[paris] short cuts make for long delays [lilou]

Everything had been going so well until today.

Ariana Laurier was on her grand Parisian adventure. She'd had a lovely week touring the countryside with her whole family--grateful to have everyone back and things at peace so they could take such a family vacation--and then she'd rented an apartment (a little on the expensive side, to be sure) and showed up at 9 am on her first day of work. Everything had gone smoothly. She was delighted to be able to use her language skills, profoundly grateful that people she met didn't automatically switch into English upon talking to her, and she wasn't even bored at work. While helping out the editors at the publisher her mom had called in a little favor at certainly didn't demand the challenging spellwork she enjoyed from her, Eliza Penrose's daughter had enough of her interest in the written word to enjoy the small tasks they let the foreign intern do.

However, Paris was an expensive city for everyone involved, wizards as well as Muggles, and she found herself forgoing experiences she would rather have had for the sake of tightening her belt. Then one of her colleagues had mentioned they knew a friend of a friend who was trying to rent out an apartment for an asking price that was 50 Galleons a month less than her current apartment. 50 Galleons was nothing to scoff at for a newly minted adult still in school. Ari's parents were helping her with this summer in addition to what she was earning, of course, but 50 galleons...in her mind's eye they turned into excellent meals and macarons and day trips to Provence, and soon she was owling her colleague's friend of a friend and signing a new contract. "Move in on the third Saturday of the month at 2 pm," it had said. Her current landlord, less than excited about losing her money, had set a departure time of 8 am that day, but that was just fine--her baggage had been sold with an undetectable extension charm, and she felt sure she could amuse herself in Muggle Paris for a day.

That was, until she got a note from the new landlord with a vague comment about a malfunction and a promise to let her know ASAP when she could move in, later that evening. Ari had gone through the entire Louvre like she had planned, albeit with a nagging feeling in the back of her mind. And then, as she exited past the inverted pyramid at 6 pm sharp, the hours dragging still with no notice about the apartment, she felt a sharp sting on her mouth. The next thing the young witch knew, her lip had swollen to more than double the size.

"What am I supposed to do now?" she muttered--or tried to. It rather came out as a muffled slur, earning her strange looks from a passerby. Glancing at her watch although she already knew the time, she shook her head and started to look around with a bit of a panicked air as she realized that she'd been effectively crippled in a way the passing Muggles wouldn't understand. While Ari was a skilled spellcaster and could manage a good portion of her spell arsenal nonverbally, she couldn't achieve anything above a moderate difficulty with any reasonable effectiveness, meaning spells that would help get her out of the public places she was in. Mispronouncing something could lead to a major magical accident she wanted to avoid. She didn't even know what her apartment looked like, she realized. There was no way she could Apparate to it even if she'd gotten the okay. And, she thought, she was hungry.

At the very least, she could get something to eat, and Ariana set out in search of food, thankful to have a good amount of Muggle money left. Maybe by the time she had dinner her swelling would be down and she would have good news. In actuality, neither thing happened by the time she finished her galette, and despite the long summer days caused by the French time zones, she had little desire to be stuck in the dark. Scanning the streets around her as she walked, her eyes lit on a single sign. Auberge de Jeunesse. Better shelter with the Muggles for one night at this rate than stuck like one of the many SDFs in the city until she could move in, right?

After explaining her situation in somewhat muffled tones, somewhat angry that the receptionist had switched to English on her before realizing that wouldn't make a difference, Ari found herself pushing open the door to a room with two bunk beds, only one of the four being currently occupied. "Bonjour," she said to the blonde girl by way of acknowledgement, though the b was less than articulate, and she was rather less friendly than usual after her combined frustrations. Normally she would have gone ahead and introduced herself, but instead she dumped her trunk under the unoccupied bed and flopped down upon it for three straight minutes before bringing herself to a sitting position. What she wouldn't give for some medical magic right now, but Hogwarts didn't teach it and Ari wasn't that good with potions and herbs anyway, even if she wasn't in a Muggle place. Eyeing the other girl carefully, she made a snap judgement. Probably she wouldn't make a comment if she saw a stranger holding a short, pretty stick, would she? Holding her wand tended to help her think. Besides, the lighting wasn't the best.

