savetheearth | [Closed] With a Little Help From My Friends

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[Closed] With a Little Help From My Friends

Who: Celia Connor and Eugen Lambert
Where: Celia's Apartment
When: A day or two after the pink light flared up in Vegas.
What: Celia has something important to discuss with her best friend.
Warnings: None to speak of!

Celia hadn't been nervous. In fact, she had taken the news better than she had expected. She was confused, maybe even a little uneasy, but she wasn't nervous. Not in the least.

That changed the moment she decided to talk to Eugen about it. She wanted to tell someone with a level head, someone she could trust. For Celia Connors, Eugen was that person.

And so she typed out a message on her phone. Then deleted it. Then re-wrote it again. Before she caved again, she hit the 'send' button on the screen of her phone. Apprehension washed over her as she waited for his reply. It came in seconds. He'd be there in an hour.

Celia left her cell on the couch and went to the kitchen; Celia was determined to put her nervous energy to good use. Whenever she was nervous, she tended to overthink things; she grew restless. She knew better than anyone that she had to put that energy to use, or she'd think herself in a hole, and she'd lose the courage she dredged together.

When Eugen knocks on the door, the cookies are on the coffee table, along with two cups of coffee. It's fairly late in the evening now, so neither of them should be drinking coffee. But Celia knows it's Eugen's favorite drink, so she makes sure to have it ready regardless.

Celia takes a deep breath before she opens the door. She forces a smile, even though Eugen has long become skilled at determining her forced smiles from her genuine ones. But if she puts on a brave face, she's certain she'll become brave, too.

"I made cookies," she says. She's only able to maintain eye contact for a fraction of a second before turning away. "They're in the living room." She takes a few steps down her hallway before glancing over her shoulder at Eugen. She presses her lips together pensively, then moves into the living room. Already, she's deliberating how best to tell him. There hadn't been many kind words written about the Numbered on the internet.

Celia doesn't say anything until the both of them are seated and settled. She has a plate with a cookie in her hand, though she's not sure she's interested in eating it.

"Did you," she begins carefully, "see the news the other day?" She should probably be more specific, shouldn't she? "With that strange pink light in Vegas?" she adds.

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Celia is looking down at her cookie when she finally opens her mouth to speak. It's difficult to put to words; what happened to her was definitely not normal. A small part of still believes that the vision was the product of work-related stress. She had been at the tail-end of development for a new product when Prometheus' building was destroyed in one of the alien attacks. Like all of Prometheus' employees, she was still waiting on news regarding the fate of her company.

But another part of her, the part of her who accessed the network and was convinced of his validity. She just wasn't sure she wanted to accept it.

"That evening, when I watched the news, I saw something," she says softly. "Something like a dream. I was being introduced to a group of people for the first time. I was really nervous because I knew this was important."

Nothing particularly new there.

"Astrophysics, mobile suit engineering, regeneration treatment, piloting," she says. "They said I was good at all of that."

Celia presses her lips together pensively. "They called me Anew Returner."

A frown forms on his face as he listens to her, knowing very well that Celia has become a Numbered like him. Any wish to keep her out of it as a form of protection is completely shattered by this revelation.

But even that disappointment doesn't warn him against the familiar pull of a pulse the moment her name registered in his mind. It's as if he's seeing a recording of her pulse, hearing the words repeated from the lips of a man he doesn't remember. One hand reaches up to clutch his head, Eugen groans, his migraine acts up from the sudden increase of brain activity.

He takes a moment to respond while he wills his migraine to calm down, "I knew you..." Lips pull into a straight line as he considers his option, he finally lets out a sigh as he conceded. "It's not a dream... It's a pulse."

Burying his face further into his hand, "Damn it, Celia... You're the last person I want to be involved in all these mess."

"You knew me?" Celia echoes, her brows slightly furrowed. She's combing through that memory -- that pulse -- now, straining to find some sight or sound of Eugen among the many bodies present there.

