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Trees for trees' sake: there's a notion that makes little sense to Hope. No one harvests any lumber or acorns, kindling or firewood. To be fair, Central Park is in rough shape despite efforts to fix some of it up, but the place still leaves her with a bemused feeling as she walks down a path. The redhead's tactical awareness leaves few bushes uninspected visually, no shadow forgotten. Her pace is a bit quicker than she might like it to be. No helping it; given it's a breezy day and temperatures are below freezing, it's the only way she stays warm.
*
A body in motion stays in motion. A body in motion generates heat. Heat is good on a day as cold as they have been lately, and the lack of snow (and therefore, lack of ice… and icy patches of doom and woe) means that it's a good day to go on a run.
When Tommy goes on a run, he goes on a /run./ Usually throughout the tri-state area. Today? He dipped further North earlier to procure a handful of snowballs, which have been launched at unsuspecting people throughout the city at random. Why? It's Christmastime. This is what you DO around Christmas… and if there wasn't enough snow, it meant that people wouldn't feel jolly, and then he'd have to /work/ at actually stopping crimes.
Why go through that trouble when he could just pelt people with snow, right? Either way, the trip takes him directly through Central Park, blazing along one of the many paths when he spots someone who looks /very/ familiar. Someone he's had trouble getting out of his mind. Someone he has to loop around a couple times to keep from crashing into before he stops. "You!" he exclaims, victorious… and still holding a good three snowballs on an arm. The leather jacket's not worn today; water ruins leather. Instead, it's a more traditional winter coat in a navy blue color, and a pair of jeans to cover the legs. Because honestly? He can (and will) keep himself moving to generate a little heat, so he doesn't /need/ to layer as much as others might.
*
You might think, given all the cold in the air, it would be reason for people to stay inside. Hide away in bunkers under buildings or hole up in their apartments, tape foil over the windows, and try to stay out of harm's way. The world is such a strange and scary place now, the cold is really only a rotten cherry on a crap sundae.
Hope does not quite view the world in these numb, unhappy terms, but neither does she look especially happy. Rubbing her hands together or burying them in her pockets, her efforts to prevent her extremities from getting frostbitten means she moves - a lot. Palms are rubbed together. Fingers stuck in her pockets help, but then the rest of her hand gets cold. Her oversized mittens might be useful if they weren't wet, hanging from her back pocket to dry out harmlessly against her green coat. That misshapen abomination really doesn't deserve to be called a coat, more like a fabric tent or a reject from the weaving factory. She's busy eyeing up someone walking a lab on a leash when a shape zooms by. Her eyes narrow a little. Was that a blur or an incoming source of trouble? They aren't always so distinguishable.
She passes the dog walker in time to hear someone saying something to a person who might be her. Hey, it's acceptable to be vague when the majority of people yelling 'You!' usually try to murder her a few seconds later. The prickles running up and down her neck aren't very comforting, and she shivers under her sweater and coat, slowly rotating. Might not be too slow to draw a weapon if she has to, or run if…
"You." Yeah, smooth, Hope, smooth.
*
There's a number of things that Tommy's tempted to do right now. Throw the last of his snowballs? She'd dodge, he reminds himself. /He/ would. Stuff them down somewhere horrible and cold? … no, you don't do that to a pretty girl. Not until terms are far better than they are right now. Run up and hug the only person who's ever been able to get away from him? … tempting, but no.
Instead, he tosses the frozen weapons off to the side, and pushes the ski goggles back up on his head. "Been a while, Hope. How've you been?" the platinum-haired speedster asks, watching her close. This time, if she runs? He's going to be ready. He swears as much to himself. He's going to be ready, and he's going to /at least/ keep up if not win. Because he's the fastest, darnit!
*
Not throwing missiles at the girl from a dystopia, wise. Avoiding a hug, jury is hung. Make a horrible face? Lost opportunity. She slowly raises her hands to her mouth and blows over her fingers, cheeks puffing out like a squirrel. A very lean squirrel, to be fair, as no one who looks at Hope is likely to think 'Overfed' or 'Plump' in a thousand years. She hasn't much heat to spare.
"Chilling." Hope glances over her shoulder, squinting at the dog and its mid-thirties owner. The dog snuffles about the snow, looking for a place to squat. Smart to keep walking a little more, edging away from the inevitable strong stench of puppy doing his business. "People here are so weird. But the sandwiches are okay, so there's that." The speedster might be itching to see if she can move faster than he does, but right at th eminent, she's still like a cat circling another cat. "You still getting ditched by your friends after they order you all that pizza?"
