214/A Case of Mistaken Hostelry

A Case of Mistaken Hostelry
Date of Scene:	30 April 2017
Location:	Manhattan, New York City
Synopsis:	Lucy finds her way to someplace she has been searching for. Alison is confronted with an ardent fan.
Cast of Characters:	Dazzler, 209

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Dazzler has posed:
With the clock somewhere between 1 and 2 in the morning, Manhattan presents itself to truly be the city that never sleeps. With Lex Luthor's symposium taking place that night, the streets are filled with taxicabs and limousines, clogging up the precious street-like arteries run through the city. Horns are pressed down upon as traffic pinches together, New Yorkers bark rude orders at each other and wave out of their windows. In the end, sometimes, taking the trains or simply walking is the better option.

Wishing her limo driver well, Alison bids the man to find a place to park. The long, black limousine cuts to the curb a short walk from her expensive hotel. A short conversation about safety later and the limo driver is opening her door.

Alison Blaire is out that night as a celebrity. With expensive, tall heels and a shockingly blue dress for springtime parties, she's been made up for the cameras. Long blonde hair, painted lips, and a strappy party dress with a layered hemline, she clutches her purse and slips out of the limo with the driver's help. Clutch-purse in one hand and a Lexcorp gift back in the other, she clacks her heels in a walk down the sidewalks.

It's New York, but she's a powered mutant. The more horns that honk, the less danger she'll be in.

Lucy (209) has posed:
Down the sidewalk in a city that is brightly lit and yet paradoxically seems to have all the more dark corners for it. There are people going in every diretion but at this time of night no one is doing it on foot. Alison is alone, possibly for the first time all day, as long as one can tune out the catcalling and caterwauling of passersby caught at lights while riding in their motorized vehicles.

As Alison is passing the hotel she sees a girl ahead of her standing on the sidewalk. A young woman, really; tiny and slender but with a defined figure and solemn expression. her mode of dress is eyecatching enough- a sky blue blouse with a high folded collar, a pleated daisy yellow skirt, white socks that come up to mid shin, and pink canvas shoes. She has long, straight blonde hair and vivid, expressive blue eyes that are currently locked into a state of thoughtful melancholy. In the girl's hand is a sheet of paper. She carries nothing else.

Lucy looks between the paper and the opulent hotel stretching ahead of her repeatedly, gnawing on her bottom pink lip in frustration as she studies the spectacle in front of her. She shakes her head slowly, tilting the paper slightly as she does so as if to try to make something out. Just what is setled there could only be made clear by a more careful look. She makes no paticular efffort to hide it by the text is fairly small. It's an address. The address of the hotel, a large development that was only actually built here about five years ago but has already become a prime feature of the boulevard.

Finally the girl turns slowly and her eyes alight upon Alison. They widen in marked recognition. Rather than avert her gaze or start squealing, however, Lucia takes a deep breath... And pensively holds out the piece of paer clutched in her left hand like a lifeline.

Dazzler has posed:
There are //rules// in New York City. Once eye contact is made, you're at risk of all of the crazy, strange, and violent people assuming you're free to talk to. Alison Blaire, activist by day, is more sympathetic to the homeless of the city, but truly? Some of them scream at brick walls and hide razors in their pockets. Eye contact can be the death knell that kills.

So with the clatter of a hard heel on the pavement and eyes low to avoid jamming the point of her heel in the divoted space between squares of concrete, Alison moves quickly. She ignores the honking of the horns and cat-calling intended for her, as well, on her final approach her hotel, it's doormen, and the security of a suite on the eleventh floor.

Pink shoes. Youthful, pink shoes.

It's curious enough for Alison to raise her crystal, blue eyes to the shorter woman in passing. Alison breaks the rules and their eyes meet for a brief moment, an acknowledgement of presence, two ships passing and one Alison 'Dazzler' Blaire tiny smile in passing hello to the girl.

Ten feet behind Lucy, nearly six claps of her heels on the city street, Alison Blaire comes to a stop.

She turns.

"Excuse me?" Alison turns around and steps towards Lucia, bending slightly with a hanging sheet of flat-ironed blonde hair. Eyes wide and hopeful, she speaks a little more loudly. "Excuse me? I don't mean to assume, but is everything okay?"

Lucy (209) has posed:
When Alison walks right past the girl in question blue eyes follow her. There's complete silence for a long moment and then... Nothing. Just a wide-eyed stare, like the poor thing had expected the world and still couldn't quite process that it had left her with ashes. It turns to a quiet smile when the woman finally does stop.