Three seconds later she slipped her rowan wand out of her sleeve and rolled it around between her fingers a few times, running through a list of options in her mind. Perhaps if she went outside and just tried a spell that didn't use her lips at all? She just had to avoid ms, bs, ps, fs, vs, ws...

Muggles were so cute. Or, correction, muggle boys were so cute. For some reason Lilou kept finding herself back in Paris lately, where her previous feelings for the city were neutral at best after the initial excitement wore off. Previously, she had her horses, her cheap beer, and her cigarettes; those were enough for her. Now, they were still enough for her, but Lilou couldn't help but want a taste of the city life. It was convenient to be a witch, that much was undeniable. It just wasn't terribly... exciting. Everyone seemed to be perfectly content with their domestic lives, working hard for their jobs, and then raising a family of (hopefully) beautiful children. Just the concept of leading a life like that made her yawn.

The muggle world was different. Things seemed more vibrant somehow, and even the dusty stained glass windows seemed to cast a rosier hue over the drinks she'd have in a quaint coffee shop tucked away into some corner. Slightly pretentious for her taste, but they were all free, so what did she have to lose? This was why Lilou liked the muggle boys she met so much better than the ones she already knew back home. A flirtatious little smile, a quirk of her bare shoulder; it was all so easy. She'd been mixing with the wrong crowd in Beauxbatons, or the calibre of the male species she knew just happened to be lacking- they were either only interested in what's under her shirt, or totally oblivious to the fact that she was a girl. Although it wasn't like she had a lot to lose.

And the men with their fat wallets! Wizards over a certain age tended to be a lot more suspicious. Sometimes when Lilou would reach in for a spare galleon or two, and she'd get a nasty shock from whatever spell they put over the coins. Here? Well... She might have spent a great deal off what she managed to take on clothes – which was not a lot, honestly – but she did send her mother a very nice hat as a present to mollify her. Judging from the lack of howlers that would have followed, asking her where she'd been for the past few days, she'd say that it worked pretty well. It also meant that she had been bouncing around in cheap hostels that she found through the random people she chatted up in dingy bars. Where she slept didn't matter- she was normally out most of the night, and she figured she'd get bored of this scene sooner or later and take off. Nothing could've been worse than when she had to share a room with Isabelle anyway.

As she was debating whether to get off the bed that probably had some kind of bed bug infestation in the past, a girl who looked about her age walked in. And she looked like a bit of a mess, really. If Lilou's mother had been here she'd have said il est nul and shook her head disapprovingly, something Lilou was frequently on the receiving end of. Nodding at the greeting, she didn't say anything in return but just watched, out of the corner of her eye as she pretended to busy herself with a brochure, as the other girl slumped on the bed for a brief moment. She was going to warn her about the piss stains she saw on the side of the mattress – which was something no amount of halfway decent sheets could cover – before the brunette sat up and produced... a wand?

Oho. Things just got very interesting all of a sudden. What was a witch, with some kind of nasty lip problem and the inability to pronounce things properly, doing at a muggle hostel? Was she foreign? She was probably foreign- she seemed too sensible to be some kind of runaway. Now completely abandoning her brochure, Lilou stretched out on the tiny, stiff bed that creaked when she readjusted her position to rest the back of her head on her palms. The starchy pillow poked at her exposed midsection; they really should do something about that too. "I don't think there's a spell that will get you out of here. Unless you're willing to risk ending up halfway to Germany or something." The seventeen year old shrugged a shoulder nonchalantly. She was actually sort of the superior one in this situation, and it didn't feel half bad.

"And what happened to your mouth? Too much foreign cuisine?" Lilou's mouth curved into a wicked grin, and she stopped there, waiting to see if the girl got the double entendre or if she was just as straight-laced as she thought.

