Say You're Ready

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Backdated; March 15th, 2014

Impromptu decisions were something of a forte for the Australian. It was only really bad when she made a move to second guess herself; for days, she'd contemplated if she should actually do something for her British counterpart's birthday. And when she decided that for some definite reason she should, it took another few days do decide what that thing would be. She'd tried her best not to be distant in any capacity, because distant behaviour gave things away.

Absent. Within that week of contemplation, she was just a little absent from certain moments. Sleeping had been just a little more difficult, but she hadn't said anything about that. Then again, she was aware that she didn't need to articulate it for it to be know.

It must have surprised the psychometrist to get a message from the ink manipulator about meeting her at the art studio. The abrupt message alone was probably confusing enough, especially when coupled with the fact that Lucy hadn't turned up at her dorm yet; In the art room. Come visit now.

She figured she still had a bit of time, given how absolutely useless Penny was with answering or even checking her phone. Keeping the door to the room locked, Lucy tried her best to be as tactfully quiet as she ensured everything was perfect. But there was still stuff everywhere. Things were still out of place, and she was actively (read; noisily) working to fix that fact.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Cell phones were something that Penelope could really deal without. Yes, she understood why one might be useful, but that didn't stop her from actively choosing to not use one on a regular basis. So when her phone did go off, Penny didn't bother to look up from the dress she was fixing a ripped seam in.

It was only when she made the final stitch that the Brit looked up. She held the needle between her lips carefully as she reached for the phone. Her eyebrows rose in surprised as she saw who the message was from; didn't the Australian know by now that the best way to contact Penny was to just visit? Her dark eyes glanced up at the display time on the screen. Then again, Lucy was normally already here by then.

The message itself only confused Penny further, and she leaned back in her chair while she read it again. Why the art room? Why now? The message had been sent ten minutes before Penny had even bothered to look at it, so that made her already late for whatever she was needed for. Setting her phone down on her desk, she didn't bother to reply; she rarely did so anyway.

It hadn't taken long to get to the art studio, but when she approached it, she heard the sound of someone clanging around. “Lucy?” Penny reached for the handle, only to find it locked. “It's locked. Let me in.”

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Of course Penny didn't answer the message; Lucy didn't really expect her to, but some indication would have been more helpful than not. In the moments where she was a meticulous planner, she liked those kinds of boundaries. But it was okay, she supposed. It wasn't worth getting stressed about. at least, not until that fifteen minutes had passed and she wondered if Penny had even read it.

Was she even going to turn up?

The first thing she felt when she heard her name called out was relief. Overbearingly so. But then she felt a little anxious, because that fifteen minutes still hadn't been enough time, and the fact that she'd calculated that wrong was incredibly irritating.

"Yeah!" She finally called back, pausing to glance back at the door when she heard it try to be opened. The generous demand she offered next wasn't lost on the Australian, who contemplated it for a second; "Can't. Not yet! Just chill out for a second."

Lucy was all too aware that the phrase was going to annoy her. Because it didn't make factual sense, and she was going to be waiting for longer than a second. She couldn't help but grin through the thought, curling her fingers around the excess paint cans still lying around and literally tossing them out into the back room. Darkened windows made it impossible to see through - the minute breaks in the colouring hardly worth trying to glance through.

When everything finally settled, she took a spare moment as she literally fell back and slammed herself against the door. "Shit," She breathed, "Okay, I'm here."

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Yeah was not a proper answer. Penelope let out a sigh, trying to door again as if it would somehow work this time. Locked. Still. Penny took her hand from it and crossed her arms, staring at it as she waited.

However, the next statement offered caused Penny to purse her lips. “A second has already passed.” Oh how she hated that saying. Logically speaking, it didn't make sense. It was impossible to wait for just one second; the person waiting wouldn't even have time to register what had been said in a single second, so how could they know to wait for it? Even so, there was no point in saying it because nobody waits for a single second.

“Lucy,” she tried again, already growing impatient. The clanging noises sparking her curiosity. “I'm not waiting any--” Penny physically stepped back as she heard a slam on the door, followed by a sign that Lucy was there. The Brit shook her head at the swear, before reaching for the handle again. “Let me in.”

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

The impatience in Penny’s tone wasn’t lost on Lucy. It made her feel the unfamiliar touch of nervousness. The demand, more so. Because it was daunting – the whole process had been – and that fact alone made her question every move she made. Everything she was about to offer. This girl didn’t even like birthdays, apparently. And so she started to question herself. Again. Like she had been for days.

Was this even really worth it?