The two women have the same eyes. It isn't like Lucia is a child, though apparently she has an exaggerated mode of dress one might associate with youth. She has the slightly drawn out, classic features of someone who is approaching the age of elegance and refinement. On her paper is written an address. The address for the hotel. She points at it and then at the building, watching Alison determinedly while she does so. After a second she pauses and then gestures to her throat with two fingers.

The girl shifts her weight slightly to the left and then takes a deep breath, tilting her head very slightly tothe right as she does so. She frown a bit, then points at the hotel with a confused expression and... Back to the address she is holding.

Conversation may be difficult if things continue this way.

Dazzler has posed:
Alison takes the paper from Lucy's fingers. Her own fingers are tipped in recently manicured fingernails painted to match her blue dress for the evening. Her two, curious blue eyes read from left to right. An address. Alison's no Sherlock, but with the way Lucy points to the building, and the numbers match the same address as her hotel, it all clicks into place.

The way Lucy points to her throat, however, pitches Alison's thread-trimmed brows in the middle with the sudden, sympathetic sadness that comes with watching those heart-wrenching ASPCA videos.

"Oh, oh honey, you poor thing." Alison quickly drops her clutch purse into her Lexcorp goodie back, which she tucks to her elbow like a purse. Hand freed, she reaches out to take Lucy's hand, turning for the hotel with every intent to walk her to the doors.

"Let's get you off of the street and in there where it's warm. I'm sure they have a pen or something for you two write on so we can get you checked in." Alison looks back over to the other blonde, lips twitching to the side in her best, most encouraging smile. "Do you have a reservation? If they gave you any trouble, I know the manager. We can get this figured out, together, okay?"

Lucy (209) has posed:
Lucy's hand is extemely warm. It isn't qutie enoug ht obe unnatural, but the heat is still remarkable. It's likely soothing in a way similar to sunning oneself on a beach or pressing in close against a loved one. She nods slowly when Alison suggests taking her to the hotel though she again furrows her brows as she considers the hotel in front of her with a great deal of care.

It's hard to tell quite what the young woman is thinking behind those faraway eyes, too old for her youthful frame, but she holds Alison's hand firmly and allows herself to be led. She is much stronger than one might expect of a girl her size but if she could squeeze hard enough to do harm she doesn't. Some people just have a good grip.

Lucy keeps close and makes sure to step in time with the taller woman and so it isn't long at all before the doors to the hotel are parting in front of them. Those expressive eyes are exploring everything while she continues with bated breath, small hand delicately captured in Alison's.

There's the manager's desk. He's already seen Lucy and there's a scowl forming. "I already told you once, miss, if you don't have a reservation you are going to have to leave the premises. I said if you came back again i was going to have to call sec----" A beat. "Miss Blaire?" The tall, slightly pudgy balding man with the thick horn-rimmed glasses blinks as he shifts his gaze to Alison and adjusts the collar on his starched blue dress shirt. "H-how may I help you? I apologize for my atttiude. Is this woman yourguest...?"

Dazzler has posed:
There's a confidence in Alison Blaire's long-legged stride. If not for the center of confidence it takes to stand in front of a crowd and share one's music, then it definitely comes from a few good years of being on VIP lists. Alison leads Lucy through the doors of the lavish hotel like the two of them belong there. Her heels sound different on the polished tile, a sharper sound to them, and in the final approach to the desk, her eyes sharpen above the pleasant curve of her mouth, ready to greet the manager //despite// what he's said said to Lucy.

"Hello, Stephen." Alison cocks her head and releases Lucy's hand. With a bend of her elbow, she places the hand in the center of Lucy's back, protectively. "Nonsense about the attitude, it's late and we're all tired, but I wanted to introduce you to a friend of mine. She doesn't speak, which I imagine makes it all kinds of difficult to get by in the city." A beat passes. Alison dips her head to look to Lucy, brushing a hand over her back, then turns her arm to gather a pen and paper from the desk.

"So let's get her name, look her up in the system, and if her booking isn't on file, then put her on my account for the night in the next-door suite and I'll take care of the rest." Alison looks from the manager, then to Lucy, brows shooting up in question. "Will that work for everybody?"

Lucy (209) has posed:
Both the manager and Lucy are blinking. Stephen had started out nodding but when Alison said to 'get her name' his brows beetled together as one plus one became two and a faint frown creased the man's lips. Instead of speaking further, however, he perplexedly watches events unfold and by the end of Alison's statements the man is nodding in time with the girl. It is probably the only thing they have in common.

"Of course, Miss Blaire. So, ah... Just write your name on this piece of paper, miss, and I'll search the system for you." The manager waits while Lucy writes out her name on the paper in careful script, though she looks a bit uncertain as she signs her last name into being. 'Lucia Hayes'. The girl takes a deep breath when this is done and slides the paper across the desk.