*
The miserable cold weather hasn't brought much snow, just freeze one's face off temperatures. It's midday in Central Park, meaning the usual cadre of visitors meander along the paths. Fewer than usual, though, and most of those people are bundled in heavy coats, mittens, and scarves. The odd ones out are a redhead in an army surplus coat and a young man with ski goggles on and a navy blue winter coat, because apparently being cool means it's okay to freeze.
*
Teddy must be cool too. He's wearing a letterman jacket and while there's a scarf tossed loosely around his neck, he doesn't seem to really be noticing the cold since he doesn't even have his hands in his pockets. Walking along one of the park's paths, he humming something under his breath and enjoying being out in nature. Such as it is, in the middle of the city.
*
"'People here'?" Never let it be said that Tommy Shepherd is slow. Dense? Sure. He's a guy. Observant? …not always. Slow? Never ever. He catches that. Still, he does start moving — walking backwards and away from the wandering lab. Not because labs aren't awesome; because honestly? Labs are the best of dogs. However, dog poop is not exactly high on his list of things he wants to smell right now.
"Only when they catch me off-guard," Tommy points out, arms folding across his chest for a moment… only to uncross and start taking off the coat. Which is then lobbed over at her; the speedster's only wearing a shirt underneath, so it's /his/ turn to shiver, but she might notice his form blurring /ever/ so slightly. Moving in place.
"Put that on." he instructs, "It's warm, you're not. Figured I should change that." Chivalry? Yes, there is one, MAYBE two chivalrous bones in Tommy's body. They're likely in his pinky fingers. Those are the ones best hiding things, because nobody expects the pinkies.
Sorry, Teddy, but Tommy's not taking his eyes off the girl who can run like he can for the moment. But maybe the familiar idiot standing around in jeans and a t-shirt in below freezing weather will warrant approach!
*
Tommy might not be taking his eyes off Hope, though the reasons why aren't evident. She dresses like a thrift store escapee in clothes not really suited for her height or build, but focused more on the practical. Hands go back into two of several pockets in her oversized coat, then emerge when the coat comes flying at her from the young man. And who says chivalry is dead?
She snatches the blue garment mid-air, catching the collar and whipping it over her shoulder like that. Someone get a camera and catch a pose of arguably a really horrible editorial, but those angles work. "You're going to get cold, and you better ask for it back instead of being all heroic until your lips turn blue. Okay? I'll be fine."
Still, she looks about ready to put it on. Hope isn't the sort to fail to notice anyone in at least a fifty foot radius, sometimes more, and her green eyes dart towards someone else moseying about. Less interested in him, rather than whatever he might be humming, when it gets a bit more audible to her. "Um. Right, thanks. So you're doing okay?" Small talk is absolutely not her forte.
*
It's not secret that Central Park is cursed. Maybe not cursed in the traditional sense but given the number of things that have happened in it over the last few months, it's a wonder anyone still steps foot in it. Jaded New Yorkers. But you can bet that Teddy is keeping an eye out for anything unusual like giants or dimensional portals to hell realms. Someone he sort of, kind of knows wearing almost nothing in the middle of winter wasn't really on his radar but is noteworthy and he reaches up to run his hand over his hair. What? Oh. Girl with jacket. He briefly debates if he wants to interrupt but then wanders over in that direction.
*
"Better than that, I'll ask /you/ to stay put," …and he's gone. Seconds pass. He's back. This time, wearing a /green/ coat. "…and then I can handle making sure I don't freeze." Pause. Grin. "Although. If you're worried about my lips turning blue, I've got an idea that could prevent that, too." …ecause Tommy can't help himself. See pretty girl? Flirt. It's practically programmed into him.
"Doing alright enough. The craziness of the city hasn't exactly been able to slow me down — literally or figuratively." ..then he grins. "Remember Billy? Kinda looks like me, 'cept with more boring hair? He got drunk last night. It was /great./ I really wanted to get him a lampshade and push him at the nearest tab-"
…and then he notices Teddy on approach out of the corner of his eye. Hope might notice the /slightest/ of flicks of vision — the perfect chance to run — before eyes are back on her. "oh heeey Teddy!" comes Tommy's amicable voice, along with an arm waving in his direction. "Teddy, this vision of loveliness here is Hope. Hope, this is Teddy. We met him at the bar the other night."
