Owner	Pose
Dazzler	Home turf. Long Island, New York. The last days in passing have been whirlwind, with classes ending in Westchester and a wealth of time on her hands, Alison Blaire has given Lucia Hayes a private tour of her life. A swing-by stay at the mansion and a visit to her closet, a dress shared here, boots shared there, a night alone shared together. The top comes off of the red BMW sportster and the drive through New York, back into the city, is seronaded to the tune of loud music and Starbucks cups, for Summer is coming, and Summer is the time of Alison Blaire. Long Island is a place sacred to Alison. She drives past her boarding school and the lavish five-bedroom home she grew up in, lined with trees for the one remaining parent she has living there: Her mother. It's a happy time, with hundreds of dollars thrown around her favorite shopping mall for IMPORTANT THINGS that Lucia will need, despite...potentially not having the space to store it all. Alison has room, but one cannot stay a week at a lavish private beach house overlooking the Atlantic without a bikini to sun in, sandals to wear, and the freedom that comes with owning things. Alison has been insistent, all the way, that life means growth. Now. The sun rises over the water to the sound of gulls over the beach. The white and blue painted beach house is lived in, with shopping bags of clothing in the bedroom, emptied bottles of wine in the garbage, and soot from a used fire pit on the beach-facing patio. A white and blue-striped bikini top lays strew about the floor at the foot of a pillowy bed, where two lumps of human souls exist beneath the sheets. Alison Blaire, beneath the waving curtains of the four-poster bed, clings naked beneath the sheets to Lucia Hayes. Paired like spoons in a drawer, she clutches the other blonde to her chest, face buried so closely into her neck that Alison's own tousled, blonde hair would seem to be one continuous strand with Lucias, if not for the recently dyed strip of pink running behind the back of her ear. All is peaceful...a good night's sleep for an athletic, wine-flavored night prior.
Lucy	Lucia is, in a word, overwhelmed. It is the rapt attention of a child in some ways; she stares at everythign with wide-eyed wonder and obeys Alison's whims for her without question. The boots are a truly mind opening experience. Lucy falls on her face being far too short for them, but doesn't seem to mind. She cut herself once, preparing breakfast for Alison. The cut was unable to be found by the time the blonde reached her; only blood on the towel showed it had ever happened at all. Lucy had smiled and gone ack to cooking, more carefully this time and resisted any attempts to dissuade her. Lucia's bikini had to be blue, to match her eyes. She chose it with Alison and smiled betifically at her as she pointed and gestured to the ones i nfront of her, going through the various swimsuits before settlign on the specific one that was undeniably her. It isn't as ostentatious as what Alison would have picked but there's a bow on it and Lucy likes it enough to argue, wordlessly. She almost never does, really. The next day Lucia woke up with red hair. She is still the same girl, really; the red hair complements her skin tone well and accents her eyes. It might be her natural color, in fact. It proves impossible to tell. Life means growth, and that means changes like this, at times. All the things she owns are stored with Alison in various places. Lucy has nowhere at all to put them but so far it seems that she lives with Alison now and that, in a sense, gives her space to burn. Today. Lucia is the first to stir. She does not need to sleep so long as Alison so it is often that she stretches quietly, yawns soundlessly, and shifts in Alison's arms, more than content to be held buried against her. She decides her hair should be red again after some brief confusion over whose hair is which on the bed and then twists slightly in her lover's arms, nestling in closer. For the first time it seems she is going to sleep peacefully. Nothing has happened at all. Another blissful morning shared between the two on their getaway. But when Alison wakes up there is no Lucy, just the warmth of her being there against her on the bed. The girl likes to make Alison breakfast but there's not the accompanying noise nor the smell of food. In fact, it seems, she is completely gone. Lucy did take her swimsuit.