The next moment is spent in silence as the search is being conducted. Lucy looks up at Alison then back to Stephen, standing as still as it is possible for a girl to be. She stays very close to Dazzler for the moment and waits. Stephen frowns. "I am not seeing your name in the system-" The man starts slowly. Then he squints at the computer. "Actually, it seems to be having an error. Ah... One moment..."

Lucy takes a deep breath and then nods slowly, tilting her head as she does so. She squints slightly and stiffens a bit, alost as if she has fixated herself utterly on the terminal. Stephen's brows shoot up a moment later, climbing almost to his receding hairline. "I see. You have, ah. Suite 13... Actually, Miss Blaire? That would be the room directly next to yours." A moment later the women are being handed key cards.

Lucy still looks somewhat uncertain of herself but she draws a deep breath. She points her fingers at her chest and then at Alison with a solemn expression before snatching up the pen once more.

"Thank you."

Dazzler has posed:
Alison leans forward. She couldn't lean any further forward onto her toes, thus is the nature of high heels, but she does twist her neck to get her eyes on the words written on the slip of paper. A name is added to a face, and before she leans back to her full, standing height, she flashes a dimpled smile Lucia's way.

"Stephen, Lucia, you know, this happened to me once when I was doing a seasonal leg with Pink. I put everything in my check-in and by the time the plane landed I found out it was shipped to Heathrow instead of Berlin." Alison, so engrossed in her storytelling attempt to dial the awkward down, fails to notice just how closely Lucy is looking at the computer. She places a hand to her chest beneath a sapphire necklace, tilts her head to one side, and continues. "Now I didn't get mad, but I had my confirmation number in check-in, which was probably the worst idea ever. I ended up having to wake up my tour manager back here in the states at some god-awful hour to get the thing. Took hours, but just like this, everyone ended up taken care of and happy."

Alison places her hand to Lucia's back and mouths a 'you're welcome' to the woman, complete with a wink, and turns to lead the shorter blonde towards the elevators. In heels, Alison is nearly a foot taller than Lucy, which will change the moment the heels come of.

"Thank you, Stephen!" Alison waves behind her back through the elevator doors. She turns in a dip of her knees, finishing her wave as the elevator doors close.

The elevator starts upwards.

"Soooooooooooo-" Alison looks over to Lucia with a grin. "-that guy was being an ass." A beat. "I'll phone in the room service order and open my door between our rooms. Dinner work for you? I'm starving."

Lucy (209) has posed:
The girl shrugs before nodding ruefully when Alison calls Stephen ass. She wiggles slightly and gives a wordlessly laugh as if to say, "I can't really blame him." The girl follows after Alison when the elvator doors open, keeping her gaze more or less glued to the taller woman's. A foot of height difference means she cranes her neck slightly but the girl doesn't seem to mind and even returns the grin, though a bit more reservedly so. She is apparently comfortablewith a gentle hand against her shoulders.

The mention of dinner has Lucy bouncing slightly. She nods eagerly, and when the mention of starvation occurs she is quick to offer agreement. Lucia is amiable at least, even if she isn't particularly communicative.

It is soon ascertained that the room keys work, so there is no trouble whatsoever proceeding. Whatever fortuitous coincidence had Lucia placed in a room so close to Alison's seems to hold as the hallways are fiarly empty. No one to interrupt. Lucy is quick enough to duck into her room, though of course Alison has simply to open the door, having already offered to do so.

For her part Lucy just looks... Calm. Satisfied? It's so hard to tell what she is thinking with no words and mild expressions.

Dazzler has posed:
In a way, Alison is the cat who ate the canary. Not one to shy away from little victories, she twists her ankles in her heels, swishing the skirt around her knees for their elevator ride. Victories being infectiously fun in nature, she lids her eyes and dips her chin when food becomes their common denominator.

"I have an idea that should help when we get to the rooms. Just give me a few minutes." Alison smirks after the ding of the elevator bell and the first steps are taken into the carpeted, lonely hallways of their floor. Looking right and left as if crossing the street, she steps over to her door, waves as Lucy goes to hers, and disappears inside.

No more heels. Leaving them in a pile beside an smaller, weekend-type suitcase, Alison works her earrings out of her ears and leaves them on her nightstand. She digs into a bag and pulls out a white tablet computer, setting it onto the room's table. Only then does the Dazzler, shorter than she was ten seconds ago, step over to the partition door with a menu in one hand and the tablet, swept up quickly from the table, in the other.