"No, but there might be something that can help with the swelling," Ari replied without thinking. That was a sentence that only had five words slurred because of the lip. Surely there was something...then what the other girl had said sank in. Her head jerked to faced the other girl. She hadn't even been expecting to be spoken to, much less for whoever it was to mention spells. The whole situation took on a whole new light. "I'm...sorry, I didn't realize." Only two spots there. Why was she counting? She was suddenly very grateful that barring the lip issue, her French had only minor English accenting. The other girl had to be native French.

She sighed, regretting her choice to not approach the situation like she normally would have, and started from the beginning, although she was probably already too late to make the impression she wanted. "I'm Ariana Laurier," she offered anyway, though the French always defaulted to Ariane with her, since her last name was French. Why were there so many lip noises in 'je m'appelle?' "You must be a Beauxbatons student?" She hoped she wasn't off by a year. She could be a graduate, but then, why hole up in a hostel like this instead of somewhere permanent? The other girl was right, though, it was probably pointless. Ari slipped her wand back up her sleeve. This was interesting, though. If she went to Beauxbatons, maybe she knew Prosper? Diederik? She could use some help from a friend at this moment in time.

Her eyes narrowed, though, upon hearing the blonde girl's comment. Ari didn't catch what exactly she meant--maybe it was an idiom, she wasn't always on the mark when it came to those, it was the last thing anyone ever learned in a language--but the way she said it was just...derogatory? Disdainful? Ari was slow in responding, but straightforward and in measured tones. "...I was stung by something, as far as I can tell. What's your story?" She didn't seem like she was in any amount of trouble--just bored out of her mind, if anything. Ariana was uncomfortable already, but it was just one night, right?

Ah, a slip-up. It didn't really make much sense to Lilou, who had grown up in a practically muggle household, to have to try hard to blend in in the muggle world. But even so, where was this girl from? Somewhere really far away, like America? Did they all apologise so much there or was she the only one? Lilou had no idea what to say, but she wasn't that interested to find out either way, and waved away the apology with a lazy flap of her hand. Her French was not bad if it could be understood even with the muffled pronunciation.

"I don't know if I must be," the seventeen year old girl shrugged, "but I am. Was. Whatever." If this Ariana knew about Beauxbatons, she could be from either Durmstrang or Hogwarts. Probably Hogwarts- from what she heard about the Bulgarian school, a muggle hostel would probably be the least likely place for them to seek shelter. Lilou wrinkled her nose when the underlying meaning of her words clearly flew over Ariana's head. Straight-laced it was. There, that was actually fitting to the image of posh British people who were too damn uptight and drank tea like they breathed air.

Sitting up cross-legged on the bed now, she rummaged through her satchel and produced a small tube of lip product and tossed it to the dark-haired girl. "Happened to my brother too, if it's just a sting." Lilou nodded at the plain white tube, "That should at least help a little. It's made from pure honey and don't worry, it's safe. A friend made it for me." Technically the eccentric beekeeper was her mother's friend, and she made it for her mother, but it was never going to be used anyway. Now studying the slightly uncomfortable girl more carefully, she wondered if they've actually met before, when the Victory Ball happened. Ariana was probably one of the hundreds of people she brushed shoulders with that night.

It was funny how life worked out sometimes. If it wasn't for this completely random chance meeting, they'd remain strangers for the rest of their lives, never knowing if they'd cross paths- it fascinated her. For that reason alone it made Lilou want to be honest for once. What was the worst that could happen? The chances of them meeting up for coffee and croissants ten years down the road was very slim. "I'm practicing. When the new term starts again I won't be going back, and I need to know how it feels to be completely alone." And if it'll drive me crazy.