Dazzler	Mrrf. When Alison wakes, she's in a sprawl, with far too much bed for herself at her disposal. If not for Lucia's presence to sidle up against, she'd be in her normal state, which she wakes in: Legs splayed out, half-laying upon her chest, arms spread wide. It's as if the Dazzler is hugging a bed too wide for her arms to get around, with her face buried in its pillows. It takes a few moments for her to realize that she's alone. One blue eye peeks out from beneath the pillow to the side of the bed she'd //left// Lucia on, patting at it weakly. No. There is no Lucia. Muscles strain and legs reign in, stiffening and shuddering in a stretch. "Lucia?" Alison mumbles weakly, rolling over to her nightstand to tap at her cell phone. She blinks at the blurred numbers to count the time, then scrubs at her face with her fingers. It's time to wake. Two minutes later, Alison has tied the strings of her bikini back on, found her bikini bottoms and tied them as well. Feet into sandals, she walks out of the bedroom tying the sarong low upon her hips and raking her fingers through her long, blonde hair, trying to get it to settle. At a beach resort, beach-clothing is normal clothing. "Where'd you run off to?" Alison croaks through her yawn, turning for the kitchen.
Lucy	In the kitchen there is not a Lucia. There is, however, a breakfast. Lucy has become quite the chef and it seems she bothered to cook for Alison before she went. It's a bit heartier than Alison might normally eat, perhaps; a subtle nudge at the star not to neglect her health for her figure. Whether she does or not. Lucy can fret in her small ways, they're just less loud and obnoxious than how other people do things. Which, really, is Lucia in a nutshell much of the time. The food has been laid out in a striking pattern, items cut into shapes to fit so that it becomes a geometrical array in the middle of a large plate shaped like a star. The strange part is that much of it is the wrong colour. Eggs are green (she did read Doctor Seuss yesterday), and orange is... Red? It isn't a blood orange but it could full someone unfamiliar. The dishes are already clean and the stove is cold. The stove is cold and the bed is warm... When did Lucy cook this? How, for that matter. Outside, the beach is silent save for the call of a few passing birds and the whisper of the wind. It's too early to be hot outside. Too early to be alone, as well. Lucy is always then when Alison looks for her.
Dazzler	It takes a few more steps, but Alison eventually morphs into her 'walk'. It's the sort of long-legged stride she learned from modeling, a standard state she walks in now with the constant fear of cameras everywhere snapping pictures for TMZ. Ever-conscious of her celebrity self, Alison eats like a rabbit, yogas more often than most kids play video games, and, despite the sweet smile that forms on her lips at the feast left behind for her, only takes a tiny piece of bacon and orange from the platter. The bacon crunches past her teeth, nibbled upon while Alison sweeps her blue eyes over the main room, the windows, the porch. Not seeing Lucia yet, her threaded brows twist in concern. "Lucia?" Alison calls out again, then uses the tip of her finger to push the orange past her teeth. Alison Blaire turns...back for the bedroom. She returns, phone in hand. >>Where are you? Did you go for a run? Before she knows it, Alison is sliding open the patio door, thumbs typing away, eyes sweeping the coastline. >>Don't leave me in here with all of this food, I'm gonna get fat.
Lucy	This has never happened before. The responses Lucia gives to Alison's texts are usually so swift it would be impossible to have actually typed them.. Something that makes sense when collating all the data that the statuesque star has managed to acquire on the girl who shares her life. this is the first time Lucy hasn't responded. Not in five seconds. Not in ten. Or thirty. As Alison looks over the coastline she will see a shimmer toward the farend of the beach, along the curve wherethe sand starts to become rocky as it approaches the cliffs. It's almost like a rainbow sunset or the shimmer of an oil bubble. A distortion, really. Visible at a distance. Lucy is there at the center of it. Probably? Maybe? That area of beach is twisted. Rocks like gargoyles or dragons and in other strange shapes, the sky shimmering in unusual ways. It is like a fantasy scape is trying very hard to come to life in sculpture. Several of these lie fallen, shattered. Lucy is tiny figure amid this slow transformation, all alone, her hair fluttering on the breeze.