"I decided it's not rude to ask if you wanted to use this while we eat." Alison offers the tablet, already opened to a text-entering screen. "Because I'm a table talker." A beat. "I'm Alison, by the way. I think Stephen said that."

Lucy (209) has posed:
Lucy is nearly a blur, she reacts so enthusiastically to the tablet's appearance. She snatches it up quickly, those crystal eyes reflected in the screen. Small hands slide across the the touch interface expertly and text almost seems to flow from her fingertips, like she was born for this.

"I know," comes the initial response in large, easy to read letters. The text is deleted instantly and then replaced with, "Alison, meaning Of holy fame. Good name for you." Then the girl adds, "The rooms are very big." She looks up to watch Dazzler's reactions to her words with a careful intensity that shows he is paying the utmost attention.

The smaller blonde draws a leg up underneath herself and now animatedly writes out messages to respond to Alison's words, returning the smiles and chatting in a rather erudite fashion. It is only if Alison watches her movements carefully she might notice that the young woman isn't really typing at all.

Dazzler has posed:
"Oh, good," Alison beams brightly at the letters before her. The bluish monitor glow off of the screen casts her flawless complexion in pale light. "I was worried that it would come across as insensitive but hey-" Snap, Alison reads the follow-up text and cocks her brow down to Lucy. "So you know who I am, then?" Alison asks, taking a step towards the two-chaired table with a wave. "It's more than enough room for little ole, me, but with these celebrity events the extra security is a godsend. That and the tubs. You have to try the tub. Seriously." Alison laughs.

With a twist of her hips, she rounds to her chair. One hand smooths the back of her dress as she slips down onto it, easily crossing her legs. With a tightened back and a long arm, she overturns her wrist in an offer for Lucy to take the other side of the table.

"Feel free to open up the menu. It's my treat; I was eyeballing a bottle of wine earlier so dinner for me's going to be light." Alison continues, tapping the menu on its heavy, bookleted edge. The binder-styled document flops open, and with a pointed finger, Alison turns a page.

"So what are you doing in New York this time of year? Work? Family?" Alison asks, eyes up and over to Lucy.

Lucy (209) has posed:
Lucy takes up the offered seat and then opens the menu carefully. She is soon returning to the tablet afterward, if only so that she can start to write a reply to the question asked of her. There's a pause from Lucy, whose gaze is now locked to the machine instead of to her companion. She writes slowly, "Family" but for the first time hesitates at the end, letting the cursor blnk instead of clearing the screen. Then additional words join it and she forgets to move her hands as she adds, "Trying to learn."

After this Lucia, still illuminated in the glow of the tablet, turns her gaze back to the menu in question.Her brows furrow as she surveys the items presented, and most get a rather quizzical look. Anything fancier than a cheeseburger. She even mouths the words, "What is a taco?" As if anyone from the USA could fail to identify a taco. Mahi mahi tacos with pickled slaw are another matter. After a bit, the girl looks up, biting her bottom lip.

"Four double cheeseburgers with bacon and french fries?" The question sits there awaiting a reply. Lucy's gaze is utterly serious while she studies Alison's features for a reaction.

Dazzler has posed:
This time, Alison is watching the tablet. Blue-hued eyes bounce from the screen to Lucy's face, trying to match her facial expressions with the words. With her back so straight against her chair, sitting so charm-school grade proper in the moment, she's taller, eyes cast downwards in her observations. Her eyelid twitches when the screen types letters all on its own, but for the passing seconds, Alison says nothing.

A short jaunt back to her menu, and Alison sets her finger over an entry. Her cell phone comes up and loads the hotel's room-connected software. The menu flashes to the screen, and her order for the greek salad with grilled chicken is added to the order. Add a bottle of wine and some water, Alison lifts the phone to show Lucy what she's working on. Four cheeseburgers with bacon and french fries are added in, but Alison hesitates to press the order in, just yet.

"Did you want anything to drink with that?" Alison asks, dipping her head towards the screen. "I'll explain what a taco is in a second, Lucia, but there's really no need to type your fingers against the tablet anymore. I think I'm seeing the bigger picture, here, and it's okay." Alison's lip tugs, reassuringly. "If you know who I am, then you know that I love all of the ways people are different."

Lucy (209) has posed:
"You shouldn't love how I'm different," Lucia responds in blinking text, expression rather grave. No more mimicking follows. "I'm sorry. I won't- pretend anymore. Habit. People don't like..." She lets the cursor blink there instead of adding to it. Blue eyes scan the salad order and the bottle of wine and Lucy tilts her head before nodding. The adjunct text is: "Yes. Four. Please. Water is okay to drink."

