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No. Not skipped. Reading people is a game of probabilities, and one played by all the plays filled with the only friends I've really known. You backpedal and wave the question away too hard, overreach. Clumsy. Deflecting directly back onto me is too elementary. Too predictable.

You bore me.

Inwardly he frowned. He did not let it get to his eyes or face. He left his expression searching. He did watch her throat. Her hands. Her pupils. "Diluted, yes. There are many potentials around you, Delilah, good or bad. I hope it turns out good."

Which was direct enough for saying this had become, in some part, a test.
"It's reasonable to be scared."

"It's natural. Instinctual. The want of 'a normal life', happiness, simplicity, love, children, a future and success. That is what is threatened, and that is all and more the things that people first jealously cling to to protect for themselves. The things that grief counselors assure children are still possible, " Quenton carefully shifted, getting up with the help of study planter. "Maybe they are. If you keep your head down, keep to your studies, keep mace in your pocket...maybe you'll come out without ever an incident other than that convention. If it is fear that moves you...reconsider going abroad for school. Staying in this city is a statistical Russian Roulette."

"What was it that you were adventuring for? Apologies, but even with this blanket, I still get cold fast right now. I've lost what little spare weight I had to keep me warm."

" The least I can do is get your feet pointed to the right direction. But I have to be getting indoors, and home is still some blocks away, or I'd gladly stay and debate all the problems of the world with you. You're welcome if you want, but I understand if you rather not."

The smiling while crying thing was a flag of unsettling possibilities, but if she lacked the coping mechanisms to actually deal with the situations that were going to come of involvement it would be, per force, cut short. Her addition of 'agent' to their shared wordlist was both an affirmation of his suspicions and he thought an offer of truce.

'Difficult' was a benign, polite way of putting him all things considered. Quenton looked at her hand holding the bag, deciding that arguing her taking it belittled the gesture. "Thank you for grabbing that. I've heard that evaluation before, though usually less politic phrasing."

The name Hannah was of interest, drawing his attention as they started to walk, or at least she walked and he hobbled along. His thoughts associations with the name were an amused, positive reflection- Hannah. Acrucis? She is pushy when she things someone needs to be taken care of.

"Is Hannah roughly your age, pale periwinkle hair to her hips and large blue eyes?"

"I believe we have. I can't imagine there's a large population of Hannah's in the world by precisely that description. She'd probably call me the same thing."

Refusing to go to the hospital at the time and having her help put me back in one piece the first time. "Is she well? I haven't seen her in a while. Too long to be comforted that 'no news is good news'."

If this is the friend that had covered for Acrucis, she might put two and two together about who I am. Which tells me more. If she doesn't, or doesn't say anything to reveal the fact, then Hannah hasn't shared Acrucis with her. Maybe. There's no easy way to know how much that friend, Phact, or any others that are helping Acrucis, would have been told- any descriptions of Thraen, the name at all, and the magic would interrupt recognition probably. He paused momentarily to take a deep breath, knowing that the sharpness of his so-called wit was slipping. The very day of release from the hospital was no day for playing games so soon. He missed the endurance and energy of health badly, having all spent in the adrenaline moments of initially suspecting she might be an agent. Now, if she ended up being as much, it would be the easiest starseed harvest ever.

Troublesome.

"I refused hospitalization, she refused to leave my side. " A situation not too dissimilar. Crossing the road to the old apartments felt like being an old man with a kind girl scout.

"Do you have an ID on you? There's a security guard in the lobby that requires them. Under 18 visitors are required to leave by 8pm." Not that he expected she was going to be staying so long, if she chose to stay at all. "I make no promises for the state of the place- its been a month. My cousin stopped by once to get clothes for me, but I expect she left the rest as it was- which is to say my music sheets all over the table and my plants and the window likely dead."

Acrucis mentioned speaking with the enemy, but it would have to be some sort of special foolishness for her to have said both a powered and a civilian name to one. Its so low a chance...Delilah couldn't have head it elsewhere. She must be safe.

Quenton didn't flinch to hear his name on whisper. He did nod succinctly, silently, and lifted his hand to the security guard. There were pleasantries and a sign in sheet offered for her with time of entry entered. Delilah was given an explanation of the under-18 hours.

The elevator wasn't far, and Quenton waited to say anything until they were safely alone in it. He leaned against the wall, supporting himself with the handrail that ringed the inside walls. "It is the same Hannah. Did she use the descriptor 'difficult' when she told you?"

"No, that happened months ago that we met. This was at the beginning of February. I've been laid up a month about, " The doors opened at the correct floor, and he hobbled out into the antique hall and down what felt like forever to his door. Thankfully, he'd prepared and had the keys already handy and in a pocket of the pj pants.

The door opened, he led in and left it open to invite her in, "Let me get the lights. "

It was as he expected- his composition work papers were all over the small table, the plants looked dead in the window. The rest was just stale, but clean. He didn't own much except art, art supplies and books, and those all had homes generally on the shelves or walls. Besides, it was an efficiency, so the place was small, all in one 'room'. At least Stroud hadn't left any of the clothes drawers that were nested in the bed frame open. "There's water or tea."

He hobbled in the kitchen pulling out at two glasses, waiting for an answer. He was thirsty, if nothing else- hospitals were death of dryness and the walk didn't have any fountains. Not that they'd be running this time of year. "The bag can go next to the bed. I don't expect I'll leave it much."

Which, thinking about, he slowly rummaged the empty fridge for the brita pitcher and refilled it. He'd want that handy to the bed as well if he was planning on not having to get up. " I tried to reassure her at the time that I was alright. I'd hoped that keeping my own calm, and being able to get her through the steps would have been enough. I guess not, if its as you say."

"She may be too tender-hearted for war. It isn't a bad thing, but it is unfortunate. "

Getting the kettle filled and on was the work of a moment. He stayed facing the wall, hands straddling the sink to support tensed shoulders. She needn't see the wry smile. Am I the only one who realized that the 'casual' anything was over the moment it was war and not a game? 'reassurance'. 'expectation'. 'separate worlds'.

He wanted to slap ever single one of these simpering, entitled teenagers and scream at them that It. Wasn't. Separate. It wasn't exceptional either- it was first world post modernism that taught them they deserved prom dates and weekend sales at department stores, pizza outings and homework. This wasn't the only or first war going on in the world, it was just the one happening with magic and in their home city. His voice came quiet, looking over his shoulder through his bangs, "Does it occur to no one else that missing leaders just means raising up new ones? "

"When thirty to sixty percent of the population of Europe died in The Black Death, was it limited to the yeoman and serfs? New nobility came from the crusades, from the merchants, from all the people and classes that remained. "

There are three princesses out there, marked with power. There are dozens of us in general. It is easy enough to order ourselves and rally behind what we determine our best leaders not as 'teams' but as true courts. As squads, battalions, armies.You could be a leader if you had the charisma, the strategic knowledge, and the raw strength.

He lifted his hand and wiped it from brow down to chin. "You are welcome to casual life and conversation. Hannah is welcome to both. You have repeatedly and blatantly ignored my tries to redirect to exactly such. I still don't know where you were looking to go. I'd offer to take you around on a tour, even, but I can't walk so far. It's going to take me a bit to build up again. "

The water was boiling, so he retrieved it before the kettle binged- poured a small amount to prep the small teapot, poured that out, put in the tea and set it to steeping with water.