entrancelogs | ( open ) but do not tell me all is fine

Entry tags:

( open ) but do not tell me all is fine

Who: Ellie and YOU
Where: All over the mansion and then the beach
When: Post-event
Rating: PG-13 for language and likely talk of violence
Summary: Once everyone vanishes, she realizes that Wonderland can be just as unkind as her own world.
The Story:

[ A new day dawns and they're gone. They're all gone. Ellie scrambles to look around her room, but the only thing remaining of Tess, Joel, and Riley are a dirty coffee cup and a series of punny messages sent to Ellie's device. She doesn't - can't - believe it, and so she searches everywhere (everywhere), climbing to the top of the mansion in the attic and on the roof and then down to the first floor and basement. Then, of course, the grounds, though as soon as she leaves she remembers the second mansion and heads that way.

It's vanished. Not a good sign, but she doesn't stop.

Then, the grounds. She ducks through the trees in the woods and runs along the beach, looks in the stables and through the gardens.

When she returns inside it's dark and she's both filthy and exhausted.

She doesn't stop. Ellie begins her renewed search by putting her fist into one of the mirrors in the mansion's entrance hall and comes away with a bloody hand and nothing else. It's the beginning of her perhaps childish revenge, because anger is easier than acceptance and she is wild with spiteful energy. She ducks into a hallway and stops short upon seeing one of Wonderland's featured art pieces... but doesn't hover for long. Her pocket knife tears into the material, shredding it as much as she can before storming ahead. Into the kitchen, then, where she thoughtlessly tears open the cabinet... only to find it offering her fresh coffee beans and china.

All that goes, spilled out with an angry cry across the floor, smashing into pieces. She's gone again as the mess settles.

Her room, finally, for no reason except that her feet lead her there. Ellie opens the door and sees the gift bag, one she hadn't noticed that morning in her focused hunt. She doesn't get beyond the card before she snatches it all up, anger renewed, and flees the mansion for the second time that day. When she makes it to the beach, she flings the entire bag as far as she can into the water and then sits, defeated, on the sand. ]

Fuck. [ And she buries her face in her hands. ]

( ooc ; feel free to encounter her at any stage in the bolded locations! )

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[ The last time she'd seen Cullen, he hadn't been himself, exactly. That's why there's a startled expression as she scurries backward, hand already flying to her hip -

... But, the glass has returned (obviously). The Mirrors have been drawn back to their gray scale home. Ellie lowers her arms, indifferent to the wound on her knuckles, however much it burns.

He isn't smirking and red and she's safe, however unhappy. Here's one person who hasn't disappeared, anyway. ]

Nothing. [ The reply is automatic, but then she sighs, knowing he'll probably press for the truth. ] Punched a mirror.

[ Lowercase 'm,' though he might not be able to suss that out. She deflates further, amending: ] The glass, not... one of the people.

[ If they could even be called that. Ellie eyes Cullen warily, wondering: did he run into that guy, too? ]

[ Her reaction hardly goes unnoticed. Cullen holds it in his mind, until he knows what to do with it. Nearly shows a similar one, too, when his finger twitches for-- Lowercase m. No need to go for his sword. Gone. They're gone. For now. Cullen exhales slowly. That-- Makes less sense then. He quirks his brow. ]

That's not a common training exercise for a reason,

[ he replies flatly, and looks down at her injury. At least the extent of it is one thing that doesn't particularly concern him. Still... ]

I'm no healer, but I can fix that much. [ He looks past her again, this time with emphasis at the double doors she pointedly didn't decide to stop at. ] Since you weren't going to trouble the clinic with it.

I can do it. [ If she even tends to it at all. Ellie curls her injured hand into the other one and it sticks, tacky with blood once she withdraws it again. ] Don't worry about me.

[ There's always a chance he'll see the old bite that isn't very far up on her forearm, too, and she doesn't want that. Michonne and Dipper are the only ones who know, and even that makes her... antsy. ]

You can go back to whatever you were doing. [ As if he needs permission. ... Though, she doesn't quite move, doesn't push past him to go on her way just yet. ] If you're... patrolling the hallways, looking for wrongdoers.

