sirenspull | Another accidental video - re-entry with a new canon point

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Another accidental video - re-entry with a new canon point

[Dirty fingers brush over the NV screen when it switches on, leaving bloody streaks across the screen. The whole video is vibrating; as the fingers move, a view of the Newcomer apartments from the baseball diamond is clearly visible. Whoever is holding the NV is clearly a newcomer and clearly in some kind of trouble.

After a minute, there's a shallow gasp and a moan; the voice is high pitched, obviously a girl's. The NV falls, and goes black; it's camera down in the dirt. But it lasts only a minute. The owner of the voice goes to pick up her NV, gasping in agony as her hand curls around the device. It's obvious why; there's a hole shot clean through her palm and out of the back of her hand.]

Marius? Marius, where are you?

[The voice has a heavy French accent when she speaks, and just for a minute, Eponine's face comes into view. It's dirty and tear stained. Her hair is a mess, greasy and tangled but that is the least of Eponine's concerns. She's forced herself into a sitting position, and one hand she presses to her chest, - a chest which is bleeding profusely. She gasps again, and sinks down onto the ground and out of sight of her NV.Without anything to support her weight, she can't keep herself upright any more. She knows she's dying, and tears wet her cheeks. She feels sick and dizzy and the world - wherever she is, fades in and out. She needs to see him before she dies. Her breathing is getting more and more shallow. She has to ask his forgiveness.]

Mariussss...

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[It's just gone ten o'clock when Hattie and Warsman arrive on the ward, he carrying their bags in one hand and, as gently as though he were carrying a baby, a modest bouquet of flowers in the crook of his other arm. He'd dithered that morning on what to bring her, aside from the necessities; he's heard Robin talk about the symbolism of flowers as though it were another language he were fluent in, but as much as the idea appeals to his sensibilities he's not so elegant himself. If he were Robin Mask, he might have taken the time to carefully pick flowers that said what he wanted to say... but what if he made a mistake? Or gave the wrong impression? Did he even know what he could say at all?

Actually, he's immensely glad that Hattie is with him, and not just because it means that he has company. It means that he doesn't feel quite so self-conscious as they pace the long, white hallways, and that, when they find a nurse, she can do all the talking. He's not entirely convinced they'd have let a seven-foot, masked man in to see their gunshot patient alone.

But even he has to stop as his eyes finally settle on the fragile ghost of a girl inhabiting the bed. She's pale and drawn and thin, and for a sudden, brittle moment he sees his mother's face twinned- but then he shakes the image free and hurries to Eponine's side.]

Eponine... I can't believe...! [He's still shaking his head.] Thank goodness you're alright.

[Honestly, Hattie may come off as a little bit crazy to Warsman. As they had traveled along, she had kept insisting the Eponine should be dead, that she saw the girl die right in her arms after she was shot. Her rambling, naturally, contradicts what everyone had just seen. But instead of clarifying, she then expressed worry that Eponine would never forgive her- And that was part of why she wanted Warsman along; he's a very good mediator-type. Surely he'd do something if Eponine tried to throw her out, right?

Of course!

The good news is, that Hattie was particularly helpful about the flowers and recommended an ensamble of yellow roses, cremones, alstroemeria and daisys as a symbol of sunshine. She also volunteered to carry the flowers so that Warsman could carry the five boxes and four shopping bags that she had brought along. Fair's fair, right?

She stands behind Warsman, but she's at a complete loss for words, and looks so incredibly guilty.]

M'sieur Warsman!

[Eponine's face lights right up. She's absolutely charmed that she has visitors, people who care enough to see her when she's ill. And is that -?]

My Lady! You have come to see me? I cannot clean for now; my hand is too bandaged.

[She smiles sadly] You're both real. It was all real, wasn't it?

[Hattie's story had him thrown for any number of reasons, of course, but he's never been the kind of person to interrupt. He'd stayed quiet and let her tell him how things had played out, how she'd been with Eponine when the bullet had torn through her. How she'd held her. There was a lot to be confused by in that story- the chronology, the time shifts, the discrepancies in deaths- but that's not what stops Warsman first and foremost. What does make him stop and stare is just how deeply it's obviously affected Hattie.