After another moment or two of glancing around, Lucy finally raised herself from the door and turned, moving to open it.

Every surface was covered. Painted. Walls, ceilings, floors. Tables. Chairs. Everything. She’d painted everything in the room as it had been standing to represent a fit a literal, perfect galaxy. Blackened like space, dotted with stars. Distant vortexes akin to the ones this girl had once gazed up to; now destroyed.

There, the flannel-clad Australian stood. She gripped onto the fabric of her clothes lightly, leading her in and moving to close the door behind her. Slowly, subtlety, the entirety of the space seemed to move. Staring at a point for long enough revealed new, intricate details. She took a step away, turning her back to the psychometrist as she looked over everything she’d done. Her eyes picked up details she wasn’t happy with, and she pursed her lips at the thought that it wasn’t perfect. She should have waited before she sent that message. Even a few extra minutes would have made it less frantic.

“I-” Lucy started, glad in that moment that she wasn’t looking at her. “It’s only temporary. I told them I’d take it down. I got permission, I-” She explained, unsure as to why this was the first thing she was leading with; “It’s all handled, it’s just-”

Lucy glanced over her exposed shoulder to her counterpart; the flannel she wore had fallen off her shoulders long ago, and she’d still made no move to fix it. The words caught in her throat as she went to explain what it was all for. Her jaw dropped as she stepped to actually turn around; still nothing. Not even a comforting swear passed her lips.

And that was even more daunting.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

The first thing Penny focused on when the door opened was Lucy, her dark eyes settling on the paint splattered Australian. She opened her mouth, about to ask why she was there. Why they weren't in her dormitory. Why Lucy had demanded she meet her immediately.

But something else caught her eye before she could speak.

The sight forced her words to catch in her throat as she stared at what was once the art studio. Silently, she followed as she felt Lucy pull at the fabric of her dress. She didn't even register the door closing as she looked around. Every time her gaze fell on a single spot, she found more details than before. Clusters of stars caught her attention; the vast blackness taking the air from her lungs.

There were no mistakes, even if the artist thought so herself. It was beautiful. Astonishing. There wasn't a single word that could describe the world she suddenly felt immersed in. Even as Lucy started to speak, Penny couldn't bring herself to pull her gaze away from the galaxy that surrounded her.

She was nervous. It was clear in her voice. The way she spoke. As the Australian tried to explain, Penny reached out, intertwining their fingers as she took hold of Lucy's hand. “Shut up, Lucy.” A smile pulled at her lips, although she still didn't look at her counterpart, dark eyes remaining focused on trying to catch every miniscule detail. “I love it.”

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

If nothing else, Lucy could register that the look on her face wasn't necessarily a bad one. It was just damn near impossible to read. And that fact made Lucy feel even more nervous. She didn't envy those who so frequently got caught in the emotion; it was damn near sickening.

She opened her mouth to speak, but faltered when told to shut up. She glanced down at the familiar hand that caught her own, immediately squeezing it for the life line it was. This was unnerving. She felt vulnerable, and she didn't like it. But she wanted to do something for her anyway. Logically, it wasn't an equal exchange. But for Penny, Lucy didn't care.

"Your birthday." Lucy continued on, "It's for your birthday. Which was last week, yeah. But I wasn't even sure you wanted it to be an important thing, and then I didn't know if I even should do anythimg because you-" She paused, taking a quick breath to stop herself from continuing on.

She didn't need to continually repeat herself. "I dunno if you even liked the last one I did." The ink manipulator added, twitching with the feeling that she should draw her hand away.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penny wasn't sure what brought this on. Why Lucy had gone through all this effort for her. She didn't ask, either. Asking felt like it would only make it seem like Penny was questioning her, as if she didn't appreciate it, so instead she continued to hold onto the Australian's hand, refusing to let go.

It was only when Lucy spoke again that Penny finally turned to look at her. She raised her eyebrows, genuinely surprised. She immediately wondered how the ink manipulator knew it had been her birthday; she was completely unaware that Lucy and Michael had met, and she hadn't told her, either. The continued explanation only adding to her surprise. It was rare to see Lucy on edge like this, and the fact that she was in itself was endearing.

She felt familiar fingers twitched, and in response tugged at the hand to pull Lucy closer to herself. Her smile had faltered when the subject of her painfully blank ceiling was brought up, and the Brit took in a short breath, her eyes moving back to the space around her. She remained silent for a few more moments, continuing to take everything in. The art room. The fact that someone did this for her. That she did this for her. Even with the sore subject, Penny couldn't stop her smile from returning. A real, genuine smile. “I said, shut up.” Another pause as she sucked in a breath. "Thank you."