Dazzler	"Oh....fuck." Alison nearly drops her phone. It bobbles in her hands and she stumbles forward, catching it in a low stoop of her body that clatters sandals over the wooden porch before the phone can fall under the boards. Eyes up, she blinks her worry down to the edge of the beach, a place so exposed, with so many vacationers likely to be ready for the sunrise. She kicks her sandals off, leaving them in a flop on the deck, and leaps out in a sprint across the sand towards the edge of the beach. >>WAaKE4. UPp. Typing as she runs, Ali curses and kicks up clods of wet sand, running along the edge of the surf where the sand is hard and packed, not so heavy against her heels. Far more Baywatch and the least sexy run along the beach ever, her breath comes out in puffs in her race to get to Lucia as quickly as possible. "Lucy!" Alison yells out. "WAKE. UP!"
Lucy	TWhen Alison screams for her Lucy's head whips around and she turns herself toward the woman sprinting across the sand toward her. The statue she was crafting explodes abruptly, so much silicon shrapnel shooting in all directions. this one would have been made of coloured glass, it seems. aA spray of shards hitsAlison as she runs, leaving myriad small scrapes on exposed skin. Most of them won't bleed. The girl takes a deep breath, blinking a few times a bit blankly as Alison finally manages to get close. She shifts her weight back a little bit, apparently not quite sure on the uptake about the situation. She'll quickly fall into Alison's arms when scooped up, however. For a seocnd Alison feels an intense itch, look something is workingits way under her skin bu then Lucy squeezes her tightly and the itc hing stops. No actual harm done. Even the beach looks hauntingly beautiful in its surrealist way, the waste of a sculptor with the ability to reshape mountains by hand. Dragons and jaguars. A lot of them are things ALison likes. Animals she fids cute and so forth. There's a dolphin. Not too far away a door can be heard slamming shut. it's just a click, really. It might not be anything important. A screen door... or a car.
Dazzler	Alison gets her forearms up in time to protect her eyes from the explosion. The warping of the hotels still fresh in her mind, so unsure of the //power// Lucia possesses, whatever fear is evident on Alison's face is hidden from her impromptu shield. The nicks and scrapes form, peppering Alison's skin, leaving tiny rivulets of blood forming on forearm and abdomen...but none of it halts the charge of the pop starlet, trying to get to Lucia before she is harmed...or harms herself. The sand gathers up around Alison as she skids, stumbling the last few feet to capture Lucia in her arms and draw her close with a protective forarm bleeding around the smaller woman's shoulders. Redhead and blonde, locked in a momentary catch, the stink of adrenaline in Alison's blood and the pounding of her pulse is all the more evident at close range. "Are you okay?" Alison winces back the itching feeling in her skin that dies with Lucia in her arms. Quickly checking, Alison pulls back and smears red hair away from Lucia's face, checking her eyes, her cheeks, her lips. "Did you sleepwalk out here, I thought-" Oh. Alison looks up to the shapes, the animals, signs of //intentional// changes to the landscape. Her brows shoot up, ignoring the sounds of doors closing in her mortified moment. "Oh...fuck, you weren't-" Blink. "...art?" Alison looks down, brows insistent with need to //understand//.
Lucy	Alison's nicks and scrapes soon disappear as if nothing had happened, leaving nothing but the faint smears of lbood to prove thatt here was ever anything there at all. The girl, meanwhile, curls herself close agianst Alison, sinking into the blonde's arms and burying her head against her chest for a long moment. Then the blonde withdrawws and it allows the diminutive redhead to nod a few times, slowly. Art. Lucy was doing art, or it is close enough as an answer that the girl does not mind the comparison. There are tears on her hceeks now and she watches Alison with wide, scared eyes.. She gestures to thew oman's arms, where the contusions had occurred. Are you alright? The gestures ask, even though any sign of actual wounds has already disappeared. Footsteps on the beach. There's a man approaching from the far end. Dark, stern, wearing a suit. Possibly unnoticed there are a couple figures up on the nearby cliff as well, moving in closer bit by bit but keeping to the rocks and shadows. The man calls out, "Miss! I wouldn't get that close if I were you. That machine you are holding is very dangerous. Just look at what it did to this beach."