And then it happens. The second time she replays the memory through her head, she remembers someone. Someone whose curt tone very nearly mirrored the one he used the day they first met as Eugen and Celia.

"You had purple hair then, didn't you?" she says, her lips tugging into a soft smile. "I think it was very handsome on you."

Celia bites into her cookie, still smiling to herself.

He nods, pressing two fingers onto his temple as he contemplates how to explain everything to her. But the moment he heard the "compliment" from her, he literally snarls and frowns at his best friend. "Why does everyone but me gets to see how I looked like? This is annoying. I'm not having purple hair. You have purple hair." He ends the rant with an audible sigh.

Normally, he wouldn't have allowed his temper to flare but weeks long migraine that grows steadily worse is not helping with his mood. It takes him a while to cool off enough to apologize, "Sorry..."

Straightening himself up against the couch, he huffs as he pulls himself together. "I take it you've seen the network? How much do I need to explain to you?" Because he knows Celia is the type who would make sure she knows what's going on before she speaks up about anything.

Celia's reaction to Eugen's outburst is one of surprise; it was very rare that the level-headed engineer ever exploded at anyone like this.

Least of all, at herself.

She presses her lips together pensively, then mentally deliberates what to say. She had been honest about the purple hair. Somehow it suited him, even more than his brown locks did now.

It's only when he mentions that she has purple hair as well that she's pulled from her reverie.

Wide-eyed, she reaches out to touch her own hair at Eugen's declaration. "Purple?" she repeats. She frowns thoughtfully, taking the time to imagine what she might look with purple hair herself.

After a moment, her expression relaxes, and her lips tug into a slight smile. "I'm sure it looked nice on me," she decides. "Though... it might make job hunting rather difficult."

Unless, of course, purple was a common hair color where they came from.

"Yes," she says, "I've seen it. I've read the FAQ as well." It was surprisingly well-put together.

Celia takes another bite of her cookie.

"Eugen," she begins. "Exactly how long have you known you were one of them?"

Edited 2014-04-11 17:06 (UTC)

Even if he has calmed down relatively, he still rolls his eyes at 'purple'. "Light purple, or whatever shade art people calls it. Thinks it's lavender. It's not too bad." Shrugging, he clearly doesn't want to talk about hair color by this point, if the scowl on his face doesn't make it obvious enough to see. "Your hair is brown anyway."

Picking up his cup of coffee, he takes a sip before answering her. "A couple of weeks before the giant snake debacle. I didn't make contact with the network until the battle was over." He went through the entire network, reading everything before that too.

But with Celia being a Numbered now, he's pretty sure even if he doesn't tell her, she'll find out sooner or later. He'll much rather be the one who breaks it to her, "You saw the giant robots on TV?" Pausing to consider how he should break this to her because he's pretty sure she would freak out at him. "I was in one."

Celia sets her plate down on the table and picks up her coffee instead. She listens quietly to what Eugen has to say, her hands cupped around her own warm mug of coffee. She simply takes his words in, trying to make sense of what this means for her. For them.

And as much as she attempts to process her feelings, they come out muddled, confused.

It's all so frustrating.

"I don't," she begins to protest, her voice louder than usual. But just as quickly, her voice returns back to its quiet tones. "I don't want you involved with this."

She's looking down at her coffee, a muddied reflection of herself staring back up at her.

"I just don't know what I would do if you were injured."

He's not surprised with her reaction. To be honest, he felt the same when she revealed that she'd pulsed earlier. However, he's rather taken aback by her expression of worry that weights heavier than he had expected. But he understands her reason. Celia has very little people she can call friends and it must be alarming for her to realized that one of them would be permanently involved in a series of explainable situations.

Looking up at the ceiling, memory of the fight with the giant snake flashes before his eyes. Despite the time that has passed, it still feels a little surreal to him, and he's glad that he made it out of that battle in one piece. "It's too late for that but you don't have to worry too much. I'll take care of myself..."

Reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder to placate her, Eugen looks at her with a gentle smile, "If I'm injured, you need to be strong so you can take care of me. I would do the same for you."

Celia shakes her head. She knows that if anyone is capable of taking care of themselves, it's Eugen. But this was different. This wasn't something as mundane as making dinner or picking up the dry-cleaning. This was something dangerous. Something that could easily result in Eugen's death.

The thought frightens her. She couldn't consider a life without Eugen. All her years up until her first days at university had been lonely ones; she just hadn't been aware of it until the two of them met. The thought that she might abruptly, without warning, be returned to that time frightened her almost as much as losing Eugen.

These were all thoughts she'd never admit to. As much as she wants to reach out and grab his hand and tell him not to go, she knows Eugen won't listen anyway. The truth is, she's in no position to tell him what he can and can not do; Eugen is an adult, he's his own person and her opinions shouldn't influence the decisions he makes for himself.

"You'll take careful care not to get injured, though," she says with a smile. It's a statement, not a question. "So when you have to fight, I hope that you'll go out and come back safely."

It's the closest Eugen's going to get to a nod of approval.

Hearing that make him grins, not out of amusement but a sense of responsibility to make her feel better. He doesn't want her to constantly worry about him although he knows with the knowledge of the network and Numbered, that's no longer possible. He will still try nonetheless. "I will." To do any less was tantamount to betraying her trust in him. Unlike Melissa who was strong and capable of taking care of herself, Celia is someone who needs to be taken care of because of her sheltered upbringing. As a friend, some of that responsibility fall on his shoulders.

Taking another sip of the coffee, he considers his option in what to tell her. Much of the things related to the Gundams are still top secret and he's not about to risk an investigation by the FBI if he somehow disclosed something by accident.

So instead, he goes for something harmless, "My name..." well, it would only be fair since he knew hers now, "...was Tieria Erde."

"Good."

If there's any thought that Celia finds comforting, it's that her friend will be safeguarded inside one of those giant robots. She's sure that it's much safer there than elsewhere in the city.

"Tieria," Celia echoes. "It seems that both of our names were very unique."

She smiles, looking down into her coffee. "I wonder what kind of people our parents were like," she says. "To give us such unusual names."

She looks over at Eugen, her head tilted slightly to the side. "Do you remember your family from then?" A small part of her hoped so. He didn't have any memories of his family during this time. It'd be good for him to have some memories of his family from the past.

Holding the cup of coffee in hand, he leans back and stretches his legs to get comfortable now that they're through with the most awkward moment.

"I don't know, but I feel like giving them a piece of my mind for even thinking whatever they called us were fit for names." Which reminded him, "Though, I think it's possible that those are our codenames. There's someone else here who shared the strange naming convention and his was a codename."

His expression immediately stiffens at the mention, "No." His biological family is a sensitive topic to him and even with their friendship, that's not something he would willingly discuss on a good day, let alone on a day where half of it was spend in the company of migraine and discovering Celia's involvement in the Numbered club.

"Code names?" Celia's eyes widen slightly at that, but then her expression quickly softens.

"It's almost as if the two of us are secret agents. A-new Re-turn-er," she pronounces, drawing out every syllable. "Ti-e-ri-a Er-de."

Celia smiles. "To be honest," she says, briefly pausing to take a sip of her coffee. "I find the idea of a past life a little exciting. I want to know more about the life I lived back then."

There was just so much she wanted to know. What kind of family she had. Where she had studied. How she had become so practiced in so many disciplines. In some ways, Celia idolized Anew.

"Say, Eugen," She looks over at her friend. "Don't you think it's strange? There are seven billion people on this planet, and yet you and I were still able to meet again as friends."

She looks down at her reflection in the remainder of her coffee. It's still muddied, but it's happier now. "I think it has to be a miracle."