He's no magician. Trying to say something in the short time it took them to get to the hospital would have been futile. But when Hattie had finished what almost seemed to her to be a confession he'd silently, simply, put his hand over hers and left it there for some time.

Seeing Eponine in person only seems to have rattled her all the more- which means that, now that they're in, he's going to have to do some of the talking to start with. Fortunately, it's a little easier to get the words out when Warsman sees Eponine's reaction to their arrival; his eyes soften into a smile immediately and he puts the bags down by the bed so that he can approach her and, a little hesitantly, put a hand on her shoulder.]

This is real right now. At least, I hope it is. [There's a tentative pause and then he sits down by the bed, suddenly feeling very large and ungainly next to the girl's almost ethereal figure.] I don't think anyone's expecting you to clean anything just yet.

[Hattie didn't expect an 'answer', really. She was more speaking aloud, hoping that things would make more sense to her as a result.

It didn't really work.

And it's even more flooring once Eponine addresses her as 'my lady'. Could it be, maybe.. That Eponine had forgotten what had happened? Either way, due to her guilt, she couldn't help but look like she was staring at a ghost. She gave a small, awkward smile in return, then nodded in agreement with Warsman.]

[Eponine does her best to hide her wince as Warsman lays his hand on her shoulder. She aches everywhere.]

Real... I thought I had dreamed it all; I thought Papa had knocked me out. But it all happened? Even...?

[She looks past Warsman to Hattie, trying to understand the lady's behaviour.]

I am not so dirty, you know? They had to clean me whilst they operated. You can come near. Are you cross with me?

[She turns to Warsman, pulling herself up off her pillows with a gasp and a groan, to whisper]

is my lady cross with me?

[Hattie's silence only gets stranger by the second to Warsman: before now it was hard for him to imagine a space occupied by her that wasn't also dominated by her conversation. The fact that she can't even work up a greeting is evidence enough of the burden she's carrying.

But his own insights are informed by their conversation on the way here, and Eponine isn't privy to what's been said already. It's no surprise that she takes things the wrong way, even if it does make him feel awful on Hattie's behalf. That said, his thoughts are dragged away from the matter the second he feels Eponine twitch under his touch- he jerks his hand back quickly, silently berating himself for not being more careful before he answers her question. It feels so strange to be the go-between for once. He's used to being in the middle of rivalries, but not quite like this before.

Hoping Hattie doesn't take it as a sign of rudeness, he drops his own voice to match.] Not at all. I think she's just been worrying about you a lot, Miss Eponine. [Back to "miss" now that the initial wave of relief has passed.

He doesn't want to speak for her, anyway, and so he quickly glances up and speaking normally again. Maybe having a prop will help her find her voice.] Miss Hattie? The flowers...?

[Hattie straightens up suddenly, and the idea that Eponine would believe Hattie finds her filthy- Well, that's true that she's dirty, but that doesn't bother Hattie as much anymore. She shakes her head quickly in response to being cross. She then nods quickly in agreement to being worried. It was embarrassing not to say it herself but that's certainly Hattie for you.

Thankfully she catches on to the flowers ice breaker.]

Y- yes! These are for you.. I picked them out, but Warsman actually bought them. They're roses and such, and as you can see they're all yellow. I figured they would brighten up an otherwise rather dingy and lethargic room..

[ She looks around a moment to find a place to set them down, when she suddenly raises a hand to her mouth and tears trickle down her cheek.]

M- Much like.. You do..

[Eponine looks a bit happier when Warsman speaks, and she laughs]

Just 'Ponine, M'sieur. I am not a 'miss' or a lady and I never will be now.

[Eponine looks initially relieved when Hattie speaks - until Hattie starts crying. Eponine just looks at her in complete alarm.]

