Shiver and Twitch

who: svetlana and open to owen
when: during all the kerfuffle with scott
where: nearish to the town hall, lurking.

Svetlana was outside again, despite the fact she was ill. She'd gulped down orange juice and picked at scrambled eggs courtesy of Kaori, but she'd been in a particularly sullen mood and hadn't so much as looked at the woman other than to snatch the breakfast tray away from her and hiss. The combination of her hands being really sore and screwy and the loud irritating music did not agree with her. She'd put up with worse, of course, especially in terms of noise. But there was nothing keeping her int he house apart from her own agoraphobia, and she decided that it was time to suck it the fuck up and get outside. Away from all the twinkly jingly enforced cheer.

She hadn't really appreciated her so-called "present" either. It was like a smack in the face, to remind her of how much she longed for a decent dance studio. Like her classroom back home, with it's massive mirrors and newly sprung floor. Instead she got some sham of a barre at the end of her room? Nice. No doubt that one would give her a bit of the old electroshock therapy, too. Fuck it.

She was wrapped up properly this time - her scabby, freckled face peering at the world from underneath a slouchy red beanie - although she still had a case of the shivers and nausea. But it was just a walk. It wasn't a midnight escape in an snowstorm.

And then she saw the people. Shitloads of them all congregating around the town hall. She wondered what the occasion was, as everyone looked worried, and she thought she maybe saw the back of Everett's smooth black head. Blergh, that was an encounter for another day. She stood back, arms folded, scowling through the crisp white daylight at the people a few blocks ahead of her, and trying to decide whether or not she should head back to the house. Probably. She wasn't feeling healthy, and all the open space was pressing on her shoulders - she was so painfully aware of all the places people could appear from and try and get to her. The familiar clench of panic in her gut was accompanied by slight nausea and she found herself shuffling back into a nearby hedge, pressing her spine against the leaves. Finding some slight comfort in the shrubbery.

 - .

Owen had managed to get Joy to the Town hall and then just...sidled away from her. She really did scare the crap out of him and it probably wasn't a good idea to not be in her good graces, but staying around her made him feel itchy. He was also a little worried about Jesse and Bethany, as well. And he hadn't seen much of Chris, which was starting to get worrying. It probably didn't help that he was also a bundle of nerves.

Clarkson had decided to take up her customary position in his hood, offering helpful commentary such as "chirp" and screeching in his ear. Wrinkling his nose, he rubbed at his temple and just sort of stopped as he came across well.

A girl hiding in the bushes.

As if today wasn't weird enough already.

Scratching the back of his head he tugged both his gloves up properly, raising his hands a little so she knew he wasn't about to attack her before clearing his throat.

"Uh, hello? Are you alright?"

 - .

There was always someone, wasn't there? In this stupid tiny town - getting in her face and talking. It was impossible to be alone here. Silence was non-existant it seemed. She missed silence and time with her own thoughts. But that couldn't be helped now - perhaps she should have paid better attention as to who might be lurking in the sidestreets.

Svetlana glowered at Owen. It wasn't full force - she was too tired for that. And there was the fact that the minute she looked at him she was reminded of some sort of mouse, or maybe a ferret. He had that edgy quality that made her pretty sure he wasn't about to make any sudden moves in her direction. She pushed her back further into the leaves of the bush and closed her eyes for a moment. Tried to find something resembling peace within her aching head and pounding heart. Then she looked back to Owen and shrugged. She probably wasn't alright. Not by anyone's standards. What was he planning to do about it?

 - .

Holy shit. Now he'd actually gotten a look at her, she looked just like the girl in the experiment who had...oh, -crap-. Swallowing, Owen fought down the sick feeling in his stomach, scratching the back of his head, careful not to come any closer. She didn't look like she wanted company. But he couldn't leave her alone by herself, could he?

"I, uh. Okay, shutting up. I was just wondering if you wanted to come inside out of the cold, 'sall." He said, smiling slightly. He'd found that a smile could help in some situations. Or at least save him from having his head beaten in. And he was under no illusions as to how well he'd do in a fight with -anyone- in this town, no matter how fast he could run away.

 - .

Svetlana blinked slightly at how blatent his nervous disposition was. Didn't he realise that good little mice got no-where as far as survival was concerned? Not any more. She pulled her shoulders back and drew her spine out with full Ballerina springiness. Her proud chin tipped up at Owen and her blue eyes blazed as they met his. It was a display, that even this pasty, cold-sweat soaked wisp of a girl could put up a dangerous front.