Listening to her, it only makes him more exasperated as time passes. The way she seems to be spinning these pulses situation into some sort of miracle suggests that she's taking it lightly. It annoys him because he feels as if his horrifying experiences, especially during the snake's battle, were being trivialized.

Putting down the cup of coffee, he turns to look her straight in the eye, his expression hiding none of the annoyance he's feeling at the moment.

"Is this really that exciting to you? A miracle? Do you think I feel like I've been blessed with miracle when I was thrown into battle with a giant snake in the middle of an earthquake?"

He exhales, rolling his eyes, "This isn't your romance novel, Celia. This is a life and death situation. In case you haven't notice, I and many others are under FBI's watch, some of us are on the run from the police because of these pulses. I don't care about past lives, whatever the hell they were. I care about my life now, and it's ruined because of these pulses. I could have died if it wasn't for my Gundam, so forgive me if I don't share you romanticism point of view."

Leaning further back into the couch, he presses a hand on his forehead as he calms his nerves.

There have only been a handful of times where Celia has ever seen Eugen get legitimately angry. And of those few times, he has never, not once, ever gotten angry at her.

This time is the first.

Celia slowly turns her eyes back down to her coffee. There's not much left in it now, just the faintest remainder of brown lining the bottom of the glass. And for one long moment after Eugen finishes speaking, Celia is silent. She's not sure what to say. Had she been more careful with her words before, she wouldn't have hurt her friend so badly. She needs to carefully consider what to say next.

"I'm sorry," she says, forcing herself to meet his gaze. She really had no idea how hard Eugen had been fighting until now. "I didn't know."

He didn't speak for a long while, keeping mum so he wouldn't lashes out at her again. When he does, he keeps his eyes on the ceiling, his tone softer and gentler.

"You read the network... You should have known how bad it can get for some of us. During the snake rampage, a lot of us were injured." He pauses, recalling the scene from that day. How every corner he turns, people were trying to either fight or escape and gotten injured along the way.

"Your company was flattened, wasn't it? How can you still go about this as if it's one of your romance novel comes true? What you said are frankly insulting, to put it mildly." He takes a deep breath, fingers pressed into the couch, "Don't... don't say those things anymore. Perhaps you're lucky to receive a positive pulse and it doesn't prepare you for what might come, but really, don't take this so lightly. You will regret it."

"I understand," she says. And she does. The Numbered who were fighting were fighting for the safety of everyone in the city, at the risk of their own lives. That was exactly why she didn't want Eugen involved, why she didn't want him to pilot that robot.

But... because of that, was it impossible to enjoy the good things as well? The good memories returned? The knowledge that friends from the past were also friends from the present?

Fifteen minutes ago, she might have said something. But now she doesn't. Instead, she poses a question to Eugen, one she should have asked before this conversation started:

"What exactly do you remember?"

"Several things, they are mostly related to the Gundams and space. I can't make head from tail out of them but..." He pauses, "...the fact that they're all related to weapons and war machines makes me doubts if I want to know more." Even if it would help their current situation if he knows more. However, he wasn't sure if that's a good idea either, with aliens running around in their backyards now.

Not to mention, that memory... It still unsettles him that that particular memory felt so strong and overwhelmingly sad. Just a name, repeated by Haro. And yet he felt as if his heart was wrenched apart. Just what happened to Lockon...?

He shifts in the couch, slouching down the couch as he bites his lips from all the stress that accumulated over the past few weeks.

"Sorry..."

And suddenly, it comes to her -- a surge of understanding. Gundams. She had seen them on television before, but this was the first time she knew, precisely what they were.

It's perhaps this knowledge that causes all the pieces to snap into place. Eugen's reaction earlier; suddenly, it made perfect sense to her. Their past lives, however exciting they might have been, couldn't have been pleasant, peaceful ones. And now it's certain that this one won't be either.