*
Tommy levels of flirting, someone spare the world in its pain. Hope opens her mouth and the subject of her conversation is gone, leaving her to wait. Call it an innate sense of wisdom, or trying to decide which way she plans to go. Currently no stampeding or rampaging dinosaurs are on the loose, or winged seagulls attacking, so walking through the park might be a brighter idea. Just one problem: Tommy returns in green.
She looks at her own green excuse for clothes and then his. "Yeah. He's got the bangs that do this weird flop." Says the girl whose hair declares 'I am a soulless monster.' She is hesitant to say too much more there, but waves to the other fellow inbound their way. "He's mocking me," she says, deadpan, with the sense of humor God gave a cactus. "Teddy, hi. This guy's not subjecting you to too many bad jokes, right?"
*
"Man, is there anyone you don't show off your powers to?" Teddy asks, shaking his head at Tommy. "Hey Hope. He's not mocking you, he's flirting." Even after just a couple hours around Tommy last night, he knows that much. Probably five minutes would have done it. "Just humor him."
*
Now Tommy's making a face at Hope, sticking his tongue out wit all the maturity that God gave a grape. Then his attention turns back to Teddy, and Tommy just shrugs a bit. "What can I say? I guess I have a weakness for redheads." …and he's not saying that the blonde is /wrong,/ because yes, totally flirting. "…and seriously. Who wouldn't show powers like these off?" he adds, grinning smugly.
*
"Anyone ever hunted because they've got powers?" It's the answer no one asked for to a rhetorical question. Huddled in that blue coat, Hope might seem even smaller, though she's not a short girl, not really. Her fingers combed through her rather wild hair, she gives her scalp a slight scratch rather than acknowledge directly that strange tingle running over her nape. "He was showing you he's all lightning fast too?" She tips her head back at Teddy. "Gotta leave something in reserve as a surprise, you know?"
*
"The ones who burned to death in the apartment building that was set on fire?" Teddy adds his own example and nods to Hope. "He likes to show off." Another thing that was obvious after about eighty two seconds of being around Tommy. "You need to be careful, Tommy. There's people who'd attack you just because they know what you are. And there's people around you who might get caught in it all."
*
"You didn't hear me; powers like /these./" Tommy points out to Hope, waggling a finger in her direction. "Powers like these, hunters can't /catch/ you." Then a glance over to Teddy. Something inside Tommy darkens. That hit a nerve. "Yeah? Well, I'd /love/ them to show their faces around me." It's part of why he shows off. He knows he can get people out of the way and deal with things himself. He also knows at least one of the people standing here can handle herself, too. He's not sure what Teddy can do yet, though.
"Seriously. Give me /two minutes/ with the people who did that, and they'd never leave their houses again, knowing I could be around the corner. Just waiting to strike before they could /blink./" Yes, Tommy was part of a heroic team in the future. But he's not the cookie-cutter hero type, not by a longshot. "Better they try and mess with me than messing with people who /can't/ defend themselves."
*
Boasting doesn't do much for Hope, her expression changed little from something of a distant, somewhat guarded look at the world. "I get it," she says, "you want to help. You want to do good things, and help people." Hope swings her hair free of the coat collar and it lands around her shoulders in a flaming curtain, bouncing off the front. That's better. "But your friend Teddy here has a point. People who don't like your powers really don't care about who else they hurt as long as they get to you. Some of them even have powers themselves, ugly ones. So you might need to be careful. Someone who burns down an apartment to get to two mutants doesn't really have a normal way of looking at things." Hand run up and down her biceps, she utters a low sound that's almost like a sigh, but not really there, not yet. "I get it, I'm no fun. But the thing is, it's easy to hurt someone without ever putting a finger on them. Everyone has to stop running sometimes, and it's an awful feeling to… Never mind." She waves her hand, rendered silent. There's an object lesson in here, and she's swimming in dangerous waters trying to find it.
*
Teddy isn't going to argue with that. He wouldn't mind getting his hands on the cowards who set the fire either. However… "They might be as fast as you, Tommy. You're not the only one with super speed. Or they could have some way of slowing you down. Don't be overconfident and think you're invulnerable." He's had the same discussion with himself. "Anyway. You did say you'll be at the theater Saturday? Did Ava? Billy and I are going to meet a few hours before the show and talk science fiction."