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

As much as Lucy found herself caught in the expression Penny was offering, she decided to overlook it. She didn't have the means to explain how she knew about her birthday, just that she knew. The fact that she knew was more than enough. Besides, it wasn't really the time to bring up the overtly awkward conversation she had with Penny's brother, let alone the fact that she met him.

And that he knew.

Before she could pull her hand away, Penny was drawing her inward. And Lucy was letting her - she didn't really have the capacity to deny her at the best of times, and now was no different. In hindsight, Lucy would realise she shouldn't have brought up the prior galaxy she'd given this girl, but in that moment it felt imperative. It felt like a question. One that... Still wasn't answered.

Lucy felt the pressure building again when she went silent, looking around the room. Was she appreciating it, or was she simply scrutinising the surroundings she'd offered? The way each and every molecule of paint atop the black moved and shifted almost insignificantly. It took ample concentration, and possibly added to the frantic nature the ink manipulator was offering, but she couldn't register that. She couldn't understand her own actions.

Her eyebrows rose when Penny told her to shut up again. When she thanked her, she desperately wanted to lean in and kiss her; her gaze travelled quickly down to her mouth before back to her face again.

Nope. It wasn't enough.

"If you don't like it, you can say so. Really, it's okay. I-" She started, her eyebrows furrowing in her own confusion. She tried to offer neutral conviction, but failed intently. "You don't even really like your birthday. Shit," Raising her free hand, she ran it along her face before her fingers settled on her jaw, scratching the non-existent itch she felt. "It's too much."

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

As she pulled the ink manipulator in, Penny’s free hand traveled lightly up the length of her arm, fingertips lingering on the lion to run through its mane idly. She watched as the paint shifted, eyes following along the smallest of details as continued to stare.

“Lucy—“ she was going at it again. The frantic behavior. The insecurity of it. She offered another squeeze of Lucy’s hand, trying to pull her from the state of mind. “Lucy.” Still, the ink manipulator went on.

Her eyes shifted back to Lucy, watching as she ran her nails along her jaw line. The action in itself was enough to show that Lucy was edgy; it was something she had always done. Her hand continued to travel upward before settling on the Australian’s neck, fingers curling behind it.

“I love--” you. “--it.” She sucked in a slow breath, the word threatened to pass her lips. The weight of it causing Penny to press her lips into a hard line as she stared back at Lucy with a dumbfound realization. She loved Lucy. She wanted to say it. To tell her. Even as she was only just admitting it to herself.

Penny felt her heartbeat quicken. Her breath catch in her throat as she pulled Lucy in and kissed her.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Admittedly, it was difficult for the ink that painted the manipulator's form to interact with those around her. They were akin and attuned to her moves - her feelings, choices and perceptions. But they were steadily growing used to her. Each and every time she chose to interact, the movements and responses got a little smoother; the mane moved for her fingers as best it could. To show the progression. The comfort and care.

But as Penny spoke, Lucy didn't stop. Even after the second time her name was called, she still missed it. Because she didn't want to give her a chance to agree with the statements offered until it was over - said and set in stone that at least outwardly, she was okay if this was too much.

It wasn't until she felt a hand around her neck that she really moved to pay attention again. To at least try to listen. She dropped her jaw to speak but faltered, because she didn't know what else she could say to project herself and shield what she'd done.

This time, she heard the words as they were offered. Lucy dropped a fair percentage of the nervous energy she was carrying, exhaling a sigh. But the look on her face was jarring. Lucy chalked it all up to the fact that Penny was connecting with the weight of the gesture; she was likely realising its importance. Rather than speaking, or being able to speak, Lucy was drawn in to kiss her counterpart. And she welcomed it, releasing their intertwined hands and drawing her in closer. Relief carried her through the rest of pressure she was feeling.

She appreciated it. She did.

Drawing back slowly, Lucy broke the kiss in favour of eye contact. But she didn't stray far. She never did.

"You remind me of," Lucy paused, wanting to look away but opting not to. Instead, she searched for the correct ending in her eyes; "This."

Explaining herself was suddenly not her forte.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penny was thankful her counterpart reciprocated the kiss; in that moment Penny had lost the ability to speak. For a girl who loved words, Penny could never find the right way to articulate what Lucy meant to her verbally, and again she found this was the case. She couldn’t say it, but she tried to express it through physical action. It made more sense.

A slow breath escaped her lips as she felt Lucy pull away, and she opened her eyes to find her dark ones staring back at her. Just as Lucy didn’t break eye contact, Penny kept her gaze fixed on the Australian. She didn’t have to look away to understand what the ink manipulator was referring to, even if the wasn’t quite sure of the meaning behind the statement itself.