"I know that it's not much," Celia says, speaking more to the mug in her hands than to the brunette sitting next to her. "But if there's anything troubling you... about what happened then..."

She looks over at Eugen. "...I want you to come to me first."

It's the first time in minutes she's looked over at him. Her eyes are filled with an even mix of sympathy and concern; her lips are drawn into the same tight narrow line they find themselves in whenever Celia is worried.

"You must have been working hard by yourself for so long," she says. Eugen had to have known the dangers firsthand; that was why he was so angry with her, after all. "I don't know if you had anyone you could confide in, but... if I can, I would like to be that person."

She just wanted to be able to do something for Eugen, who had worked so hard up until now.

He knows when he drops the word, she would regains her memory. In a way, perhaps he's a little spiteful in doing so without warning but he wants her to understand. Celia needs to know before she hurts herself.

When he heard her offer, he feels conflicted. On one hand, he knows he's her closest friend but sometimes, Eugen feels as if he's being put on a pedestal because of it. That she would center her life around him, clings onto him in ways that might have suggest something else entirely, something deeper than just a friendship. He still remembers her confession (if you could call that a confession) and it bothers him that she might still harbor some sort of romantic ideals over him.

It makes him want to stomp it out sometimes and yet he couldn't bring himself to be cruel to her. He wouldn't mind it if she's not someone he cares about, but he cares for her. He could only hope that with time, she'll find someone she can truly love. And he's fairly sure that someone would never be him.

"Thanks..." He smiles weakly, wondering if she would become angry with him if she founds out that he wouldn't take up her offer when he actually needs someone to talk to. Not because he doesn't trust her but because he knows she wouldn't be able to offer the sort of comfort he wants. Someone who can tell him straight to his face if he screws up or if he's being stupid. Someone who could offer different points of view, one that isn't clouded with a sheltered upbringing. Celia isn't that person. She's who he would protect, someone whom he will go to to offer a shoulder for her to lean on, not the other way around. And it sucks that he can never tell her that.

"I'm not alone... The other pilots are with me, so, don't worry." He reaches over to give her a light pat on her head.

"I'm glad that you have others that you can rely on." Celia's lips tug into a smile at that. "I won't have to worry so much about you, then."

She had been worried that Eugen had been fighting alone -- that he didn't have anyone else to rely on. But she felt better knowing that the other pilots were friends with him, too. It meant they'd look out for him when she couldn't.

Celia finishes off her coffee, then sets the mug down on the table.

"I was worried," she says, her eyes turned skyward. "I didn't know how you would react to this. I thought maybe you'd get angry or tell me not to get involved. But..." She hesitates, unsure of whether or not she should continue. "I feel a lot better knowing that you've already gone through it yourself."

She rises to her feet. "I'm sure you've got an early day tomorrow. Would you like me to pack some cookies for you to take home with you?"

He nods to her and gives her a smile, albeit it coming off weaker than he likes. Still, after getting everything off his chest, except what he mustn't, he feels better already. "You always worry too much."

Getting up on his feet as well, he hesitates a little when she makes it clear she wants him away. It's understandable considering what happened but he's worried that he might have hurt her more than he thought he did. "I'm not in a hurry but I can leave if you want me to. Are you alright though?"

Because he knows even if she has something in her mind, she won't talk about it if she anticipate conflict of interest. It's one of her bad habit that Eugen has been trying to get her to change. "If you're angry at me for yelling at you, you know you can tell me off. I will take it. I don't want you to hold back anything."

If anything, Celia feels that she doesn't worry enough. If she had been paying better attention to her friend, maybe she would have picked up that things weren't completely normal for Eugen. How many months had he been doing this without her knowing? Why hadn't she seen it before? There had to have been warnings before now. There had to be.

"I'm fine," she says, clasping her hands behind her back. "And--" Celia lowers her eyes. "--I'm not angry at you. I just wish that I had picked up on this sooner."