After this Lucia twists very slightly so that she can properly face Alison and take a deep breath before adding seriously, "Very... searching. Navigation. Synonyms... Could not find destination... Lost." A beat. "This wasn't here then." Lucy takes a deep breath, biting her bottom lip for a second while she seems to be searching for a phrase. Finally the girl scowls and lets out a frustrated sigh.

"Everything is different," Lucy concludes flatly. "You had a show tonight?" Then, "There was a threat." Some Cyrilic characters follow Alison might not even know the tablet can access. Maybe Lucy reprogrammed it. "And you were- accused. Targeted. ..."

Dazzler has posed:
"Water it is, then." Alison adds a few bottles and presses the order in. Hair framing her mascara-covered eyes, she sets the phone down and tries to hide the tightening of her jaw at how negative Lucia is about her powers. She's been on the news, countless times, with fans telling her of horrible //coming out// stories that had ruined their lives. Her frown fades as the phone is set down. Once again, Alison returns her attention to Lucia and her screen. This time, with her fingers resting gently upon the table.

"Everything is different, as in, this isn't the same as your actual home?" Alison sharpens, catching on quickly. The streaks of blonde hair scatter over Alisons shoulders as she shakes her head. "No, no I din't have a show tonight, but there's always a threat. There's always people coming after me because I'm one of the world's most-outed mutants. I had to disable auto-view of replies to my tweets. Someone's always trying to log in as me on my accounts, it's a mess." Alison adds quickly, then pinches her eyes together and waves her hand in the air. Hushing herself, she stops derailing off track, which she is known to do, and sets her palm down on the table before Lucy.

"You're lost. This is the same Earth but the details don't match up." Alison asks, pointedly. "Am I in the ballpark, here, Lucia?"

Lucy (209) has posed:
"Yes," LUcy responds slowly, painstakingly typing out each letter. "Stick ... Goat... Ram... MEMORY," the girl continues, her expression one of stark concentration. The frustration is obvious in how her jaw tightens and her face scrunches as she is writing out this sequence of nouns. She takes a deep breath.

"Memory is - wrong. Date is 04.29. 2018. Date is 4.29.2023. Date is 4.29.2025." Lucy shakes her head then and twists slightly so that she can look up at Alison's eyes once more and draw another slow breath inward. "You're the same," she adds. Then finally: "Words are hard. I'm sorry. There's a name for it..."

Dazzler has posed:
For a second time, Lucia makes Alison's face tighten up. No Grinch by any means, Alison's heart grows an extra size and her brows come together in sudden concern. Confusion? It's all gone, replaced by a backward scoot of her chair and a quick uncrossing of her legs that bids her to stand. The layered hem of her dress flows about her knees in her rounding of the table.

There, Alison lowers a knee and reaches out for Lucia's hair.

"No, don't apologize. You're going to be okay, Lucia, alright?" Alison replies with firm brows and a quick combing brush of her fingers through the blonde strands, a color she shares with Lucia. One brush and her hand comes down over Lucia's wrist in a gentle, supporting squeeze. "I had a friend that this happened to, and I don't understand all of it, but you're going to be safe and you're going to be okay, //okay//?" Alison's eyes boggle, trying to manage eye contact before the writing starts again. "Your memory is wrong, but this place is safe. It's my home. I //am// Alison Blaire and you can compass on that."

Lucy (209) has posed:
"Memory is not //wrong//," Lucy replies gently. She accepts that touch from Alison, leaning into it very slightly . She takes a deep breath and slowly closes her eyes. "Kronor. Kronos. Chronometer. Chronometer is broken," she concluds finally. A deep breath follows.

"Out of sequence." Lucia tilts her head slowly and then opens her eyes again so that she can settle that perfect blue gaze upward once more- even if Alison is looking past to see her write. FInally the girl rolls her shoulders back and draws up to her full height, keeping her gaze trained on Alison's face.

"Terrible dinner conversation," the girl finally finishes in a dry way. "Do you have a favourite food?"

Dazzler has posed:
"Out of sequence." Alison //is// looking to the screen when Lucia looks her way. Weighing the words in concept, the pop star's expressive features push an active wall against the urge to frown. Frowning isn't comforting, not in the way she squeezes Lucia's wrist and lets it go. Locked on the screen, she's snapped out of her cosmic weighing of the idea of being 'out of sequence' when the change in subject appears in Calibri font on the screen.

The Dazzler manages a tiny laugh.

"I try not to think too much about food." Alison flits her eyes to Lucia's face for a shared second of eye contact. Then, Alison is rising to her feet with a cracking sound down near her ankle. Wince. Heels for four hours straight. "If I don't fear and respect food, I'll be fearing and respecting yoga kicking my ass for the next week." Alison smirks into the subject change. "But I love Indian and Middle Eastern on my cheat days."