[ ... ]

I won't punch anything else, alright?

I don't doubt that you can. [ But that she will? It's not the state of her hand that gives him pause. Cullen pushes open the door to his room. ] It will only take a moment.

[ This is as far as his insistence will go, though admittedly he hopes that her refusal won't go further. ]

Patrols may not be such a bad idea. [ Not if even half of what supposedly went down during the last event is true. She doesn't mean it, he knows. Cullen shakes his head, all the same. ] Actually I'd hoped I might still be able to find- someone from my world. I've done as much as I can for tonight, I don't imagine he's here any longer.

[ It makes her think of Joel. Of Joel, who would tell her to not be stupid, that she could get an infection. Speaking of. Ellie swallows, very aware of the marred skin on her arm, and debates the merits of just heading off now and refusing the help outright.

She might have, it it weren't for what he says after. Ellie freezes, eyes widening slightly, almost in wonder at the similarity. ]

... Alright. [ Defeated momentarily, she enters his room and folds back her sleeve just enough to give him access to her hand without revealing the mark. ] I, um... I was doing the same thing. Looking for people.

[ He can guess how well that went, considering the circumstances. ]

Was he a friend of yours? [ She asks curiously. ]

[ His room has changed since the last time she saw it, most notably in that it finally looks like somebody's room at all, a desk and bookshelves having, among other things, added some minimum amount of a personal touch.

Cullen follows her inside, and quickly fetches the necessary supplies from the closet. He kneels, pulls off his gloves, and examines her hands for any leftover pieces of glass. ]

No luck either, I take it. I'm sorry.

[ So much for the origin of that injury. Cullen starts to clean the wound, and almost forgets that he owes her an answer. ]

He was-- [ He was, but that would be a stretch, wouldn't it? He was not, but shouldn't his departure come with more indifference then? Maker, Jowan, but you tried. ] --better off here, than he will be at home.

So were they.

[ Tess and Riley had died. Joel... though alive, somehow, was still in that world. Her world, their world. Not one anyone should have to return to.

Ellie notices that he doesn't really answer her question, but she also doesn't press. ]

I heard that that happens, the... people just disappearing, but... I didn't know it could happen like that. All at once. [ She pauses, thinks, adds: ] The other mansion's gone, too. Guess I shouldn't be surprised, with how this place is.

[ Her tone and expression suggest that she cares very little for the status of the second mansion at the moment. The vanishing of her friends, though... is another story. One he'd read in her bloody knuckles. ]

Two of my- [ Well. No sense in the distinction there. ] -good friends disappeared at the same time, not too long ago. For a short while I thought perhaps they'd found some means to escape on their own. It... was a more comforting thought.

[ Cullen dabs his fingers into a small vat of ointment, and cautiously begins to spread it on her wound. He shakes his head. ]

This is not a kind place. Not to the ones who want to leave, nor the ones who wish to stay. Whatever its benefits or comforts, it takes choices we deserve to make. Little it does can make up for that.

[ Nothing, he should have said, but in the moment he doesn't find that edge. ]

It could be worse. I'd rather be here.

[ It's stubbornly put, drawn out of her by a flare of indignant anger that isn't meant for Cullen. It could be worse: a a world full of monsters, infected or otherwise. A world of sickness and death, vicious chaos and militant control. A world where a parasite can take your mind and body, or where people who are still human murder innocents for their shoes.

Not for the first time this week, she thinks of the burning restaurant. The gleam of a machete. A drawling, too-fervent voice calling out to her. Her hand shakes in his. ]

I don't want to go back there. [ Ellie finds herself admitting, sounding momentarily younger. ] They shouldn't have had to go, either.

[ Who decides who goes and who stays? Shit, if she could return to their world and give Riley a chance at life, she'd do it in a second. ]

You mentioned.

[ Cullen still remembers. He still disagrees. This is not the time to press that point. This- should be the time for words of comfort, which come no easier to this sort of loss than any other.