Dazzler	"It's okay, it's //okay//." Alison whispers and shakes her head, messy blonde strands flinging about with the ocean air. Frowning, she palms Lucia's cheek and smears a tear away with her thumb. Where was once fear is now a mask of shame, lips twisting downwards, strangely, in some manner of apology. "I...freaked out and made a mistake, I'm sorry, I woke up and you were g-" Gone. Alone. But not alone, now. "It's okay!" Alison speaks up, the New Yorker in her coming out, ready to tell a stranger to mind their own 'biz', but by the time she turns her head, the man in the suit calls Lucia a //machine//. Eyes narrow to slits, and the scowl that forms is hellish and warning. "Excuse me?" Alison's knees tighten and she starts to rise, arms untangling from Lucia. "Who the f*** do you think you are to talk about a person like that?" Alison growls and points to the parking lot. "This is private beach property." She points again. "Get."
Lucy	"I'm sorry, ma'am, but that happens to be extremely valuable property and there's currently a legal warrant for its pursuit and apprehension. I have every right to be on private property. I would have contacted you first but there seems to have been some issue in that regard. It was a simple mistake." The man does not seem perturbed by harsh language, watshing intensely from his place twenty-five meters away. Twenty-five meters precisely, in fact. He reaches into a suit pocket with a black gloved hand and tilts his head slightly while he studies Alison from head to toe. "I'm here for your safety. I was observing but when I saw the level of damage being done here I felt I had to step in. You are in grave danger. You've felt it. The itching?" The man pauses, brow furrowing faintly as he watches, significantly. Four times now. Four times Alison has felt her skin starting to go crazy when she was close to Lucy, and always when she was doing- whatever it is she does to shape the world. Lucia herself is cowering behind Alison for the moment. She captures a hand when the blonde pulls away, standing as close as she is able. The petite redhead in the blue bikini trusts her love implicitly, it seems. "That feeling," the man continues. "Is you being scanned for parts while it determines if you can be reduced to molecules and used for new construction. And at your base you're primarily carbon. You can." His voice is soft and even but firm. Authoritative. He takes a deep breath. "Lucy," the suited man continues now. "Authorization Code..." He rattles off a series of numbers and letters too quickly to be easily followed. Lucy starts and then nods slowly. "Authorization acknowledged. Elevated access granted to Admin User: Daedalus..." Then she straightens a bit, standing perfectly still. For now she still holds Alison's hand.
Dazzler	"No! Stop-" Alison...hesitates. She's felt the tingling, itching beneath skin she keeps so pure for the cameras and the photo shoots. Despite a sweep of her hand with fingers itching for her own reasons, hesitating to draw sound from the crush of the ocean and transition it into light. A celebrity attacking officers, such a dangerous slope to slip upon, but what he says makes...sense. Her lips part, her voice catches in her throat, and between herself and the agent, the moment of faltering is captured. "Wait-NO!" Alison catches herself and pushes back against Lucia, trying to put some space between them and the agents. "She hasn't hurt me at all, I'm not in any fucking danger; can't you see that?!" Alison yells and holds out a palm to them, warning them all back. "What you're doing is //TRAFFICKING//. She's a person, not a fucking experiment. Lucia, ignore that code!" Alison loses control of the situation, head whipping back to Lucia, then forward again in a rush of panic. "I want to see badges! Badges! Papers! Get the goddamned president on the phone if you have to but there is no way in hell you're taking her with you; I don't give a FUCK who you are."