The other girl--Ari still didn't know what her name was, but she supposed it didn't matter if she didn't want to say, although continuing to call her "the girl" or "the blonde girl" or "the French girl" was starting to feel ridiculous--didn't seem to be that interested in where she'd come from or who she was, but she was at least turning out to be nicer than Ariana had thought she was going to be at first, and Ari felt a little more relaxed. Ari caught the tube easily, Chaser reflexes kicking in despite the disparity in size between the tube and a Quaffle, thanking her with genuine appreciation and applying a bit of it with a finger before tossing it back. Whatever it was had a cooling effect on her lip, and it felt better, even if it was too early to tell if it would make it any smaller.

Turning a little on the bed to better face the other girl, she cocked her head in interest. "You're...dropping out, then?" That would explain the switch to "was" that she'd made earlier. She was probably of age, though, if she was wandering around the Muggle world, which meant they were the same age. Ari would have known her if she'd been French. The Hufflepuff girl couldn't imagine dropping out of school, though--it seemed like her years at Hogwarts were vanishing too quickly instead of not fast enough. "You might laugh, but I can't imagine not being there for my last year. It's too fast already. And," she added reflectively, "we fought so hard for it." If things hadn't gone the way they had, if Voldemort had won, everything would be different.

"Sorry to disturb your practice, though, if a conversation with a stranger counts." Her lip was feeling a little better. "How is solitude treating you? You're not...leaving some people behind?" Ari thought the best times of her life had been built with other people, because of other people. Spending her time passing strangers in the streets, day after day, would make life start to seem more meaningless than ever. Then again, people fell apart, and sometimes she felt like rope straining to hold a flimsy raft together. She'd always been the supporting actor, she felt, and she wondered if, soon enough, everyone wouldn't be more focused on their counterpart lead.

Lilou quirked an eyebrow when Ariana caught the tube. She herself was used to catching small objects like lighters, which weren't the easiest to catch in a dark room, believe her. She didn't come across as the athletic type- she looked like she spent more time in the library than on the Quidditch pitch. But that was just a general assumption. Absentmindedly, she wondered if wizards had any other sport apart from Quidditch as she caught the tube between the palms of her cupped hands, and stuffed it back into her satchel.

Rearranging her limbs into a more comfortable cross-legged position, she hummed in response. "It's fine. I'm sure I'll be meeting nothing but strangers in the future." And this was the truth. When she would finally make the decision to leave for good, she didn't know if she'd ever look back. That impulse, the one that told her to cut off every tie that used to matter, scared her just a little.

Dropping out didn't seem like a viable solution to many people, but Lilou only saw it as the most natural step to take next. "There is no future for me in school, even if I'd stayed." She replied simply with a non-committal shrug of her shoulder. There was no bitterness there, only the empty truth. She just wasn't the academic type. She didn't know what type she was, but at least through trial and error she could find out what she wasn't. "And as for leaving people behind... we'll all have to do it, sooner or later. I just chose now instead of postponing the pain. Why wait to get even more attached?" An unruly mop of shocking white hair flashed through her mind then, and she desperately needed a change of topic before she actually felt upset. That's be weird.

"Tell me about the war. I didn't follow the news, but my mother's knitting circle wouldn't shut up about it. Housewives, you know?" Lilou rolled her eyes and gave an exasperated little sigh. Her tone was matter-of-fact, but the thought of her possibly being rude didn't even once cross her mind as she waited for a response.

i'm winging everything hahaha, which is why i couldn't find a way to fit in her giving ari her name in a non-awkward manner xD

The blonde looked surprised. "Chaser," Ari shrugged with a grin. People were sometimes surprised, but Ari considered herself a pretty good player after three years on the House team, if hampered by her broom. More and more people were getting nice brooms, and Jeremy had just gotten a Nimbus 2001. Trying to score goals against her Gryffindor friend on her Cleansweep, though it was a great broom, would depend even more on strategy than ever, and there was Freya's Firebolt. Still, Ari managed to score quite a few goals every year, and Hufflepuff did have great teamwork. She supposed after this many years they ought to. They had a lot of veterans.