Madame - you're crying? Why do you cry? I am sorry, you know, about the shop. I should not have let him see me; did he hurt you - but...no. Did you hit him? I couldn't...

[She runs a hand through her hair, before cradling her forehead. Thinking back hurt. She had died there, she knew, and it had felt exactly the same in Paris, shot yet again at point blank range.]

Were you safe? Did you go back to the inn we found?

[Any relief at getting a word or two out of Hattie is short lived. Warsman's head jerks up as he catches her voice breaking and can only stare for a moment: today really is a day for firsts, isn't it? Seeing Hattie shy, seeing her at a loss for words, and now seeing her cry.

It tugs on him in a forlorn sort of way and he can't help but get up and pad over to her, leaving the bags by Eponine's bedside. This isn't his conversation to interrupt, he can sense that, but he at least wants to make sure Hattie doesn't feel abandoned to it. Staying silent, he hesitantly splays his fingers over her back instead- it might have been a clumsy move with Eponine, but she's perfectly well and more than a little in need of support.]

Why are you apologizing to me? [Hattie doesn't draw away from Warsman's touch, she confused for a moment, then shakes her head.] You're ridiculous, you know that? I should have paid closer attention; if I had moved just a little faster.. You wouldn't have died, Eponine. It was my fault, everything.

[Hattie sniffles, Warsman's touch seeming to, at least, keep her from bursting into tears, but she still pauses to try to keep her emotions under control.]

I.. Was fine, I did go there. I stayed there for a while. I didn't realize how important you were to me until you were gone. [she shakes her head.]

I failed so horribly, and yet you greet me with a smile when I arrived today, as if you had forgiven me.. I don't know. My heart couldn't take it.

...

If you'd have me back, Eponine, I'd keep my promises to you. I'll be your sister.

[She shrugs and immediately winces] Madame, I let you down. I - It was not your fault that a man shot me.

[She closes her eyes, remembering the insults he had thrown at her. They don't make her cry; she's had worse,far worse. But the bullet entering her chest, making it hard to breathe, the taste of blood, the panic on Hattie's face as she lay dying in her Mistress' arms - that made Eponine cry. And it had been so closely replicated, only a day later as far as Eponine was concerned, when she took the bullet for Marius.]

I am glad you were safe, Madame. I -

[And then she stops once more as she listens open mouthed to Hattie. She's important to Hattie? Hattie thinks she failed? And Hattie wants her to be a SISTER?

Eponine doesn't quite know how to react. She wishes she was the fainting sort - but she isn't. So she stares, open mouthed and sobbing freely at Hattie. She's in complete and utter shock for the first time in her life. She wants to tell Hattie that there's nothing to forgive, that -sister?WHY? Why does Hattie want her for this?Eponine? A sister to a grand lady? No - no, that she cannot process yet.]

[Warsman can feel how tense Hattie is even through her shoulder, all just from the effort of holding herself in. Hearing the context again, echoed from both sides now, he can't blame her; the situation isn't emotionally charged so much as it is explosive, and it's all he can do to stay blank-masked and silent in the face of it. The longer they talk, the stronger the aching tug in his chest gets, choking him up a little. If he had to speak, he's not sure if he could really string together a coherent sentence.

And things can only get worse from here on in- because one moment Eponine is staring, mouth hanging, and then suddenly there are tears rolling thickly down her cheeks and Warsman has no idea where to place himself. What he'd like to do is comfort Eponine, but that would mean taking his hand away from Hattie, and he definitely can't leave her now.

But as he thinks about it, he finds himself falling on one possible solution. It'd leave him empty, of course, but... well, he's not important right now.

Gently but forcefully, Warsman uses the hand on her shoulder to steer Hattie towards Eponine's bed. Hopefully she'll figure out the rest on her own.]

Perhaps it isn't.. But still..