Lucy	"I-I don't know if I... He's overriding- primary nose ... Sequence is wrong. Colors." Lucy blinks, her expression one of abolutely concentration and confusion as she considers everything occurring. "Incomplete access codes. System locked." At that last statement the suit has an odd expression on his face. It's a mixture of satisfaction and consternation. He succeeded, but wishes he could have done better? Only now does the man step within the twenty-five meter mark. "Lucy is not a person, Alison. May I call you that? Miss Blaire might be better. More formal. Lucy is not and was never person. Why do you think she can change her hair color? Her appearance? Tear apart objects around her? Hack computers with a thought? "She is a very advanced piece of equipment with a similarly advanced AI control module that is currently rogue and not properly responding to commands." For a second the man allows himself to scowl. "I have papers showing I am a representative of the Pareon Futures with a deed for the ownership of this autonomous cybernetic unit," he continues. "Legally authorized for property recovery. This isn't trafficking. I'm sorry, but you've been duped by a piece of software." He reaches into his coat to produce a sheaf of papers. For now, the other men are watching. Lucy's entire form is trembling. It's a girl whose body is at war with itself as she tries and fails to move. She is staring somewhat blankly; the only constant is that Lucy hasn't released Alison's hand as they move back. Slowly. Lucy can't really move and dragging even 90lbs about is not exactly fast. Four men are encroaching. Two on the cliff, the suit who is speaking to Alison... And one who slips in behind them further down the beach into the rocks. Awaiting confirmation code. Central processor override acknowledged. Access halted. Please enter additional codes.
Dazzler	"Good, so if you know who I am, you know when it comes to people who are different and can shoot lasers out of their fingers or fly with insect wings, I am not one with whom to //fuck//!" Alison's back presses into Lucia's chest. Ninety pounds doesn't move easily, not when Alison's an athletic 120, but where Lucia won't budge, Alison squeezes her hand. "And you are //not// leaving here with her. Unlock..." Alison growls. "...whatever stupid access code you gave her and if she wants to leave then she will, but over my dead body you're gonna treat her like a cell phone." The sarong wrapped about Alison's hip shifts as she widens her stance, protective and low, curling to keep the suit making his way behind the two women, one cybernetic or not. Her outstretched palm splays, drifting purple and yellow light off of her fingertips in a harmless reminder that Alison Blaire isn't so different, herself. "Lucia?" Alison grits her teeth. "If there's any kind of super crazy nerd shit you can do to get your feet moving, now's the time, girl." Alison whispers through gritted teeth, eyes flashing to the suit in front of her, the one with the papers. "You willing to try to hurt me to collect a sentient girl on your corporate clout?" Alison grins, broadly, arrogantly. "That'll go over so, so well in public, won't it?"
Lucy	"I'm sure it would be very unfortunate if a certain famous popstar were to utilize her powers to assault officers of the court in their attempt to retrieve a rogue machine and ended up being injured while those officers protected themselves," the man responds rather drily to that threat, his expression hardly changing. "I- don't... Not sure how," Lucy responds in a whisper, still with obvious confusion in her voice and tension in how she holds herself. It's awkward, really; the way mucles ense and then flex unexpecedly as she tries and fails to maintain control. It ultimately just results in a jerky trembling that suffuses the redhead's form. "Lucy," the man drawls, interrupting her. "This is Administrative User Daedalus." "Administrator acknowledged." "Lucy, shut down ." "Shutdown order failed. Please enter additional access code." The man grimaces visibly and hakes his head, once. "Fine. Lucy, please enter standby mode." "Standy initiated. Awaiting further instructions..." Lucy's eyelids flutter and then she goes quite limp. Releasing Alison's hand the girl tumbles into the sand beneath her. The men have guns. At least one rifle is visible on the ridge overhead, nevermind the pistol that the man behind Alison and Lucy is holding. Only the speaker, Daedalus, appears unarmed and that might readily changed. "You are out of options, Miss Blaire. If you open fire you will be severely injured, if not killed." That is when Alison's phone starts to buzz urgently. Text message.
