and i won't be the damndest bit fucking surprised.

[gimp]

newt

and i'm so damn scared of dying without you | but i've come prepared | resolved for all my life to wear a funeral suit | and don't tell me how | i'll smile and pretend and won't show to the crowd | and i'll go without | punish myself for not knowing about | this lie | that we're fixing to die. wings; pale grey, freckled, missing patches of feathers. one bad wing.

Comments

[pronounce]

[ enjolras, like the imprudent child she is, rolls her eyes as newt says he'll patch her up. there's clearly a lot more important things to go about doing than disinfecting some wounds -- she has to get out her laptop and start doing some research on these guys, and write up a statement, and look at violence and harassment laws, and a thousand other things, the list goes on and on. quickly, she pulls her hands away from newt's grasp and waves them in front of her face, like shutting him out. ]

I just got in -- It's fine, really. Nothing serious. I've got to start working on a case for all this, and take pictures of the injuries I did get. They fucked with the wrong angel, I'll tell you that much. [ because she's not thinking about herself, because what does she care about this one vessel she has? she cares more for the benefit of women worldwide, taking a stand, waiting for other women to join her and say no, we won't be beaten by men any longer.

she turns back to the mirror, eyeing the damage. lifting up one side of her shirt, she pokes a little at the violets and reds that plague her ribs, cringing a little.

she turns to show it to newt. ]

I don't remember getting these.

[gimp]

[ newt rolls his eyes to the ceiling and mouths "is this some kind of punishment" at it, though he really doesn't mean it; dealing with lucielle is never a punishment, even if she does things like get stabbed on a monthly basis. it's frankly a miracle his sister lived as long as she did in her mortal life.

still, he listens to her for as long as she's talking and then his mouth opens for a moment as she shows him the bruises; newt gives her what ultimately amounts to the Disappointed Mom Stare and points at the counter. ] Lucielle, sit down.

[ newt's not going to give her much choice in the matter, honestly, and he shuts the bathroom door behind him and even locks it, going for the first aid kit he keeps under the cabinet. really, it was a lot worse in the olden days, when newt had to patch her up with his grace and bits of floss. at least now he can use iodine. ] You're a disaster, you know that? A bloody disaster. I'll take your bloody pictures, but you better let me fix you up, after. Deal?

[ he drops the first aid kit on the counter with a thunk of finality. ]

[pronounce]

( despite how stubborn enjolras can be, when newt says his sit down, she offers one imprudent eyeroll before complying, plopping down on the toilet seat with a huff. even with her strong feelings towards injustices and righting the wrong that plague the world, she knows almost undoubtedly that newt is pretty much always right. far too mature for his own good, but she guesses she can't complain -- more than once newt's sense of motherhood and responsibility have saved enjolras from a far belated not quite grave. )

I guess there's no use in reminding you that you're the younger brother. ( but she smiles at him, all with warm, well meant intentions, a hand reaching up to ruffle his hair and cradle his cheek. her expression melts into something a bit more somber as she looks at him, eyes flickering between each of his before she knits her eyebrows, head tilted to the side. )

Albert?

( she doesn't like soulmates, but -- she knows. newt, and how he feels about his particular human, she asks to see if alby is alive and well ( if newt is happy and in his right mind ) or if alby has passed away and is awaiting rebirth ( and newt is suicidal ). )

[gimp]

[ pulling out his stupid phone (that one of his pseudo-siblings wore him down to getting "it'll help us keep in contact with you easier" though newt thought he could be contacted just fine with his crappy flip phone) newt takes the obligatory pictures, just humming noncommittally because he's long since accepted his position in this family as the caretaker. where lucielle is action, newt is reaction, soft hands when necessary but a stern glare when required. they matched each other as well as two siblings should, particularly two blessed by the grace of god, literally.

he does smile a little as lucielle cradles his cheek and leans in towards it, offering a small nuzzle in greeting before he breaks away to pull out the iodine from the kit and

pauses.

alby. his name still feels like shockwaves sometimes, and newt stops with his hand around the bottle as he has to compose himself, facing away from lucielle. the hurt and bitterness is so sharp he can almost taste it, iron in the back of his mouth, but newt rolls his shoulders as he turns back towards her and shakes his head. ]

Haven't seen him. [ "yet", the hopeful part of him would have said, hundreds of years ago. that part of him doesn't talk much anymore. but newt tries his best not to wear it on his face as he soaks a cotton ball, kneeling down in front of her before warning-- ] Ready. [ and pressing the disinfectant to one of her nastier cuts. ]