heads to the door. "Wait. What...I mean.." she comes to a stop a few feet from him. "I met someone here who knew..knows me. They said I was in love. WHo...do you know who it was?" she asks. There is an almost pleading look in her eyes.
Paul narrows his eyes as he takes a step towards Hope. Damn woman, if something goes wrong, he won't be able to do anything without almost killing himself. He sighs and mentally shrugs, if it comes to that, he might as well make his life worth while. He glances at Lissa and smiles to himself, a small black tendril slithers away from her shadow and forms itself into a rose that floats up to her.
Armand takes in a long breath and looks to Hope's bright face. He can't answer. How can he answer? Were you in love with me, Hope? His eyes close in agony, and he turns his face before the stain of his tears can stream from his eyes. Love me! -his spirit's silent cry! "Love someone... who is alive." And he seems to disappear then, in a flash of broken images that shudder after him. He is gone- too fast to change his mind.
The shadowrose distracts Lissa, as it's surprising. Strange, but very surprising. She's not sure where it's coming from, and the spike of unpleasant emotions from above was also serving as distraction. Someone is very unhappy right now upstairs. But for the moment, she can't do anything for that person. Doesn't even know who it is. A hesitant smile at the display of 'shadow magic' and she glances toward the people in the room. The one smiling at her is Paul. Maybe it's an assumption, but she smiles back a bit more as she bites her lip in trying to stifle a sudden yawn...eyes watering a bit behind their twin glass lenses. "It's lovely." The whisper is directed toward him. Watching Hope try to follow Armand, is like watching some tragic soap opera moment...but there's no music accompanying. It's a moment that would require the watchers to 'stay tuned for tomorrow's show'. Would Hope remember her lost love? Will Armand shake the deeply biting turmoil within him?
Paul bows his head slightly at Lissa, the rose pulses once, then explodes in a shower of tiny butterflies as they flutter and flap around her, angling for her shadow where they reform. He glances at Hope, who is apparently lost in her own thoughts he walks slowly towards Lissa, giving her enough to turn, walk away or what not if she doesn't want to talk.