A knock-knock-knock comes from her distant door.

"I'll be right back." Alison smirks and turns rolling her heel to work out the kinks, and then strides for the door to collect the incoming feast.

Lucy (209) has posed:
As Dazzler is walking away the pain in her joints alleviates quickly. The young woman, for her part, is still sitting politely, watching as Allison proceeds away from her. She doesnt't really move a muscle other than as necessary for her chest to expand outward and fill with oxygen. But the pain is gone. Any scrapes, bruises, or even pulled muscles... Aren't. Or at least lessen tremendously.

As the food is being collected Lucy reaches up to carefully brush stray tresses from her face, setting them just so across her shoulder. Those blue eyes are distant right now as she watches something far away.

As Alison turns to set the food down herphone begins to vibrate. Text message?

Dazzler has posed:
A sigh escapes Alison three feet from the door. The relieved sound is cleansing in nature. Her arms lift high over her head and her elbows bend. Shoulders pinching in triangles, she relishes in relief that seems so natural that her arms are wobbly when she opens the door.

The wheels are squeaky. Opting to bring it in herself, Alison's back hunches over in a lazy push of the cart towards the table. "You have no idea how good it feels to be out of those heels. I swear, it's like...it only takes five minutes or at worst a tub-soak, but once it's gone? Glorious." Alison stops the cart and turns, plucking up the lid. With a dip of her knees, the lid is placed on the floor. Two cheeseburgers with fries on one plate, another two with fries on the other. SOMEONE is eating healthy, and, in truth, the salad looks out of place on the cart.

"Just a second, Lucia." Alison hustles back to her seat. Slipping in sideways, she holds up an apologetic finger to her dinner partner and jerks her head to one side, casting her hair over one shoulder. She picks up the cell phone and thumb-slides to open the message.

Lucy (209) has posed:
It's a Twitter alert that's supposed to be disabled.

BULLETIN: Russian hacker group "Osmodeus" detained in high profile court action. Unmasking of Anti-Mutant Hacktivist leader Antonin Sokolov.

The story goes on to explain various exploits of the group including SWATing mutant households in the USA, death threats, robbery, extortion.

It should be familiar to Alison. This group was sending her threats not long ago.

Lucy is watching as the Dazzler checks her message, her expression one of beatific calm. She waits politely with her hands folded politely over her lap and waits. Blue eyes shift to the cart and study the food carefully. She doesn't really wear an expression right now, instead letting the intensity of her riveted gaze fill in for an opinion on what she sees.

On the phone pops a text message box. Written are the words, "I will set the table." When Alison turns around... The food actually seems to dissolve. It falls away like the sand inside of an etch-a-sketch along with the plates and silverware only to reappear as if rising from the sands of Egypt in fine form, reconstructed on the table. It's a perfect place setting for two.

Dazzler has posed:
"Oh...em...gee..."

Unbidden, the words fall off of Alison's tongue before she can capture them. Surprise and content battle for control of her face as she brings up the phone in two hands to read over the story. Thumbs smear over the smartphone's screen, and in an effort to not be rude, Alison looks over the phone to Lucia.

"Sorry, just a second. These creepers that were trying to mess with me got arrested. I'm one bad password from a Fappening, at least they seem to think so," Alison shoots her brows up high and makes a tongue-to-side silly face at Lucia. Elated, Alison turns back to the story and continues. "It's not fun being told you'd better be careful to watch for white powder in your fan mail."

The monitor glow that immuminates Alison's face flickers. Alison blinks. In that singular moment there's no question that the message has popped up onto the screen. Information cycles through the pop-star's late night brain, and when she looks up, she blinks again, leaning away from the table when the food reappears, set before her, wine poured into the glass and ready for her.

"Lucia?" Alison sets her phone down, not reeling away in horror. Her forearms rest against the edge of the table, manners remembered. "I...wow. Questions." Alison's dark lashes flutter and she sucks in a deep breath. "Did you...just take down Asmodeus? Just now?"

Lucy (209) has posed:
Lucia returns the silly face Alison makes a her and then smiles beatifically Perhaps too much so. She's preening, almost. After Alison is done reading and begins to speak to Lucy the girl pushes the tablet gently acoss the table toward Alison and then blinks once. She doesn't need to be near it apparently. Written in the same plain text as before, "Yes." The cursor blinks for a long moment after this with Lucia staring at the food laid out in front of herself.

"You helped me," is what the girl writes next. It is followed by, "Ask questions. I trust you. But questions can be - ... not good." A beat. "Harmful." Another. "Can bring harm."