[But that one time when Eponine chided her for being the older one and being so irresponsible really hit home; it was all she could think about the following few days. She's quiet again as Eponine seems to be pulling her thoughts together, and with Warsman's guidance Hattie finds herself leaning forward a bit- Following the nudge, the rest is much easier, and she very very carefully, slips her arms about Eponine to give her a hug and tears continue to trickle down her cheeks. She really doesn't like looking vulnerable, but she trusts the two here that her state won't leave the room.

Ever.]

I'm so glad you're alive, Eponine. So so so glad.

Edited 2013-01-14 22:00 (UTC)

[Eponine tenses as Hattie hugs her. Nobody has hugged her in such a long time. And it hurts - emotionally and physically - but she's not letting onto that fact, besides the automatic tensing.

She's crying too, and now their tears mingle. Eponine's world - both of them have collapsed. She's lost Marius' love - she knows if she goes back to Paris, she'll die, and Yosuke had told her that she had lost her money, her house, her few possessions, AND was working for a gun wielding thug. But now, here is Hattie, like a guardian angel, offering her light at the end of a black tunnel. She tries her best to hug back, but it's one handed, and Hattie will feel the plasic clip snipped on the end of Eponine's finger to measure her pulse pressed into her back.]

Madame, you will have me, really, as a sister? Do not tell me now if you won't - do not let me think, even if I am hurt. You would break my heart harder than if you say, 'Eponine, you must scrub the floor every day till you die. And no more ice cream.' I do not mind if that is what you want - but truly, Madame, you would be cruel to give me such hope to be your sister when I am to just scrub a floor and have five jobs again. I could not - I think that would make my heart shatter again.

[Warsman says nothing; he'd be an invader if he tried, as though if he were to speak he would snap some delicate thread holding the scene in play. What he wants more than anything is for Hattie to agree and for Eponine to feel safe and for things to finish sweetly, but he's holding his breath for the sake of reality. These things take time, and all he can do is hope for the best for both of them. Goodness only knows they both deserve it after all of this, one twice dead and the other forced to bear witness.

But even if he can't comment, he can't stop himself from tuning into the feel of the moment. Tears are infectious. He can feel himself welling up, too, and the thought is so embarrassing (he shouldn't be the one crying, after all) that he swiftly sets about arranging the flowers in a vase presumably left by one of the nurses to occupy himself- and to make sure his back is turned as he surreptitiously dabs at the eyes of his mask.]

[Hattie doesn't complain, she'll take what she can get, but she doesn't hold Eponine for too long for fear of doing some damage. To her question, though, the blonde does smile in return, looking Eponine right in the eyes.]

We'll work out the details later, Eponine. I'm sure there's much the both of us need to do once you're out of the hospital. Besides, I should be asking you if you'd really have me as a sister. You know Ella and I do not get along very well; I can't guarantee there won't be drama between us, but we'll have one another to count on.

[Hattie notices the clip having come off after that, and pales.]

Warsman? Warsman, I think I broke something.

[So not quite 'no more cleaning'. That makes Eponine laugh; she hadn't really expected anything different. But in an odd way, it makes her feel better, more at home, even. It makes her feel normal.]

madame, it is nothing - Warsman - oh, monsieur!

[She smiles over at Warsman, suddenly remembering that he wa there. Even so, she tries to re-attach the clip to her finger, but can't quite manage it because of her sore hand.]

Could you please - it is just a clip. Monsieur, I am sorry. I did not wish to be rude. You come all this way and I cry over my lady. I am sorry. But I am glad you have come. And the flowers - nobody has given me such before. They are lovely. It is worth being shot to get such a welcome!

[She laughs again, her idea of a joke.]

[He's doing his best to stay out of it until he hears his name being spoken. Instinct drives his head up before he's quite ready, scrubbing at one eye only briefly before he drops his hand.]

Broken...? [For a moment Warsman's confused- and slightly concerned that she means broken bones, considering how fragile Eponine seems- but then he gets it.

He's over by the bed in a flash, carefully picking up the clip.] Ah, of course. [Taking her hand in his own much larger one, he gently fumbles the clip back onto the girl's finger.] It's fine- don't worry about me. I'm just glad to see you smiling again. Anyway, Hattie's the one who chose the flowers. I didn't really know what you'd want...