She forces a smile, then picks up the plate of cookies.

"I don't always consider things through all the way. It's a bad habit of mine. I'll go pack some of these up for you."

She turns and makes her way into the kitchen. She sets them down on the table and pulls out a tupperware container from one of her cabinets. She still continues to speak as she begins to pack the treats away.

"What are the others like?" she asks.

Edited 2014-04-19 16:12 (UTC)

There she goes worrying again. Sometimes, Eugen wonders if he should lessen the amount of things he hides from her just so she would know what's going on but then he'll worry about putting different kind of worries into her mind. He just can't win this...

"You've been busy with work, it's inevitable you wouldn't notice if you haven't seen me often enough. Don't beat yourself over it." That and he had deliberately kept quiet about it from her too because he doesn't want to involve her with the network. Now that she is, he'll have to rethink his approach since she'll be able to access the network for information.

He grits his teeth in mild annoyance at himself when she went into the kitchen to pack the cookies. I should leave.

"They are alright, we get along well. I'm sure you'll run into them in the network soon."

Alright? Was that all he had to say about them? Eugen wasn't exactly the most talkative person she knew, but she somehow hoped he'd have more to share than that.

Truthfully, she was curious to know more about these people she knew from a past life. It was disappointing that Eugen was being so tight-lipped. Celia pensively presses her lips together as she pushes down on the mouth of the lid.

She hopes Eugen's assessment is correct.

Celia returns to the living room, boxed treats in hand, then hands them to Eugen.

"Is there anything I should know about the people on the network?"

His primary concern is to leave before things become more awkward between them. Though, he feels bad for giving her lip service because it's obvious she wanted details when she asked about the other pilots, he thought it's for the best. At least, for now until she cools her head a little and takes the situation more seriously.

Taking the box from her, he nods a thank you to her in return.

"Just be careful on it and don't give out any personal details. There're spies from the enemies in there as well." Pause. "Do not use my name on the network. If you must refer to me, use Tieria. I'll suggest that you to use an alias as well. Better safe than sorry."

Celia presses her lips together pensively at Eugen's last few words.

"Spies from the enemies?" she repeats. "I thought that only the Numbered could access the network."

That much she had gleaned from the FAQs.

He's just going to give her a look for even asking.

"Numbered refers to those who can access the network, not their alliance."

And if she read the FAQs, she would have realized that there were bad cops among them.

"Oh." Celia forces a smile. "Then, I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

Perhaps she was being optimistic, but she liked to imagine that the bad guys had already been arrested, alongside their corrupt police chief. Maybe it was silly, but...

"Is there anything else I should know?"

This is exactly why he's so frustrated with her sometimes. There are times when he really appreciates her optimistic outlook of things but more often than not, it's a byproduct of her sheltered upbringing and it prevents her from looking at the big picture objectively.

"The FBI is talking to all the Numbered. If they approach you, try to be cooperative so they don't have any reason against you. Otherwise, just be careful not to mention anything Numbered related in public."

"Okay," Celia says.

An uncomfortable silence settles between the two for a moment. Celia swallows before she opens her mouth to speak again.

"Thank you," Celia says, hesitantly. "I didn't mean to make you worry. And..." She presses her lips together again. "I appreciate you coming over here so late." She looks down. "But I think... I need some more time to think about it."

He nods, relieve setting into him when he realizes he can walk out now. He feels bad for doing this to her but it's for the better. The sooner they had that conversation, the better.

"It's fine. I did told you to call me whenever." Pausing to sigh, "What you need is time to accept that life is going to be different, Celia. And I hope that it's sooner than later, for your own good."

With that, he turns and heads for the door, opening it before he gives her a chance to come up with a reply or another question.

"Good night, Celia. Stay safe." He steps out and closes the door behind him, feeling the distance between them grows.

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[Closed] With a Little Help From My Friends

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apologies in advance for the self-deprecation

punt her

Re: punt her

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