*
Ugh. Lectures. Tommy stuffs his hands in his pockets and rocks back and forth on his heels as he's told what not to do and why not to do it. Will it have a lasting impact? … probably not. Tommy Shepherd is Tommy Shepherd. He's the one man wrecking crew with all the tact of a hurricane. "In all the years," …was it really years? It /feels/ like years. But time and Tommy have trouble seeing eye to eye at times. "That I've been doing this, I've only seen one person who's as fast as I am… and I get the feeling she's one of the good ones." Granted, because she /is/ a she, Tommy's perspective on the subject may be skewed. But that's a weakness for another time. "But even if they are, and even if they /can/ slow me down…" he trails off, looking between the two. "I'd rather do something /about/ it than hide out and pretend I'm something that I ain't while the world goes to Hell around me. But that's me. It doesn't have to be either of you." Or Billy, even. Sometimes, Tommy would rather it not be Billy involved. But he respects his brother when he throws his hat in, regardless.
As for the theater? "Yeah, I should be there." he replies, "Ava said she probably /wouldn't/… something about work, but I'll see if I can work my magic while you and Billy hang out before hand in order to bring her along."
*
Hope clamps her mouth shut, and stares off over the path. This is a conversation she is not willing to continue, and the coat flips over to show porcupine quills underneath proverbially. The real blue one comes off a moment after, and she gives it a good little shake in case any of her hair or leaves ended up stuck to it. It's held out to the speedster and she says, "Here. Thanks." No comment on the good ones, or science fiction, or magic. The doors are closed, the shutters down, and no one's home in that particular house.
*
"I didn't say do nothing." Teddy points out. "Just be careful about telling everyone and showing off. Even if they are cute girls." Cause really, the show last night wasn't for him but for Ava. And now it was obviously for Hope. "Just be careful." he repeats with a shrug. "Anyway, cool. I'll see you there then. Nice meeting you, Hope."
*
Hope offers the coat back, Tommy's not moving his arms; he /is/ shaking his head, however. "You keep it. I've got more. Growing up with two 'families'," Cue the eyeroll, "does that to a guy." …and honestly? He's not sure she /has/ something heavy enough to keep her warm. Otherwise he suspects she would've been wearing it to begin with.
Teddy, meanwhile, gets a shrug. "I don't tell everyone." In fact, he's occasionally tactful about it! Just… not usually. "But better the bait be the kind that can run away, rather than the kind that can't." Pause. "See you Saturday, Teddy."
*
"Nice to meet the sane one in the bunch, you know? Like to think you can knock a bit of sense into that one." Hope tips her head in Tommy's direction and she looks down at the bundle in her arms. "I can't. It's not right, I mean, I didn't pay you or do anything." It would probably be a wise point not to see her heels digging in on this one, a habit she couldn't explain if she wanted to. "What's a movie, anyways?"
The engines of past and present just collided and ran off the tracks there.
*
The sane one in the bunch, Teddy? Teddy, who Tommy showed off in front of as part of a racist-test before deciding to set him up with Billy in a move that one doesn't realize, and the other was probably too drunk to notice? Tommy makes a face at that. Then Hope's refusing his kindness, and he's about to open his mouth before… "…you've never seen a movie? Pictures on a screen, moving around and telling a story? Like watching real life, but usually more interesting?" he pauses to watch her thoughtfully for a few moments. Waiting for reaction. Then he adds, "Make you a deal. You say you didn't pay me or do anything… how about you go out with me? On a date. We'll get some dinner, go and see a movie, and whatever else we feel like. That way you get to see what a movie is, I get to spend time with a petty girl… and you've officially 'done something' in order to earn an old coat of mine?"
*
"No?" Like this is normal. It might be if she's a farm girl from 1963, Middle of Nowhere. Do they have screens like those in Nebraska? Has Utah come out of the Stone Age yet? Let those questions rumble in his brain pan.
"Not something that was around where I come from. At least not like the way you call it. We have other stuff." It's a memory jolt, the paranoia hit hard as Hope hugs the coat to her chest and tries to make any kind of sense out of her predicament. "Everything here is so backwards," she mutters to no one, eyes closed as she brushes away the frustration. Nothing can be done. Nothing that easy anyways. Time to pay attention to something else. "Wouldn't that other girl get mad? You're not a thing or whatever?"