[Hattie doesn't think anything unusual af the eyewiping, probably pollen. If she knew he was sobbing, she'd be very.. Well, not disappointed, but maybe alarmed. But that's neither here nor there. She moves to the side to allow him room. She again goes a little pale at Eponine's joke, and just gives a very awkward laugh in return.]

Well, that's what I'm good at, not to toot my own horn.. Besides you did the hard work, I just gave you a bit of guidance. [She coughs lightly.] And in return you gave me guidance, so.. I believe that makes us even, really.

[It's a bit short of a 'Thank you', isn't it?]

So, Eponine, who was it that brought you here anyway? I believe I should give them proper recognition.

[Eponine has no idea what Hattie's talking about, but she doesn't care. Instead, she answers ferverantly;]

They are beautiful. How was it you knew I like flowers? You will have to teach me, so I am clever too, my lady. and thank you, M'sieur, for helping me.

[She's using Hattie's preferred title; Eponine can't be bothered to fight it any more. There are more important things in life than a title.]

You will not believe this, Madame. It was M'sieur Hitsugaya. When he came, I was sure he would leave me to die, but I could not say it. I was just asking for Marius. But he told me to shut up and did magic on me and then he carried me here.

[It's not quite a 'thank you', no, but it's good enough, particularly considering who it's from. Warsman accepts it as though Hattie had recited a speech in his honour with a warm nod.

He glances back to Eponine as she speaks- thankfully, both of their tears seem to have dried up.]

You're welcome. Though, if you tell me your favourite flower, I won't have to ask Hattie for advice next time.

[He's back to listening quietly as Eponine explains how she ended up being brought here- he's not sure who Hitsugaya is, but it's obvious they don't have a good history and that Hattie does know about it.]

I take it you two don't get along? [He tilts his head.] Sometimes people have hidden depths.

[Well speaking of surprises, Hattie had no idea that Warsman and Eponine were friends. Sure, the Fighting Robot seemed to be able to get along with anyone but she stole his wallet for crying out loud! She's curious about the matter but.. She'll bring that up later, especially with that name brought up. She stares in utter disbelief.]

You're kidding.

... There's no way.

[She glances to Warsman.]

He's the one whom conspired with Ella to have me thrown out of the house.

[She didn't mention him before in her story about getting thrown out, though. She had only said that Ella had arrived with, apparently, an angel then was evicted. Also, for the time being, she doesn't make a fuss about titles.. Even if it does make her smile a tiny bit.]

Frankly, I can't believe it. Are you certain you weren't hallucinating?

No it was he. He has told me enough times to shut up that I know his voice even when I am dying, my lady. He was there - I thought he was Marius at first and he told me no.

[She smiles, though pain is evident in her expression.] He was not there, of course. He will be cross with me when he sees me. If he does. And if not, I have killed him. That is a horrible feeling. Perhaps I am a murderer if he does not get the letter.

[Eponine's trying hard not to cry by keeping a smile fixed on her face and she's shaking with the effort.]

Flowers, m'sieur? Any are lovely - I do not know their names. I don't deserve any though.

[So that's a bad history with Eponine and Hattie? And he knows Ella? Warsman's immediate thought is to leap to their defense on the matter and write Hitsugaya off as a generally unpleasant person, but it's soon tempered by the reminder that Ella's been nothing but friendly and kind to him thus far. With how complex this web of relationships is turning out to be, it might be wise for him to withhold judgement for now- particularly when he hasn't even met the person in question.

Even more so, as it happens, when she brings up "Marius"- the same person whose name she was calling yesterday on the Network. The frown is back in full force, creasing his mask between his eyes. He's still close enough to see Eponine trembling, which already is enough to make him anxious.]

Of course you aren't a murderer, Eponine. There was nothing you could have done. [There's a moment's hesitation- a million and one thoughts seem to cross his eyes- and then he reaches down and places his hand over hers very, very lightly.]

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