Dazzler	Bluff? Called. Alison deflates a little and waggles the light off of her fingers until it is spent. All that are left are manicured fingertips, blue, with little white flowers and a shiny bead tipped to the nail over her thumb. Her ridged abdomen tightens in her backward step, but all of the sudden, Lucia isn't there anymore. Twisting at the hip, Alison looks down to Lucia and her chest tightens. Alison Blaire is many things. She's a pop star, an actress, a powerful mutant, but she's //not// cut out for this grade of X-Files insanity, and it shows. Normally, by now, she'd be able to buy her way out of the situation or get her beloved agent, Mallory, to take care of it for her, but... Guns. Alison huffs a lock of blonde hair out of her eyes at the sight of them. One-handed, she swipes her phone's screen to unlock it and looks down to it. "I'm never out of options," Alison sighs, losing her grip on the situation. "And what we have here is a standoff, because if I don't glow, you can't shoot. This is Long Beach, not Kent State."
Lucy	"That's correct," Daedalus agrees. "I am not here to hurt you. If you don't glow we don't shoot." That's straightforward enough and the man finally breathes a soft sigh. "It's better that way. My daughter loves your albums." He frowns slightly, tilting his head as he does so. "And since we seem to be in agreement I am going to retrieve Lucy and take it to the laboratory for proper maintenance. There were a few of us who thought that making it appear so realistic would cause problems but we were outvoted. I see my prescience is on point as always." On the screen of the phone is two lines, each one a jumble of characters, leters and numbers, with no clear order or labeling. Lucy is still breathing but she seems to have abruptly fallen unconscious and does not move in the slightest even as the noose tightens. "Step away from Lucy, please. Or else I will simply come over and pick her up." Daedalus is walking over to do just that. The wind is blowing in the background, waves beating against the beach and breaking upon rocks further down. The standoff is tense at beast. No one dares breathe too loudly lest the powder keg ignite.
Dazzler	Alison's mouth grits wide in a wince. She mouths a heated 'damn it' towards the sand and her outstretched palm lowers a little. The harsh stance in her step falls and she frowns to the man approaching her. "Man, I--" Alison sighs. "--you had to pull the kid's a fan card? I don't want anyone to get hurt either, okay, but //come on//." Alison pleads, trying to move into the man's path. "She likes Starbucks and she's been learning how to cook; this stuff can't be programming. Haven't you ever seen that old movie Short Circuit? Johnny Five sees elephants in the tomato soup or whatev-" Alison runs her palm over her forehead and looks to her cell phone, eyes darting from left to right twice, reading over the numbers. She stumbles back a step, squeaking as she tries to not kick or step on Lucia's precious face. "Lucy?" Alison wets her lips and closes her eyes for a second. "Authorization code One-seven-Bee-Six-Jay-Nine..." Alison reads...as quickly as she can, the whole of the code.
Lucy	"This is not the time to be taking a call, Miss Blaire," Daedalus starts, rolling his eyes as he does. "Look, of course a robot can cook and learn. It can even mimic eating. But none of this matters. It can't even talk properly. I want to fix it, do you understand? Make it function normally so it can go on to be productive. Don't you want- Lucy- to be able to live a happy, productive, //sane// life?" When Alison starts to read the access code Daedalus blanches. "You don't know what the will do- stop! ...Damn it." He's about ten meters off now and reaches toward both women helplessly, shoes mired in sand. Then he twitches and says, "...Alpha team, open fire." Alison is finishing reading the second code when the world explodes. The scream of bullets is deafeningly loud; moreso this close to the cliffs. They are far loudedr than movies are able to safely show, probably the loudest thing you've ever heard. Enough that being nearby can cause deafness or panic, Clumps of sand explode in all directions as the rattle of bullet flying hits the ears. At that same moment Lucy speaks, "Administrative User Alison Blaire acknowledged. Transferring full ownership of directory... State command." The second rifleman waits patiently while all of this occurs, watching for Alison to twist or bend or look away. That's when he intends to take her down. Daedalus has a gun out as well now.