I hope they return, he tries in his mind, and can't bring himself to wish that victory on this world, not even for her sake. He binds her fingers, as loosely as the bandaging will allow. ]

For what little it's worth, you-- [ Cullen slips black her sleeve, to give the bandaging a better hold. He frowns. ] Is that new?

[ She's prepared to argue, because she's in that kind of mood, but it's also that clouding loss that prevents her from getting her arm back in time. He pushes up the fabric and the bite is clear: angry and still raw-looking. ]

Hey! [ Ellie yanks her arm out of his grasp, expression clouding. Again, she hears Joel clearly, but this time it's a memory: "don't tell anybody about your condition. They'll think you're crazy or they'll try to kill you." True, this world is different, and two people already knew, but... ]

No, it's - It's fine, forget about it. [ The sleeve is down again and the bandaging isn't finished, but she doesn't seem as if she's going to offer her hand to him a second time.

No, the bite, now, is over a year and a half old, in Wonderland time. Despite that, of course, it looks nearly as it had just weeks after getting it. It hasn't worsened. It hasn't improved. ]

[ He bites back the impulse that wants to stop her hand. Flashes of misplaced habit well from her expression, robe sleeves forcibly rolled up for inspection, to check for cuts underneath. Cullen shakes off the thoughts that don't belong, but something of the insistence still clings. New. Welts, like- burns? Boils? She pulled away too quickly.

Cullen turns his palm, and holds it open flat. He meets her look sternly. ]

Show me.

No.

[ Ellie stares hard back at him, fierce and challenging. Fuck, and - the memories keep coming, encouraged more now than ever with having had Joel, Tess, and Riley around for a week. This reminds her of standing by as Joel had demanded the same of Tess - 'show it to me' - and she'd revealed the nasty bite at her shoulder. A death sentence.

This is different. It's different. She isn't dying and he isn't - ]

It's nothing. [ Comes the flat insistence. She's conflicted; he's a friend, really, and she knows he means well, but the bite isn't like her bloodied hand. It's a reminder of where she'd come from, of how far she (they) still have to go. It's a stigma.

He might not understand.

All the same, she doesn't flee the room. She stands her ground, eyes blazing. ]

Clearly.

[ Quite the effort she puts into not showing him nothing again. It's not his responsibility to find out, he tries, and finds the thought lacking. So, what did he see?

First, not nothing. Second, something worse than admitting she punched a mirror with her bare hands. In what way he can't yet say. Cullen considers. All right. He clenches his palm into a fist, and lets it rest on his knee. He can do with two questions.

First: ]

Does it need treatment?

[ He doesn't press. He doesn't grab for the arm. Ellie hovers, still debating just up and leaving, but... staying. For now. ]

No. [ The treatment had almost been suicide, though luckily she and Riley had opted for the stupid route. Briefly, the word 'treatment' makes her think of the Fireflies; will they be content to just look over her arm, or are they going to have to take a skin graft, or something? She makes a face just thinking about it. ]

It's old. [ She confirms again. ] Just old scars.

[ It isn't a lie, not technically. ]

[ He frowns. Part disbelief, part-- Old scars are an entirely different matter. Did he really misjudge the sight so badly? The pale remains of a cut on his back itch, reproachfully.

It settles question number two. Technically. Still: ]

Old? It's nothing anyone here did to you?

No. [ She says a third time. ] It's from before I even got here.

[ That should stop him worrying, right? Even if it doesn't stop him wondering.

Ellie heaves a sigh. ]

Look, it's from... almost two years ago, it's just a scar now, and it's not dangerous at all. Okay?

[ If he saw it, would he believe her? Would he take her word for it that she wasn't about to turn?

Her mind scrambles. She needs something to divert his attention. ]

[ She isn't lying, he doesn't think. The disbelief fades. The frown takes a moment- a frustrating moment, because alarm bells are difficult to unring. It's not dangerous to her. It's no one dangerous to anyone. Not quite. Again. Not dangerous to her. No one dangerous to anyone. There. Good enough.

