<> <> <> < <> * Rochelle takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. She sits up and rubs at her forehead. <> "Are you alright, miss?" * Rochelle blinks and looks to the girl a second time. "Yeah, 'm okay. Just have a headache." <> "Are you sure?" * Rochelle tilts her head. "Yeah. I'm pretty sure it's hurtin' like nothing else." She pauses. "Thanks, though." <> "Anders said you were pretty stoic. Should have known not to doubt him." <> * Rochelle shrugs. "Yeah, well. Don't think he wants to lie when the truth works." She winces at a flash and shakes her head. "He wanted me to meet you. I wasn't sure why, but now I know." <> "I was your age when I got wrapped up in this too, you know." <> That so? Why'd he want you to meet me, then? * Rochelle glances out the window, then looks back to her. She tries ignoring the pain. "And you don't look that much older than me." "I feel a lot older. Two years of working a steady job and doing stuff for Anders on the side has about run me into the ground." Huh. How'd he get you to do it? Doesn't seem like the kind of thing- * Rochelle grimaces and puts her hand to her forehead, fingers in her bangs. She shuts her eyes. "Sorry. The kind of thing someone'd just want to do." "Don't worry. It's crazy, you're right. I've just got a thing for public service. And Johann Strauss, but that's another matter altogether." <> "My name's Philomena. But call me Luann, please please please." * Rochelle waves with her other hand and opens her eyes. "Music, right? Okay, Luann. 'm Rochelle, but Anders probly told ya that, too." * Rochelle gives a small grin. "And I'm pretty happy with my name the way it is." "Yeah, he's such an awesome composer. And Anders did tell me. But you're right, this is all crazy. I mean, Anders goes on about Fate and all that, but that's just talk. What matters is what you're doing, you know? Saving people, doing good stuff. Like Samuel." Samuel? Who's that? "Another one of us. He's dying. Anders has promised him he'd be saved if he helped us. Samuel's the really tall one, and he's the most dedicated among us." "He was one of the first Twenty-Fours, really. He's on the news sometimes." * Rochelle nods slowly. "That guy. I kinda remember him. I guess living's a good reason to do it." "No. He doesn't do it to live. I'm not sure if he even believes he'll live, deep down. He does it to do something. Cause you've gotta do something, you know?" * Rochelle laughs, but just a little before the pain starts up and she winces again. "Nah. I don't know." "Well, you're doing something now." Talking to you, sure. Trying to ignore this fucking headache. But that's not saving the world. <> "You're also going in the wrong direction for home, but that's neither here nor there. We'll get you back eventually." <> "If there's one thing I've learned in the past two years, it's that every little bit is a piece of the whole." * Rochelle sighs. "Nice you know so much about me." She shakes her head. "Whole of *what*?" <> "The whole of the whole." Oh. Thanks for clearing that up. "Even though I'm not sure about Fate, I'm sure that you came the wrong way for a reason other than the fact that you've got a splitting headache." <> "Oh, right. I almost forgot. Anders said to put these on." <> * Rochelle takes them. "What for?" "They're for emergencies like this. Anders uses them. I don't know what they do." * Rochelle peers at them for a moment, then tries them on. <> "He says it's disposable so it'll go bad eventually." * Rochelle blinks once, then twice, and visibly relaxes. "Well, damn. Thanks." "Sorry I didn't get them to you earlier. I was too excited about meeting you." <> * Rochelle shrugs, offering another faint smile of her own. "I'm not that interesting, really." "Sure you are. I wish I was in your shoes. I mean, we don't get to do much directly. Anders says that's our Fate, but I think he's just paranoid. But I'd love to be out there helping you guys out more." If you really do, why don'tcha? Or are you stuck with whatever Anders says? "We've tried. Usually it ends up like the auction. Fire, shooting, all kinds of people dead." * Rochelle shrugs. She pulls one of her feet onto the chair and rests her chin on her knee. "When people wanna kill each other, it's hard to stop them. Lotta times... too hard." <> "You're as morose as he gets sometimes. Is that part of the genetic code for you types?" What, twenty-fours? "Well, I'm assuming you're whatever he is, or the headphones wouldn't be any help at all." Oh. * Rochelle shrugs. "That. I guess people like that are born old." "Huh. I wonder what people like me are born like." I dunno. What were you born like? * Rochelle tilts her head, chin still on her knee. "An' people like you?" "I was born rich, smart, and spoiled. Kinda grew out of the last one, though." Huh. Kinda the opposite. "And I've never met another one of me." Then I guess all you've got to go on is yerself. 's not a bad thing. "Yeah." <> "This is the last stop on the line. Want to get home now?" Sure, I guess. These aren't gonna last forever, right? "Nope." <> "Come take my hand." * Rochelle looks at her curiously before getting to her feet and walking over to her. She takes her hand without hesitation. "Wathc your step. Sometimes it can get rough." <> * Rochelle blinks. "Damn. Cool." <> "That's my power. I get to use it for work, too." * Rochelle nods. "Yeah, I can see why you wouldn't meet many like ya. Really like the power." <> "You gonna be okay now?" Maybe. Should be fine. * Rochelle starts walking, looking back at Luann and giving a wave. "Thanks for the talk." "Good. If Anders' guess is right the others will be back before too long anyways. And sure. Anytime you want to, I can. Just tell Anders you're looking for me, and he'll get in touch. Actually, you might not even have to tell him." <> "See you later." * Rochelle smiles a little. "See ya." She heads up to Kat's apartment. "Back soon, huh. Right on time." <> * Rochelle goes up the elevator. Up, up, up! <> Yeah, tell me about it.