*
Blink. Tommy tries to consider where they might /not/ have movies. Again, not the easiest thing to do with two sets of memories going through his brain, at least not until… "…you're not, like, Amish or something, are you?" Because that's the only way /he/ can figure out that she's unclear on what a movie is.
At least until she comments that everything's /backwards./ That's a line he's used in his head many a time, when the two sides of his memories don't agree on things. Tommy stares blankly as things add up in his head. The certainty that she'd spoken of the future in the past. Never having pizza before. Not knowing what a movie is. "Hope… you might think I'm crazy when I say this, and that's cool if you do, but it's cool if you don't, either." Beat. "Do you ever get the feeling that you're not… /when/ you're supposed to be?"
He waits for her reaction to that, and is happy enough to answer the other question. "An item, you mean? Nah. I only met Ava the other night, there's nothing going on at all on that front, not even close to anyting serious."
*
ROLL: Hope +rolls 1d100 for a result of: 63
*
"Am-what?" Nope, never heard of those. Or she is totally pulling his leg, and out to make him look like an idiot in revenge for some ill-timed joke. Blame whoever and whatever for that. Hope shrugs the jacket back on, maybe a bit more reluctant than before, but it fits funny over her oversized green and beige ensemble. No judging; clothes are expensive and no one here has the least idea of what a credit is. Much less anything actually identifiable as cash. Her fingers fiddle with the buttons, still chilled enough to need time to make the button slip into the hole. Fabric is squashed to her stomach and lumpy under the blue wool, and thus she looks up when addressed. "Sorry, I don't think so. Unless it's some weird slang you use for a redhead or something." Her nose wrinkles, implying she's probably heard everything under the sun. Except he looks totally serious about the question.
Her eyes narrow sharply, green flashing in the dark, and then she stops bothering with buttons. No pizza. No movie. No happy times. "You're kind of crazy already, willing to save hypothetical people from a burning apartment. Luring off bad guys isn't really the qualification for sane." Takes one to know one. "Get the feeling? Little more than that. I know. This is not my when. It never was supposed to be my when."
*
"I'll… have to explain at some point. It's not that important. Though I will say it's not slang for a redhead." Tommy replies, and sticks his tongue out. "Sane is boring. I may be crazy, but it may just be this kind of lunatic you're lookin' for. At least I'm the kind that keeps life interesting." …and, y'know, he's got some heroic instincts about him. Even if they occasionally come out more violent.
When she confirms what he was wondering? Well, /his/ eyes light up. "Mine either. Blame Billy, it's a long story, but I get the feeling he's got more than just a little apologizing to do." Pause. "Though, from what I picked up from the 'hypothetical'," his fingers make air quotes, "discussion the other day, it sounds like he might have done /you/ a favor." Pause. "He and I come from a when that's… probably a few decades off, at least? It's not a bad when. There's a lot of cool stuff, and people aren't quite the jerks they are today."
*
She'll have to take his word for it. Hope is not going to break into an argument in the middle of Central Park. The Billy Joel reference goes right over her head, suggesting it wasn't that big a hit or the famous archive of 27,000 Prince covers thereof never reached her timeline; a tragedy of epic proportions, that. "Interesting. We call things interesting that tend to kill you," she idly replies. He might be heroic; she's realistic. Which is the worse outcome in that game of cards?
His eyes light up and her expression tightens. "Wait. Apologies? For what? He didn't do this. I know he couldn't have, I've seen this happen before. Last time took a while to sort out." Her mouth screws up into a lemony pucker and she hangs her head, blowing out. "A few decades is like, what, 1989? 1999? I'm… pretty sure that's before me. I know about it, though. They had big devices that could only call one another and show things in flat-screen projection."
*
"If you look at it hard enough, anything has a chance to kill you. Go outside? You might be allergic to bees without knowing it and get stung. Stay inside? Someone on an airplane might flush some blue ice as it's flying over your house, and it'll come down to visit form thirty thousand feet." Tommy replies, shrugging. "Most things have a chance to kill you. Some more than others, I'll admit, but I'd rather take the chances than spend my time worrying about it."