Ah. She must not be academically inclined. Neither were some of Ari's friends, and she could, with a good deal of difficulty, see the appeal of leaving. After all, she must have her O.W.L.s, even though Beauxbatons students got theirs later. But even if Ari didn't need her five N.E.W.T.s, the people... "I know what you mean," she said quietly, thinking of how everything had changed. In fifth year they'd all been together all the time, but as sixth started and people began dating and focusing on other things, it was different. "But what's the use of anything if you don't have anyone to share it with?" The memories she made...at least they'd last forever. And even if they didn't, they'd be part of who she was. Other people were wrapped up and written inside of her.

The war...that was a confusing onslaught of emotions. Fear and victory and anger and determination and hope. Now, those memories really would never leave. "It was...long." Tilting her head to think about it more, she added, "You had some of our students at Beauxbatons, didn't you? A lot of muggleborns were on the run--or in Azkaban. My mother went...I'm not really sure, still. She doesn't like talking about it, because my sister was only 11 at the time." She should ask her anyways. "People vanished, sometimes. The Ministry tried to pretend nothing was happening, and then it was too late. Misty all the time once Voldemort had all the dementors out in the open." She shook her head. It had been the grayest summer ever. "For normal people, it was all about keeping our heads down and not upsetting anyone, or putting a toe out of line. The most people usually did was resign their posts, like my father. Otherwise, our families told us to keep quiet and stay safe, even though there were Death Eaters teaching us Dark magic at Hogwarts and torturing students." Ari spun her wand in her hands, her voice having gotten very tight. She'd been 15 that year. Just 15. Now she was just 17, almost 18 if you would. The whole thing was absurd, still.

"Some of us didn't." Her voice was soft. "We...put up slogans on the walls. Refused to torture younger students or profess the superiority of purebloods. Until the punishments got close to permanent injury. At the end we all just hid in the castle until the Battle." Did the other girl care to hear all this personal detail? Ari wasn't sure, but it was different for her to tell it to someone who hadn't lived it, and she found it cathartic. "Then we fought." How many times had this very wood she was holding been wielded to shoot a curse, and how many times had it been wielded to shield? Destruction and protection coalesced in the palm of her hand. "Not that we were supposed to be there," she said, turning a slightly crooked smile, "but I guess that didn't matter to us then. That's about it, unless you want a history lesson."

Lilou just shrugged again. She seemed to be doing a hell lot of shrugging lately- probably the only action that could really accurately depict how she felt most of the time. "You start living for yourself. "She said simply. Make your own memories, do things that matter to you. Like playing chaser, maybe." People were nice to have in her life for a bit, but ultimately they caused too much trouble for what they were worth. As long as she remembered what was important, that what she had was important, then it was ok. It didn't matter if everyone else forgot.

Done with speaking for the moment, she quieted as Ariana began telling her tale about the war. Several times, when she paused to remember certain details, Lilou thought about interjecting. But what could she say other than 'I'm sorry'? Awful as it was, she didn't think she was sorry. She understood that it was a horrible thing to happen, but no good was going to come out from her apologising for what seemed more like an abstract concept to her than a part of wizarding history. Insincerity, in her opinion, was worse than polite niceties.

There was a soft fierceness in the other girl's eyes. Watching her speak, it was like watching a storm in a soundproof room, and she was removed from the experience, only to serve as a spectator. She didn't know what she was expecting when she asked about war, but this was a heavy topic for her to swallow. "And here I am, thinking that my father's singing was the worst form of torture anyone could sit through." She matched the crooked smile with a rueful one of her own. "You were right, though; Beauxbatons did house muggleborns from your school. Not everyone was happy about it. In any case, if the tables were turned, I probably would've been one of those to seek refuge at your school."

Why was she being so chatty tonight? Normally even when she was prodded she didn't like to talk, much less update a virtual stranger on the status quo of the going-ons at a foreign school. But now she was curious, morbidly so. How much determination did you have to have, to pick up a wand and fight someone, possibly to the death? What did it feel like, knowing that you might never walk out of the battlefield alive? There were so many questions she wanted to ask Ariana; death has always fascinated her more than it should, but most of her friends didn't like it when she brought the topic up.