Still, she felt the weight of the words. She saw it in her counterpart’s eyes. This was a huge project for the ink manipulator to take on, and the meaning behind it was even more so. “I—“ Penny tried slowly, unsure how to respond. How did you respond to this? She remained silent, trying to express herself through the eye contact provided.

“…I wish I hadn’t.” she said finally, taking in a breath as she studied Lucy’s expression. “Painted over it.” She pressed her lips into a hard line as she resisted the urge to look away. It was hard to say, and harder when she was under her gaze. Still, she kept the ever imperative eye contact. “I regret doing it.” Her thumb ran lightly behind Lucy’s ear, using the contact as a type of lifeline between them. She couldn’t let go.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

The Australian was used to having clear moments of perfect explanation. She knew exactly why she'd made this choice - why she opted for a slow burning galaxy that could envelope an individual entirely - but those words were almost impossible to offer. There were lines; defining landmarks as to how far she could go with all this. And that felt like a step too far into the unknown.

She felt the uncomfortable touch of failure. But she tried not to make it clear.

Her eyebrows twitched up once when Penny started. She honestly hadn't expected her to say that. To talk about that.

"Don't." Lucy replied, almost instantly. She didn't want it to become something like that - something worth regretting. "That's not what this is about. I don't want-" Pausing, Lucy felt the desire to look away. She did raise a hand, opting to run her fingers across the line of her hair so it didn't fall out if place. "It's just... You're worth the effort." And while she knew there were so many other expressive statements she could have chosen, Lucy opted for that which felt most fitting.

She took a step back, easing out of her grasp as she turned around and took idle steps through the room. Her eyebrows lowered when she brought herself closer to one of the tables, and she crossed and over the matte black surface. As if a discripency had caught her eye, and she was suddenly desperate to fix it.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Staring up at the blank ceiling was painful, especially when she was sleeping at her side. Penelope had never not regretted the action, especially after seeing Lucy's reaction to it. So when the Australian told her not to regret it, her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

She opened her mouth to reply, but she failed to actually say anything in response when Lucy finished. The idea of being worth such effort was beyond the psychometrist, and she tried to hide the confusion in her eyes as she processed the statement. She was worth the effort. To her.

When the Australian stepped away, Penny's fingers twitched as she felt the familiar hand ease out of her grasp. Penny herself didn't move, instead choosing to shift her focus to travel along the star filled canvas, her dark eyes taking in details she hadn't caught before.

When her gaze once again fell on Lucy, she caught sight of the ink manipulator focused in on a particular spot. Only then did she seek to minimize the distance that was just put between them, and still she fell short of the Australian, choosing to stop just behind her.

Although she couldn't see Lucy's eyes, she tried her best to follow where she was looking, at what had grabbed her attention. To the Brit, there was no discrepancy. Every mark made was seemed to fit flawlessly in the galaxy painted before her. She glanced upward, looking at the ceiling. “This is beautiful.” she stated softly, taking in a breath. It was; each detail fell into place as naturally the stars that speckled the night sky. Had she been aware the ink manipulator found fault in the spot she looked at, she would had stopped her from attempting to fix it.

“Is this why you haven't been around?” she asked finally, eyes still fixed on a par cluster on the ceiling.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Had Lucy been in a better state of mind, she might have caught the confusion in her counterpart's eyes. But as it stood, she missed it. She'd said the imperative statement - the one she'd been carrying for hours now - and pressing forward was all that was left to do.

Smoothing out the seemingly invisible lines on the table, Lucy breezed the remaining black from her hand, brushing it back across to even the depiction with precision. She ran her index finger across her forearm, drawling forth a small amount of the muted grey she wore before opting to press her finger down onto the table slowly; repetitively. She raised her free hand towards her, waving her over if she wanted to stand closer.

"Yeah." She replied, though she knew there were a handful of better responses to give instead. She knew it was deemed beautiful, but she still wanted to make it truly worth the word. Worth her attention.

The fingerprints she left on the surface slowly started to divide; each broken line becoming miniscule splinters. Traversing the table top, the muted shade tracked to the alotted, dotted stars. The difference was minute - almost hardly worth mentioning. But to Lucy, it softened the transition. Despite the fact that it was destined to be destroyed within hours, it was still important.

"I'm always around." Lucy replied, potentially missing the meaning behind her question. She still didn't look at her - her eyes were on those insignificant lines, "Why, what're you talking about?"