"He brought himself and me back." Tommy points out, shrugging. "Not impossible that he's responsible for bringing you back, too. Which /I'd/ have to thank him for, if that's the case." he offers a smile to that, before glancing over towads her. Thoughtful. "I'm pretty sure you're right… but it's nice to know someone else who doesn't entirely fit here, too." Pause. "…silly question. Do you like, have somewhere to stay here, or…?" Her family should've come along if it's anything like Billy's and his arrival. But he's not sure.
*
A shrug answers the glib response of things to kill. Chances and odds aren't her thing. Let someone else figure out what the statistical chances of being hit on the head by a giant catfish dropped by a pelican are in the month of December. Not her kind of work, honestly. She runs her fingers over her hair again, trying to keep it out of her face and figure out the meanings behind what Tommy is saying, stuff that isn't shrouded in mystery and guesswork.
Wrinkle of a nose, and Hope scuffs her foot on the sidewalk. So much for being tough and badass independent woman. "I've got… had a way to travel. Sometimes the accuracy was wonky, but usually right. I shouldn't be this far out, and I have to find my… dad, I guess you'd call him. Except he's not really my dad, but I think of him like one so whatever you call it. If he's not here then I'm alone." And they're coming. With a certainty she knows that. "Just a matter of time til we meet up or I have to slide again. Ha. Bad pun."
*
Tommy doesn't do it often, but this time? Tommy frowns. Watching Hope thoughtfully. Letting the gears turn in his head. Running through options. Debating who'd try to kill him for doing what he's thinking about.
"Look. I know you think I'm out of my mind on some things, and this might be one of them…" Tommy trails off for a moment, brushing a hand back through his hair — the astute might notice the tiniest of /yanks/ to make sure that he's trying for eye contact. "…but even with the coat, it's too damn cold out here for anyone to be /alone./" Especially someone he can relate to in more ways than one; this goes unsaid. "How about, until you find your dad, you come stay with me? I mean, I can't promise the place is the Ritz or anything, but there's usually some good junk food around… and in the daytime, we can go lookin' for him. Between the two of us, we can probably cover a lot of ground." Pause. "Though, I don't really know what he looks like, so, mainly I'll just be tagging along for company and directions, but still."
*
Debate with a paranoid woman about where she is. Yeah, smart. Her tongue wets her lips and then Hope sighs, scouring her palms by rubbing them together. "This is nothing too bad. You have electricity and water, better than anything." A yank on those red locks is a good way to realize how fast she can — and does — move by abruptly beeping Tommy's nose in the time it takes him to start to blink, a rapid movement.
She considers the offer with a strange light to her eyes. "He's really hard to miss but if he's not here then he isn't here. Took me a while last time." A while that winter doesn't care about, or any of the seasons as he'll get here in his own sweet time. "I was offered a place at a school but after all this… I don't know, it might be better if I stayed on my own. I attract trouble. Bad trouble, the kind that likes collateral damage and doesn't give a rat's ass about anyone else. That's not fair to bring into your life."
*
"The kind of trouble I talked about inviting?" Tommy points out, inclining his head… and going crosseyed for a moment when she beeps his nose. Impressed. "Fact is, I can't make you do anything you don't wanna. Wouldn't want to, either, that's hardly any fun." Tommy admits, shrugging a bit. "…but, I know from personal experience that when trouble comes? It's good to have people you can count on around to help deal with it."
"Either way, offer… well, /both/ offers," Since there was the whole, date-for-coat offer earlier, too. "are on the table. Take the night, think about it. My number and an address you can find me at tonight are in the pocket of that coat. If it starts to get cold," Ha! STARTS to get cold. "and you change your mind? Feel free to drop by. Bang hard on the door. I'll be the only one home." It's the address for Frank's, but he's off in Vegas for the week for some kind of seminar. Which gives Tommy a place with a bit more privacy to offer. "If not? Well, I'm sure I'll see you around sometime."
*
The trouble he talked about inviting? He has no idea. Her head shakes slightly. "You don't know the half of what you're signing up for. These people… these people make all this," a wave of her hand around the park, "look like child's play. But it does not mean a thing cause no one here but me has seen it."
Her shoulders hunched up in a shrug, Hope makes a noise of derision. "I'll take the food and the … well… Let me look at what the place is. Gotta have a few things to be solid or something." She runs her hand up her neck. Can't hurt and let's be honest, the mansion is way too crowded and way too creepy for a girl.
*