And he wanted her to come in from the cold. Laughable. She took a few steps forward and shrugged again, not breaking the eye contact, but pressing her hands over her mouth. He ought to be quieter. She didn't want Everett coming over here while she was in this condition. If Owen had somewhere for her to go that was warm and full of food and devoid of noise, she'd take it, but she doubted this was the fact. Too many do-gooders who didn't have a clue. Too many idiots.

 - .

Swallowing, Owen tried not to be intimidated by the fact that she was taller than him. It was a close thing, really. Then again, he hunched, so it might be a deciding factor. Scratching the back of his head, he stepped back and out of her space as she straightened.

This really wasn't going the way he'd planned. Not that he'd had a plan in the first place, but still. He watched as she put her hands over her mouth, taking the hint and shutting up for a moment before his nervousness got the better of him.

"Y'dont need to go in there. Uhm, I mean, there's the house I'm in and there's your own and there's other places too? It's just really cold." And wow, he really needed to stop rambling. Right now.

 - .

Svetlana snorted. He was a weird, fidigty thing. Stooped and hunched into himself like he thought that would stop them from getting at him. And all that nervous babble. She rolled her shoulders and gestured her hands outwards. Lead the way was the command she was trying to get across. He was right about the cold. And she still felt like death very slightly reheated. She wondered what his house was like - how many people lived in it and if any of them were Doctors.

She sniffed and huddled her face further into the folds of her baggy woolen jumper without breaking eye contact. Her death glare didn't seem to help the boy's nerves but that wasn't Svetlana's problem. If he was scared of her then it stood to her advantage, didn't it?

 - .

Oh, so she didn't do the talking thing. Swallowing, he tried to ignore the twisting in his stomach, going to do as he's told.He'd met someone else that didn't talk much, and he felt a little out of place as he made his way out and onto the street.

It really didn't help that she sort of scared him. He knew he needed to get over this whole neurosis thing but encounters with people like Joy and this girl really weren't helping him much.

"Uhm, we can go back to the house I'm in if you don't wanna talk to anyone. I think Jesse's not up to talking anyway and Joy's at the hall and uhm. Are you alright?"

 - .

Svetlana couldn't quite get her head around how stupid he was. Inviting her, an obviously crazy person (Yeah, fuck it, it was time to face facts - it wasn't everyone else. It was her.) into his home - no questions other than was she alright?. Wow. That level of idiocy was almost endearing - would have been if it wasn't so irritating. She had no idea who the two other people were he mentioned. She wondered if that infernal music was playing in his house. Or a bathroom she could sleep in - away from Kaori's prying eyes. No doubt she'd be back to square one in a couple hours when the head honchos did the big reset but...

No. Maybe she was the one being stupid. Maybe all the flightly-innocent crap was just a big trap. Svetlana figured she could read people, and he didn't seem the sneaky-pete type, but you could never tell any more. Fuck with the wrong person and they come for you with guns and handcuffs, and here was her without a blade. It was hard to envision this boy with his terrible posture and fear-filled eyes ever being a threat to her, though. She was a fucking gutter fighter if she had to be, exposure or no exposure. She nodded slowly, her scowl reaching whole new levels of fierce, and made to follow him. Her tiny fists were clenched, the pink swollen skin showing harshly against the whites of her knuckles, and she was ready to pounce if she needed to - but she had to admit if there was one thing she liked it was that he hadn't asked her for a name. Something about that particular question always crawled under her skin and wriggled.

 - .

Yeah, Owen felt like a bit of a moron. It didn't really occur to him that he could be making a big mistake. He wasn't the smartest tool in the shed and honestly, as bundled up as she was she looked like she needed to get out of the cold. He'd not had to deal with other people in his experiment, and he'd lost whatever ability he'd had that had been able to tell if someone wanted to hurt him or not.

And she was -scowling- at him, so he figured that if he managed to piss her off any further, she'd just turn around and walk off, not rip his head from his shoulders and use it as an ash-tray. Hopefully. He was trying to work out what to say to reassure her, let her know that he wasn't some kind of axe murderer or anything, but most of it sounded like what an axe murderer would -say-, so he scrapped that idea, scratching the back of his head and pulling his gloves up a little as he headed back up to the house.