Lydia and Harley, Backdated to May 17
May. 17th, 2013 05:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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om_mainAfter her parents formally end her career against her will, Harley is trying to outrun her emotions - in the mansion hallways - and interrupts Lydia, who makes her stop. ...briefly.
Lydia was working on her numbers in her usual sun room spot when she heard the disturbing thumping--accompanied by a male voice shouting, "What the hell, Harley?!" in the hall. She glanced towards the door, wondering if there was someone who was going to need transported down to medical, but couldn't see anything. Sighing, she set aside her keypad and stood, then poked her head out into the hallway.
Ponytail boy, Ricochet, was stumbling to his feet and around the corner. And the tiny blonde girl, Vault, was already on her feet--if she'd ever been off them.
Harley had been off her feet, but only for the half-second it took to convert her fall into a backwards roll that had her up and running again. Running where? It didn't matter, she just couldn't stop. She was an absolute mess, hair flying everywhere and hands still dirty from tearing at the grass down by the lake; she couldn't tell anymore if she was crying or not. If she stopped moving, she'd have to think and feel and no, she was dodging around Sokka, around a corner and down a hall.
She skidded to a stop when she saw the girl's face at the door. Harley wanted to turn the other way and run, but there was nothing back there but an angry Sokka and the way she had come. Entirely unsure what to do next, Harley froze and stared at the other girl with something like terror.
Lydia raised her eyebrows and stepped out into the hall. The girl looked absolutely frightful... and frightened. "Did you just knock pony-tail boy over, or did he knock you over?" Because if so, Ricochet was going to have some answering to do.
Harley wasn't sure what the right answer was, for any number of reasons. "I was running," she said evasively. Maybe Lydia would let her go?
Right, obviously, but, "Are you in a hurry to get somewhere?" Which might have seemed like a stupid question, but something about the girl struck Lydia as very, very off right then.
"Uh..." Harley was in a hurry to get anywhere. Her breathing was fast and shallow, and she kept her hands ready at her sides for she didn't even know what - attack? a tumble? Lydia's look made her feel like a cornered animal. She threw a quick glance behind her, wondering if Sokka had moved far enough that she could backtrack without getting yelled at, but brought her eyes right back to the other girl. "There's, uh... I just gotta..."
"Deep breath," Lydia said slowly, holding up one hand. Her expression was still a little confused, but it softened a touch. "Are you running away from something, or towards it? And do you need help?"
Harley took a deep breath like she was told, and then another because things came into better focus. A hallway she'd never been in, a girl she'd never spoken to (but recognized from the dorms at least).
"I dunno," she answered weakly. Already she could feel her emotions catching up, and that was bad. She bounced anxiously on the spot, eager to be gone again.
Lydia raised her eyebrows. Something about the girl was making her... uncomfortable, now. She couldn't put her finger on it. She wasn't sure she wanted to. "I'm assuming that was an answer to both questions. Either way, keep breathing. And stop running. You're lucky you didn't hurt yourself bouncing off that boy." Ricochet was far from the largest boy on campus, and he was a little lanky on top of that, but compared to tiny girl here he was a giant.
"Sokka didn't hurt me, I rolled," Harley said, like that made any sense. How could she explain what she was running from? But she didn't take off - it wasn't in her nature to disobey a direct command like that - and stood unmoving, still tensely watching Lydia. "Running makes it stop, I need to..."
"You. Rolled." One eyebrow stayed up, the other descended, and Lydia cocked her head slightly. "To stop something?"
Harley nodded, hoping that would answer Lydia's questions. She was definitely crying now, could feel the tears stinging at her eyes and slipping off her chin. What did Lydia want? That huge swell of loss and grief was catching up and threatening to overwhelm her, and this girl was trying to have a conversation.
Lydia had no idea what to do with this creature. She was obviously having a panic attack of some kind--which was probably what was causing Lydia to feel sick herself, come to think of it, but what was there to do? She stepped fully into the hallway. "Consider running to the medlab?"
Harley shook her head fiercely, messy hair flying. There would be people there - Simon or Josh or Dr. MacTaggart or all of them - and Harley didn't want them. They'd try to help her or fix her, but she wasn't her anymore, and they wouldn't understand, and Simon would tell River, and she couldn't deal with River right now...
"They can't fix me," she said defensively, voice shaking and shrill as she raised it. "They can't fix any of it!"
"Go there anyway," Lydia said with a pointed look.
Harley glared back. That sounded like something her father would say, and never in her life had she been so desperately angry at him as she was today. "No!"
Lydia made a face. "What are you, seven years old?"
"No..." Harley muttered, anger crumbling back into confused fear again. The instinct to bolt returned, and she glanced over her shoulder. Much as she wanted to keep going forward, backtracking looked safer at this point.
Well, at least she wasn't making Lydia horribly uncomfortable anymore. Only mostly uncomfortable. "You look like a deer in headlights. I have some experience with it. Go. To the. Medlab."
Unfortunately, Lydia's powers didn't equip her to make people do things like that, or she might consider it.
Remembering her (literal) collision with Damon, Harley felt a pang of actual panic at the command. She yelled "You can't make me!" as a warning rather than a bratty comeback. Taking a couple steps backward, she added more quietly, "It's not allowed, you can't..."
Lydia pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, leveling her meanest of mean girl looks. Obviously traditional weapons were her only recourse. "Even if it was, I couldn't. That doesn't mean you shouldn't do it on your own. Since it would be the intelligent thing to do."
Why she was even bothering, she didn't know, except... that deer in the headlights look...
The look Lydia gave her was paralyzing, but only for a second. Before she'd even finished speaking, Harley gave a quick twist and was sprinting back down the hall without another word. It felt wrong to go back, like she was running towards the storm instead of away, but just moving helped her breathe - and leaving Lydia behind certainly didn't hurt, either.