When his concern finally grows quiet he is left with a heavy exhale. ]

All right. [ Part disbelief gone. Part remorse still lingering. Old scars are an entirely different matter. ] I'm sorry. It's none of my business. I won't bring it up again.

[ A beat. Cullen doesn't raise his arm yet. ]

Will you give me your hand again? I'd like to finish the bandaging. You can keep your sleeve down as far as you need, I won't touch it, I promise.

[ Does she believe him? Ellie looks suspiciously into his face, but... wavering. She wants to believe him, wants to be able to trust people here. It's not like he's going to - and then the phrase kill me enters her brain, unbidden, and for a moment she imagines his eyes are red.

She takes a breath. ]

Sure. [ Gingerly, she offers the affected hand again, confirming that her sleeve is down past the bite.

Her wandering gaze finds the red cloth that covers (she assumes) a mirror. Jesus. It's everywhere. ]

Did you pick that color to make it... ironic?

[ Neither her expression or tone indicate any amusement as she eyes the fabric. ]

[ Cullen nods. ]

Thank you.

[ He reaches for the loose bandage, and unravels it a little ways, just enough to wrap it neatly again. He doesn't move the sleeve, this time. Occupied with the finishing touch he only glances back absently, to the cloth he retrieved from his wardrobe earlier today. ]

What? I just needed a sheet to cover--

[ Red.

Cullen pulls back his hands abruptly. ]

You saw him.

[ Why hadn't she just brought this up before to distract from the bite? Man. It's not that she wants to cause him any... anguish, or anything, but it totally would've worked. ]

Yup. [ Meanwhile, she keeps her hand out, patiently waiting for the all-clear. ] More than that. I kind of, uh. Pissed him off.

[ But, since she wasn't left in pieces at his door, he can assume that it was Fine, right?

There's a pause. ]

He's kind of a drama queen.

He's a monster.

[ Not even a beat. No other word for- something so barely even human anymore. And entirely too many words in his mind to wonder, not for the first time, how much of it the red lyrium twisted, and how much was always there.

Cullen stares down at her hand, a bandage, disconnected from why she would hold it out at him. He hears himself speak. ]

How did you get away?

[ She had to, didn't she? Maker, please.

Cullen stares down at her hand. A bandage. He blinks. --Ah. ]

...It's done.

[ Unlike Cullen, Ellie doesn't wonder if she might one day become the silent, wild girl on the other side of the glass. Even without much communication with her Mirror, Ellie knows, somehow, that she won't ever become that person. It's why whatever appears in his expression, that hurt, conflicted flash, is more curious than obvious. ]

I... sorta ran. And then hid. [ Her tone suggests she isn't pleased with it, but she knew - as he must know - that there would be no real way for her to fight him. At least, not alone.

Something occurs to her then, as she withdraws her freshly-bandaged hand, and great concern takes over her features as she stares at him. ]

... He didn't go after you, did he? [ He'd threatened it, as if punishing her from hiding from him, and all she could do was hope it had been an empty claim. ] If he did, then... that's my fault.

Your fault? [ He looks at her incredulously. No, he doesn't even need to ask. ] You did what you had to. The thing he is, it's far too dangerous for anyone to face alone.

[ Said with the stern conviction of somebody who'd never even attempt such a task himself. More than once or twice. Every other day. For all his threats he proved reluctant to show his face again, now that they were on their guard. Cullen shakes his head. ]

He made threats, but he never delivered. I didn't catch sight of him once.

[ He should sound relieved, but then Hawke's body slumps into his arms all over again. Maker, he still wants to end him. ]

Edited 2016-09-15 20:34 (UTC)

Yeah, so, 'anyone' includes you, doesn't it? That guy was nuts; he had a complete hate boner for you and he might've -

[ Killed him. Ellie swallows. ]

Good. [ But, it's hard to imagine the Mirror didn't go after anyone else. ] And... he's gone now. To the other side, at least.

[ For however safe they may be with mere glass between them. She still hears those threats so clearly, promises to pluck out her eyes and deliver her bit by bit to his Real's door.

She decides not to mention that part. ]

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