It is now that Lucia is moving forward toward the food. Her pale, flawless skin is illuminated in the glow of multiple screens, with cellphone and tablet both laid upon the table, the LEDs in their display glowing bright. She reaches toward the burger in front of her. Four double cheeseburgers, she said. It is now that the girl enacts one of her greatest magic tricks. She makes a burger disappear. How does one eat so quickly with such a tiny mouth? Somehow she doesn't even make a mess.

Dazzler has posed:
The skin around Alison's mouth sinks, then comes back up in a smile. She reaches to her brow and brushes strands of blonde hair away from her eye, which only serves to further highlight the boggling disbelief in her features. She has to look to her phone again, then the tablet, then Lucia. It's all real. She plucks up her phone and flits to another news service. It's on there, too.

The phone is set down.

The wine glass is picked up.

Careful to keep from leaving the stain of her lip-color on the glass, Alison takes a sip of the wine. This is where someone throws back something harder, but a decent zin will do. The glass is drained halfway, and then delicate fingers guide the delicate stem back to the tablecloth.

"I...appreciate it." Alison chooses her works. She chooses her fork as well, smearing her cloth napkin in the same color of blue of the manager's dress shirt on her lap. "So thank you, those people were...bad people, Scary really, but I do have to ask one question, truly."

Alison leans forward, elbow resting against the table's edge. FUCK table manners. Alison stabs a piece of chicken with her fork. "Lucia? Promise me you were, like, really really really really really really sure that you just got the right people in trouble." The Dazzler whispers. "Because I couldn't let the wrong people take the fall for it."

Lucy (209) has posed:
"I opened their mine - safe - nomial house - ... Vault. They had pictures of you. Other things," Lucy relates in the quietest, most careful way. "They wanted to hurt you."

With that question answered Lucia attacks the second burger and a plate of fries. No, she does not atually eat in a supernatural manner. at least not ostensibily. It simply beggars belief that she can even manage to breathe when shoving thatm uch food into her motuh at one time. Nevermind that there is no way a stomach that small has sufficient capacity.

When three burgers and their attendant starches have been consumed Lucia begins to write gain. She doesn't bother looking up anymore when she 'speaks', the words laying out carefully in an entirely new font. Forget Calibri. She's swapped to Lucida Calligraphy.

"Did I do something wrong?" This is asked without Lucy even looking up. She stops eating, however. "You look- broken. Nervous. Anxious. Restless... Upset." A brief pause. "You look upset. I should stop?"

Dazzler has posed:
Pictures of you.

For all of the movies, television appearances, and music videos, Lucia is greeted with a very human image of the celebrity. The intrusion into her life brings Alison to a vulnerable place. Lifting the piece of chicken past her lips to be mashed by her teeth carries more weight than it should. Despite the five star hotel's ability to cook flavor into her meal, the first bite is taken by rote, accompanied by thoughts of what they might have stolen from her.

A few more bites of the salad are taken in silence. Eyes avoidant to watch the other woman eat, it's the flickering of the screen and new words that draws Alison's attention. Her tongue darts out, smearing over her lips to finish her last bite. She waits until the final character dots the screen before looking out to Lucia with something half-pleading in her eyes.

"No, no it's not you. I'm not //broken//, maybe anxious, restless, I don't know, but it's not because you did something wrong, Lucia." Alison leans forward in her seat, twisting her ankle in a circle before she leans back, finding comfort in the cross of one leg over the other. "It's //right// for me to want to make sure that you got the right people. But...since you did...I'm not upset." Alison continues.

She reaches once more for her wine glass. Eyes tilt to their corners, accessing the creative part of her brain, seeking for the right poetry. Pop stars don't think in math unless they're working on a musical 'hook' and counting the beats per minute.

"It's just the idea that someone would want to do that to me." Alison ticks her head a measure, seeking a line of understanding between the two. "I'm a celebrity, a symbol, I should be used to this by now but getting used to it always felt wrong, too. So, for a moment there, I guess I was thinking about how cruel some strangers can be; that there //is// a target. I'll never be so afraid to give up who I am, but that doesn't mean, at times, that it isn't scary." A beat. The wine glass tilts. "Does that make sense?"

Lucy (209) has posed:
Lucy stares up at Alison's face for a long time, those wide eyes intent upon her own and studying her features as it commit them to memory. There's a long moment there, clearly marked by understanding and intent. Empathy, perhaps, though her expressions share very little in return. A few french fries do find their way to their way into the girl's mouth but for the most part she is very still.