"So did you have to do it?" Lilou looped the conversation to where they had been a couple minutes ago, after a few quick moments of silence to gather her thoughts. Her palms were slightly sweaty, and she rubbed them against the rough cotton of the sheets. "Leave someone behind when you were fighting, I mean."

yup you were right, this got real dark real quick o.o

Ari didn't want to argue, exactly, but she still felt like the other girl wasn't making any sense. It wasn't as if while making memories with other people that you weren't living for yourself. You always made those decisions--that was why her schedule and what took her time were not exactly the same as what occupied her friends. But a large part of the things that mattered to her had to do with people. Her sister Kate's eyes flashed through her brain. Maybe it was just that Ariana wasn't capable of walking away.

The other girl was silent while she was talking, and if she was completely honest Ari was grateful. She wasn't sure if she would have gotten through it all if she'd been interrupted; it had been strange enough as it was. She laughed when the other girl responded, trying to lighten the mood, aware that she must look at least somewhat traumatized. The memories would never leave, and they were different because of it, but it had been two years and they were moving on. "It's all over now, though," she shrugged, trying to express the sentiment in her shoulders. "And it's been two years. I'm guessing your dad's singing isn't about to be silenced anytime soon, so it's got better chances than you think." During the war little things hadn't mattered--who cared if someone was rowdy in the common room right before exams or if one of your professors had been absurdly nitpicky or assigned a three-scroll essay? But if you looked in the hallways of Hogwarts now, you wouldn't suspect what some of them had lived through, and everyday annoyances again filled waking frustrations.

The blonde girl asked a question and Ari turned questioning eyes on her before freezing for a brief second. Leave someone behind... Fighting had been complete and utter chaos--it was hard enough to keep focus and your eyes ahead without knowing exactly what was going on around you. But there were a lot of white faces that stared at her from the replay of those memories. People you saw and tried to get to but failed because a wall came down between you and you had to turn and run, or people down on the ground with one other uninjured ally standing by them motioning you to get away. "Not anyone I really cared for, in the thick of it," she admitted. They'd been lucky--it had been her and Finn at first and then Skylar and some of the other DA members, but never very many of them at once. "But every second there was a chance you'd have to turn around away from someone you were trying to help because otherwise you'd both get hit, and you wouldn't know if they'd make it because you didn't know if you'd make it. Some people I know I fought with and I don't even know who they are."

"I got hurt, too, later, and I had to hide for a while," she added, motioning vaguely at her left arm. That curse had glanced off her, but it had still been incredibly painful, lasting longer than a Crucio. She'd forgotten it at the end, when they'd thought it was all over for the wrong side, and then during the last bitter fight, but she remembered feeling it hanging limply at her side while she did the best she could. No, she hadn't suffered like so many had, in many ways.

Turning the question over, she approached from a new angle. "I have a friend who would tell you otherwise, though," she said, thinking of Nicole's breakdown. "There are the students that were evacuated and stayed there like they were supposed to, who had to wait and not know where the rest of us were or why, imagining us all dead, the war lost. I know people who feel that they're the ones we left behind when we went to fight without them, and I can't really blame them, you know?" And who felt that even now, after it was all over, that that was still true, that they'd always be behind because they hadn't been part of the few brave and reckless.

Parroting Ariana's movements, she dropped her shoulders at the thought of her father's singing. It was strange how a random person could make Lilou think of her family, which was one of the last things she wanted to think about. She didn't want to be reminded of how her mother always left her knitting needles lying around, or how Isabelle always smelled infuriatingly of strawberries, and especially not of her father who rarely smiled now, but would always do so when she beat him in a race on her horse. Stupid, pointless, meaningless memories. It was a painful reminder that she was stilled tied to the ground in a way no matter how much she wanted to fly, and her wings would always be clipped with obligations to her family.

More than once she wondered if she was making the right decision- a question maybe Ariana could answer in time; her feet seemed to be firmly rooted and she appeared to be still functioning.