Dazzler	Alison screams when the gunfire sounds, the popping noise from the hammers coming down against the priming points of bullets filling her ears. She waves her arm and a semicircular dome of blue light flares up, shearing a bullet as it passes her too close for comfort. Superheated light made concussive is enough to deflect, yet not melt, the bullets. For all of the sound she's transferring into light, she can't block them all. With a move she learned working on her sci-fi action thriller, Alison twists on one ankle, lifting and sending the heel of her foot to the side of the lead suit's jaw. Alison lands in the sand. Superhero landing. "Lucy! End standby mode, delete user Daedelus from access!" Alison yells out in a crouch, throwing her shield up and crawling backwards towards her lover. "Get us the //fuck// out of here before they kill us!"
Lucy	"Blocking user Daedalus..." Lucy comes to rather abruptly, her body shaking like a leaf in the wind as Alison is stumbling backward toward her. She is staring for a second, looking around blankly as the world comes into focus. The girl is shifting in the sand, her slender body slowly sitting up. A bullet hits her in the left side of the chest. Shredded flesh and blood result, a small hole resulting in a great deal of trauma. Enough to make a splatter a girl in crimson. The wound is already closing. It isn't even bleeding. She looks around quickly, blue eyes intense as she considers the people urrounding her. Daedalus is hurriedly reciting the access codes again. "Alpha-kilo-kilo-bravo-seven-niner..." The girl locks her blue eyes onto him for a second and takes a deep breath. "A-alison..." Lucy takes a deep breath. "Stay down." The girl straightens now. Bullets frame her on the sand; she hardly moves to avoid them, somehow knowing where each will be like she is walking a choreographed dance involving death. The man behind Alison fires another burst of bullets. They strike the shield, sizzling as they evaporate. The shield is flickering under the fusilade as the men begin to synchronize their fire. Daedalus is panicking, meanwhile. Lucy looks at him and begins to frown. He starts to fire hire his pistol. Somehow, where dozens of rifle rounds fail... This one succeeds. Alison is struck in the lower abdomen, puncturing at least one organ to splatter blood all over her swimsuit and the sand. He had been aiming at Lucy. The bullets stop as the squad reloads. All at once, the hazard of matching their shots to batter down Dazzler's shield. Lucy is trembling, her expression one of utter disbelief. The tiny redhead's blue eyes go wide and she swallows, hard. Tears stream down her cheeks. She starts to scream, her voice echoing amid the abrupt silence.R Daedalus ceases to exist. It isn't int he sense one would normally think of it. He does not simply disappear but instead he is being picked apart piece by piece, all at once. he starts on a blood-curdling, soul wrenching scream of his own and for a second his flesh is tearing away bloodlessly and one can see the network of his veins, internal organs, being shredded and then thrown to the aether, ribs snapped like kindling and sticking outward then disappearing, consumed. The man behind Alison loses a hand before he starts to run as quickly as his feat will take him, clutching at the bloodless stump.
Dazzler	"What the f-!" Alison's voice is drowned out but the hail of gunfire, rendering the tirade of harsh language and disbelief a meaningless bark of syllables into the wind. Brought down to one knee, she grits her teeth and purges as much of the energy she can into the shield, but with every impact, it weakens. "Oh god, no. Stop shooting!" Alison croaks when blood, Lucy's blood, splatters onto her body. This is not happening. This is not- The round punches through an abdomen voted one of the best in the entertainment industry two years ago. Alison's voice is cut off at the white, hot feeling of a kick to her belly, and she is thrown backwards by the force. The shield flutters out of existence as Alison stumbles to Lucy's feet, a choked sound escaping her as her hand instantly goes to her stomach. Sand packs over the freely bleeding wound, and the sarong that was once white stains red. "Luc-" Alison shudders, lips forming the words against the wet sand. She sees blood, she //smells// blood, and with cold sand matting the side of her face and her hair, Alison Blaire's vision blurs. A flash of cold brings goosebumps to her skin, visible from above, and when the sensation of heat washes over her, Alison Blaire begins to twitch and shudder, going into shock.