"Not broken," Lucia agrees then. "Unbending unyielding harsh inflexible - strong." That response is given very quietly as the girl then slipping to her feet. "Difficulty finding phrasings," Lucy continues as she slowly moves around the table toward where Alison is seated. "Words missing. Wherever the chronometer went."

After that Lucy moves to embrace Alison tightly. She is the right height to hug her properly, shoulder to shoulder, while the woman is seated. Of course that doesn't stop her being slender enough to easily disappear into Alison's arms. Still, Lucy is much stronger than the taller, more curvaceous blonde would expect. Stronger than she has a right to be, perhaps. It's a warm, secure sort of strength and nothing that is remotely threatening.

When Alison can see the tablet again it reads, "You helped me. I protect you. Acquaintance partner guarantor businessman symbiosis... Family."

Dazzler has posed:
"Yeah, not broken," Alison's eyes are sly while she reads, brow arcing over one eye to watch Lucia rise from her seat. Sensing some realm of incoming contact, she sets the wine glass back down and gathers her napkin into her hands, wiping them clean (not that they weren't truly clean at the moment). The napkin flops down beside her fork. "You don't have to be a poet, Lucia. I'm the one that has to find the right words for everything for a living. Just try to throw it into the Goldilocks range and I'll read your face. That should get it through."

Alison extends her arms, welcoming the other blonde into her arms. She leans up and into the hug, sliding her chin over Lucia's shoulder to wrap her arms about the other woman's ribcage in a squeeze. There's no secret that Alison is weaker, she can feel the strength in Lucy's arms, despite how wiry they are, but Alison's //squeeze// is laden with soupy empathy, a thanks, a relief.

"Thank you, Lucia Hayes." After a few seconds of prolonged hugging, Alison presses the edge of her mouth to Lucia's cheek in a kiss and looks down to the tablet, only then realizing that had Lucia something to say, she wouldn't be hearing it from her mouth. Eyes bounce and boggle, the words a language of their own. "Oh, I'm definitely getting your number to keep track of after tonight, Lucia. Don't you worry about that." Another squeeze rattles in. "Let's upgrade from strangers to friends and we'll keep an eye out for each other." Family? Alison's arms don't hesitate despite the deeply personal word. "We're all one."

Lucy (209) has posed:
Lucy nods, apparently quit satisfied with the response. She keeps that hug going for a long time before finally taking a deep breath and very slowly withdrawing herself. Once extricated from Alison's arms the girl goes about tending to any trash wor discarded remnants on the table from finished parts of the meal. Whether paper or wrapper it- vanishes, like it wwas consumed in a million infinitessimal bites.

Once this is done Lucy lifts her hand and turns her palm upward. In the middle of it is a rapidly forming object. It builds up bit by bit and soon it turns out to be a white stuffed rabbit. It's small enough for someone to put into their pocket if they are so inclined. On the tablet screen it says, "Good luck charm." The little stuffed rabbit with the wide, expressive eyes is held out to Alison.

"I will go sleep. Thank you. We can still talk if you like." Beneath that is a web address. Someplace to send messages. Even voice, were one so inclined.

Dazzler has posed:
Still seated at the hug's end, Alison presses a hand over her skirt and smooths it out, then quickly pushes a stray drift of hair over her ear. One by one, wrappers on the table disappear, and in the least alcoholic way, Ali grabs the wine bottle in one hand and the glass in the other, holding them out of the way. Definite no-go items on the cleanup tour.

"Efficient." Alison laughs and sets her late-night wine back down and rises from her seat. Lips bunching to one side, she turns towards Lucy, hip cocking to once side comically. Just like the episodes where she appeared as herself on that show about 'nerds'. "What I wouldn't have given for you to be around through Junior High. Cleaning my room was the worst."

Like her very own, life-sized 3d printer! Grinning ear to ear when she sees that it's something fuzzy, Alison 'awws' as it forms. Preciously, she collects the rabbit in one hand and bends her elbow, pressing it to her chest. She wraps an arm around Lucia for one last hug, then loops an arm in hers, leading her to the door that separates their suites. "Like a good luck charm to keep pervy hackers at bay? I seriously might name him Excalibur." She eye-rolls at her own bad joke. "You know, defending virginal whatever."

At the door, Alison lets Lucia have her arm back and begins to close her door with a smile. "We will talk. I'll send you a message before I check out and make sure you got out of here, okay. sleep tight and, seriously, thank you. You've done me a crazy solid and maybe we'll go out and get our feet done or go shopping or something? I've got a club gig next week here in town. I'll need a top for it."

Eyebrows high and teeth bared, Alison wobbles her brows and closes the door.

"Good night, Lucy."

Click.