"But what if, what if it was someone you cared for? Would you have left them behind? Would it have been more worth it, even if it meant risking a more serious injury?" Lilou pressed on. She didn't know what she hoped to achieve- some kind of a reaction? The rational part of her said that it wasn't Ariana's fault that she felt her own guilt, however little that might've been at the time, for running away. The bigger part of her, the part that made Louise, Lilou, wanted to do nothing more than ripping up the shitty sheets that covered the shitty beds and throw it at the other girl's presumed righteousness. Instead, slim fingers rummaged through her bag again to fish out a cigarette. "Don't mind if I do." She said flatly, a statement that clearly wasn't asking for permission of any sort.

The cigarette was still slightly damp from a sudden shower earlier. It made lighting it with equally damp matches difficult, but she managed it with a well-practiced flick of her wrist, and with every breath of nicotine taken into her lungs the need to remain argumentative lessened. She had let the silence go on, not commenting anything else about what had been said; only when she knew she was about two drags away did the words come puffing out again. "Let's talk about your friend for a minute. She sounds like the kind with a hero complex. Is she one of those stupid ones who wants to go out with some kind of honour?"

Lilou shook her head in disgust, bending over and stubbing the cigarette out on the threadbare carpeting; one more burn for the memories. "I'm probably opposite of what your friend is like. If it had been her here with me, we would have gotten into a fight much sooner." Golden locks spilled over her shoulders as she leaned back to give Ariana an appraising look, mostly to let her know that the offer of a fight wasn't completely off the table should she choose to take it up.

@Ariana Laurier  i'm so sorry ♪～(◔◡◔ิ)人(╹◡╹๑)～♪

Ari didn't want to look at the girl at the moment while she was thinking, so she re-straightened herself on the bed and looked at the wall. It was the worst kind of triage--she'd been suddenly demanded to separate all the people she knew in her mind, to fan them out and then draw a line between those she'd give anything for and those she wouldn't. It went completely against her Hufflepuff instincts. You were supposed to be loyal. You were supposed to do the right thing just because it was the right thing. "Everyone's a bit of a coward when it comes down to it, I guess," she said softly. "We're conditioned to want to live." She'd lay down her life to save someone who couldn't help themselves, but everyone who remained that night had chosen to be there, for one reason or another. "It's hard to say, not being there right now," she admitted. "If I was their only chance, I'd have gone back. I had more of a hero complex back then, though. I was all of fifteen. Some part of me expected to die. Now, I know more about what I've got to live for." The least comfortable truth was that being the hero was often selfish.

Ariana ignored the smoke, having gotten accustomed to it, if not excited about it, in the last few weeks, and let the silence stretch on. It wasn't how she expected the night to go, so she was content to let it unfold. Opening up like this to a stranger was different for her. It was secure, because they'd probably never see each other again, but at the same time it was like leaving a tiny piece of her somewhere where she wasn't convinced it would be secure. "I think she's just..." Ari paused, and continued slowly. "Afraid she missed her chance to make a mark. And that because she didn't do it then, and she doesn't know how to in the future, it'll never happen. Maybe afraid that choosing to live was for nothing, that it wouldn't make a net difference whether she cut her life then or continued onward." Nicole was the only friend she had who really went to those extremes. Ironic, since the rest of them had probably seen more death. What was wrong with them, that they had done and seen such things and thought so lightly of them? What was wrong with her, that she wanted to keep doing it for life? It really was more sensible to want to leave this part of their lives behind. It just wasn't the right thing.

"Actually, my gut is that you might get along," she shrugged. They both seemed to have a slightly nihilistic world view, by the looks of it. Then again, they probably wouldn't have spoken. Nicole wouldn't have been stupid enough to pull out her wand, and too reticent to talk about all of this in depth. Finally glancing over, she caught the look in the other girl's eye and raised an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting we have a fight?" she asked bluntly. "What on earth about?" Who fought for no reason?