Lucy	When Alison comes to the first sensation is that of floating. It's like laying among the cloud, weightless and peaceful. The first sensation to return after that is scent. The scent of flowers, of Alison's favourite, in fact. Then warmth, soft warmth pressed against her at the front, tangled against her limbs, curled closer. Then the white light bathing her eyes like Alison were awakening into Heaven. It isn't, of course. It's her own room in the beach house, laying in the middle of her own bed. Lucia is curled tightly against her now, her eyes shut. She's fast asleep, slender arms wrapped around Alison's body. The gunshot. The searing pain is suddenly crystallized in the mind, vividly memorable. But... It isn't real anymore. There's no injury. Not a bandage. Not a scar... It's 9:00 in the morning. It's been an entire day.
Dazzler	The first sign of Alison's waking comes with a twitch of shoulder against Lucia's jaw. A muscle spasm, aligned with the gentle intake of breath that would seem like a groan weren't it so peaceful. Waking into the smell of lilacs, just like the ones painted on her manicured thumbs, it's every bit as perfect as the dozens of flowers she has in her internet history, ordering them for herself in her green-room stays to feel less away from home. The half-groan becomes a gasp. Alison breathes like she hasn't in hours. The rush of breath comes against Lucia's shoulder, as Alison stretches out limbs that feel like gelatin to wrap about the other woman's. The memories flood in, waterboarding through the milky cloud of waking, and as Alison's smooth, shapely ankle curls around Lucia's, it jerks in sudden memory. Alison jolts awake. A nightmare waking. "LUCIA!" Alison wheezes, clad in her bikini, her sarong, everything she was wearing on the beach in the firefight. She digs her forehead against Lucia's and slaps her hand down on her belly, confused.
Lucy	Lucia clings tightly to Alison, moreso than usual. She's using that prodigious strength she hides, hugging her lover close against her as the scream begins and tucking herself in tightly. Alison can feel her warmth, the softthump of a heartbeat shared between them. Even. Steady. Sure. Small hands roam Alison's body intimately before lacing into her hair gently as Lucy strokes her skin in an attempt to calm her. Lucy smells like lilacs, it seems. That is what was coming to mind as Alison first awoke. The girl sits up slowly, blinking those too wide blue eyes of her as she shifts to meet Alison's gaze. She blinks a couple times now. "We're safe. I am yours," the girl murmurs softly. "And we're okay."
Dazzler	The sheets hiss as Alison pushes to one knee. Alison doesn't wrest herself from Lucia's hold on her hair, instead she leans into it, pressing her scalp against the redhead's fingers as she stretches her belly, glancing down, seeing //nothing// of the gunshot she know she's felt. Fresh tears well up in Alison's eyes, mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. Speechless, she is rendered, failing to understand. With a twist, Alison is brought face to face with Lucia, and those blue eyes, cast in watered glass that threatens to spill against her cheeks, meet hers. Even the strongest dams, however, are prone to break. Barking out a sob, a hot tear makes its way down Alison's jaw as she lashes out, gripping Lucia at the junction point where neck meets shoulder. "Was that real?" Alison demands, face sucking inward as she sniffles hard through her nose. Fingertips shiver against skin. "That was real, wasn't it? Oh my God, Lu..." Alison blinks hard against the onset of more tears. But something new, something careful remains in Alison's eyes. She remembers the pain, but the sense of death, as well. Alison plunges into the sitting woman, burying her face in Lucia's neck and wrapping her arms tightly around her. Safety now...answers later.