Lydia was working on her numbers in her usual sun room spot when she heard the disturbing thumping--accompanied by a male voice shouting, "What the hell, Harley?!" in the hall. She glanced towards the door, wondering if there was someone who was going to need transported down to medical, but couldn't see anything. Sighing, she set aside her keypad and stood, then poked her head out into the hallway.
Ponytail boy, Ricochet, was stumbling to his feet and around the corner. And the tiny blonde girl, Vault, was already on her feet--if she'd ever been off them.
Harley had been off her feet, but only for the half-second it took to convert her fall into a backwards roll that had her up and running again. Running where? It didn't matter, she just couldn't stop. She was an absolute mess, hair flying everywhere and hands still dirty from tearing at the grass down by the lake; she couldn't tell anymore if she was crying or not. If she stopped moving, she'd have to think and feel and no, she was dodging around Sokka, around a corner and down a hall.
She skidded to a stop when she saw the girl's face at the door. Harley wanted to turn the other way and run, but there was nothing back there but an angry Sokka and the way she had come. Entirely unsure what to do next, Harley froze and stared at the other girl with something like terror.
Lydia raised her eyebrows and stepped out into the hall. The girl looked absolutely frightful... and frightened. "Did you just knock pony-tail boy over, or did he knock you over?" Because if so, Ricochet was going to have some answering to do.
Harley wasn't sure what the right answer was, for any number of reasons. "I was running," she said evasively. Maybe Lydia would let her go?
Right, obviously, but, "Are you in a hurry to get somewhere?" Which might have seemed like a stupid question, but something about the girl struck Lydia as very, very off right then.
"Uh..." Harley was in a hurry to get anywhere. Her breathing was fast and shallow, and she kept her hands ready at her sides for she didn't even know what - attack? a tumble? Lydia's look made her feel like a cornered animal. She threw a quick glance behind her, wondering if Sokka had moved far enough that she could backtrack without getting yelled at, but brought her eyes right back to the other girl. "There's, uh... I just gotta..."
"Deep breath," Lydia said slowly, holding up one hand. Her expression was still a little confused, but it softened a touch. "Are you running away from something, or towards it? And do you need help?"
Harley took a deep breath like she was told, and then another because things came into better focus. A hallway she'd never been in, a girl she'd never spoken to (but recognized from the dorms at least).
"I dunno," she answered weakly. Already she could feel her emotions catching up, and that was bad. She bounced anxiously on the spot, eager to be gone again.
Lydia raised her eyebrows. Something about the girl was making her... uncomfortable, now. She couldn't put her finger on it. She wasn't sure she wanted to. "I'm assuming that was an answer to both questions. Either way, keep breathing. And stop running. You're lucky you didn't hurt yourself bouncing off that boy." Ricochet was far from the largest boy on campus, and he was a little lanky on top of that, but compared to tiny girl here he was a giant.
"Sokka didn't hurt me, I rolled," Harley said, like that made any sense. How could she explain what she was running from? But she didn't take off - it wasn't in her nature to disobey a direct command like that - and stood unmoving, still tensely watching Lydia. "Running makes it stop, I need to..."
"You. Rolled." One eyebrow stayed up, the other descended, and Lydia cocked her head slightly. "To stop something?"
Harley nodded, hoping that would answer Lydia's questions. She was definitely crying now, could feel the tears stinging at her eyes and slipping off her chin. What did Lydia want? That huge swell of loss and grief was catching up and threatening to overwhelm her, and this girl was trying to have a conversation.
Lydia had no idea what to do with this creature. She was obviously having a panic attack of some kind--which was probably what was causing Lydia to feel sick herself, come to think of it, but what was there to do? She stepped fully into the hallway. "Consider running to the medlab?"
Harley shook her head fiercely, messy hair flying. There would be people there - Simon or Josh or Dr. MacTaggart or all of them - and Harley didn't want them. They'd try to help her or fix her, but she wasn't her anymore, and they wouldn't understand, and Simon would tell River, and she couldn't deal with River right now...
"They can't fix me," she said defensively, voice shaking and shrill as she raised it. "They can't fix any of it!"
"Go there anyway," Lydia said with a pointed look.
Harley glared back. That sounded like something her father would say, and never in her life had she been so desperately angry at him as she was today. "No!"
Lydia made a face. "What are you, seven years old?"
"No..." Harley muttered, anger crumbling back into confused fear again. The instinct to bolt returned, and she glanced over her shoulder. Much as she wanted to keep going forward, backtracking looked safer at this point.
Well, at least she wasn't making Lydia horribly uncomfortable anymore. Only mostly uncomfortable. "You look like a deer in headlights. I have some experience with it. Go. To the. Medlab."
Unfortunately, Lydia's powers didn't equip her to make people do things like that, or she might consider it.
Remembering her (literal) collision with Damon, Harley felt a pang of actual panic at the command. She yelled "You can't make me!" as a warning rather than a bratty comeback. Taking a couple steps backward, she added more quietly, "It's not allowed, you can't..."
Lydia pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, leveling her meanest of mean girl looks. Obviously traditional weapons were her only recourse. "Even if it was, I couldn't. That doesn't mean you shouldn't do it on your own. Since it would be the intelligent thing to do."
Why she was even bothering, she didn't know, except... that deer in the headlights look...
The look Lydia gave her was paralyzing, but only for a second. Before she'd even finished speaking, Harley gave a quick twist and was sprinting back down the hall without another word. It felt wrong to go back, like she was running towards the storm instead of away, but just moving helped her breathe - and leaving Lydia behind certainly didn't hurt, either.
