(Untitled)

[carefulwishes]

It's Claire's homecoming. Eden has her assignment: to capture Sylar. ("When the time is right, neutralize him." Neutralize. Eden hates that word - could do more than that word, with just a whisper - but she has her orders

Comments

[berryberryraz]

"What's up, babe?" Raz is outside wandering aimlessly. She grins cheerily at Eden. "Somethin' fucking with you?"

[carefulwishes]

"Had to be a fucking bar at the end of the universe," Eden says, in a tone that the word 'frustrated' was made for.

[berryberryraz]

"Aww. C'mon, you want a milkshake or something?" Raz gives Eden a hug. For once in her life, she manages to restrain herself from groping. And, bonus, doesn't leak any either.

[carefulwishes]

Eden blinks, expression startled. It takes a moment for her to remember that she's supposed to hug back. Hers is quick. She does not want to feel good, damnit! She wants to brood some more!

One of the benefits of maturity is that she can recognize that this does her no good. Eden tends to be deliberately immature - she knows this serves no purpose, but indulges in it anyway.

"I'm not going in there," she grumbles.

[_mother_dearest]

As was Lyrae's habit, she was outside practicing her sword skills. Pausing momentarily as she watched Eden walk out, she tilted her head to one side, studying her curiously--though Lyrae said nothing.

[carefulwishes]

Eden strides about the lakeside, hugging herself. When she sees Lyrae, the stride - which was long and fast, a way to walk out her frustration - slows to more of a walk.

Which leads in Lyrae's direction. She manages to move her left hand from its position clutching her right elbow and raise it in a wave - only to bring it back to its former position.

Eden knows a lot about what body-language says. She just doesn't care what hers is saying right now.

[_mother_dearest]

Observing for a moment--Then, Lyrae spoke, her voice as calm and cool as ever, but tinged with a soft, maternal air belying her youthful appearance.

"Are you hurt, Child?"

[carefulwishes]

There's a shrug in response.

"Who doesn't feel like they have the world on their shoulders, some days?" she comments, a bite of something sharp and brittle in her tone. She's ashamed of feeling this way - feeling caring, weak, frustrated, terrified - as useless as she knows being ashamed is.