Match and Kindling [Alastair, Arlette]

The return flight from Vastime had been an uneventful one for Alastair, though that did not mean that he had nothing to think about. At the surface level, there was the equipment now in his possession. He had taken it upon himself to secure these items, claiming that power, and now the onus would fall upon him to deliver on those promises. It was one more weight upon his shoulders, yet they bore so much now that he had little choice but to press forward with confidence and believe that he would not falter.

But there was something else that was at the forefront of Alastair's mind, and yet he had been trying so hard to bury any real emotion until, finally, he was away from the rest of the Duvalier Group. There was little he could do to guarantee that Eliane was not watching or listening. She had the capabilities and the resources, they all did, but someone had done something to Arlette. And that someone was likely someone close to her. But what was he to do? Claudia would expect updates, and he could not willingly choose to keep himself in the dark. That was not his way.

Touching down in the City of Lights, it didn't take long for him to get out on the runway and finally have a moment to himself. True privacy rather than being trapped within the confines of an aeroplane. Only then did he finally remove his phone from his pocket, where it had remained for the past few days.

Looking again at the missed calls, Alastair wondered whether it was smart to do this. Unfortunately, this was his only chance to get ahead of the curve. Pressing the dial-back button, he held the phone to his ear and waited.

The past few days had been nothing short of a slog for Arlette, and she couldn't especially say she felt as though things were looking up, either. She still couldn't walk all that far on her own, still couldn't even leave her penthouse without concern that something would go horribly wrong, either on account of the Duvalier Group or simply her poor condition.

But, when the phone rang, her eyes glanced over at the screen, and when she saw the name she sighed with some faint relief. It wasn't especially feasible for Arlette to do much of anything in a hurry, but she answered the phone with relative speed, given her condition.

"Alastair."

Cordial, business-like, professional. And yet, she could not hide the sense that she had been anticipating this phone call, nor could answering with only a single word mask the obvious strain in her voice.

She spoke first, just a single word, and Alastair was instantly relieved. At least she was alive, that was the first thought that crossed his mind even as he picked up on the duress with which she had spoken.

"Arlette. Where are you?"

He was not the type to tread lightly even when faced with a potentially dangerous situation. It was clear that something was going on, and he was out of the loop. Perhaps it was unusual that he had referred to her so informally, rather than as Miss Ovide or something similar, but there was certainly a sense of urgency to his voice.

"Home."

She still wasn't exactly able to say all that much, and Arlette would have been lying if she said that even this simple exchange of a few words was easy for her. Taking a moment, she thought about how best to word her next sentence, and then spoke in a tone that wasn't exactly urgent, but certainly severe.

"Drop your things off, change clothes, and come over."

Even knowing that this was likely not a line the Duvalier Group could access, she wasn't willing to clarify anything further, not when he could easily have been bugged during his time in Vastime. Arlette was barely willing to walk outside, much less invite a potential security collapse into her home.

"On my way."

There was nothing else that needed to be said, so he hung up and set off in the direction of the barracks. It was closer than his home, and it was likely that if either was being watched then both were. His only advantage was speed, moving before there was an opportunity for reaction. Still, he refrained from using his powers extensively, only cutting through alleyways when the streets were busy enough for him to slip away and rejoin the crowd without turning any heads.

At least he had travelled light, that was a saving grace now more than ever as he ditched his bag in his locker and changed into a different civilian outfit. He could have arranged for transportation to Arlette's apartment, but taking a car did not exactly scream covert. He was fast enough on foot, and his Hirenkyaku could do with the practice, at least.

Alastair arrived scarcely thirty minutes after having hung up the phone. Certainly, that was helped in part by his position and the clearance that gave him. But it still felt like a lifetime, his head racing with potential scenarios and considering what would come next. That was made clear by his overzealous use of the buzzer, demanding access where he might usually offer a single polite tone. At least he had managed to bundle his mop of red hair into a hoodie to make things a little discreet.

Those three words were remarkably reassuring, frankly. Perhaps it was the simple knowledge that he had been so quick to decide, so willing to simply make his way here. Of course, Arlette was not so idealistic that ill thoughts failed to cross her mind. She considered the fact that Alastair had only just been with Claudia, and that he almost assuredly had been told what had happened in a manner that only loosely resembled the truth.

Could he simply be coming here to handle Claudia's dirty work? Perhaps. But, then again, she didn't think Claudia could cut through to this man's sense of ethics. Alastair had always struck her as a bit too resolute for that. When he arrived, she rang him up, and she put out the cigarette she'd been having to at least meet him somewhat near the door. Certainly, walking was still something of a struggle, but she'd at least gotten used to it. When he arrived, she simply offered a faint smile, almost comedic in how it contrasted with how deathly she looked.

"Sorry I couldn't be more hospitable, but welcome."

Was there necessarily time for jokes? Not really, no. But Arlette thought it seemed appropriate.

There was the chance that this was an ambush, the risk that he was leading Eliane's agents right to her, but Alastair knew that he had to stand by his choices. Pulling back the hood as he made his way through the building to Arlette's door, his hair tumbled out before gathering on his back, he accepted that there was little use in hiding now. Come what may, the die was cast.

His stare was intense, though that was naturally how it rested, and yet those orange eyes softened as they fell upon Arlette. He did not return her smile, his own lips curling into a frown that further emphasised his concern. She looked worse for wear, like something had eaten its way out of her, and yet it was comforting to see her there. Were circumstances different, he might have dared to consider going for something as personal as a hug. But they were not those people, nor did they share that relationship.

"I have a lot of questions, Arlette. So can you tell me what is going on?"

He was hardly a step inside the door when he responded, it was rude of him and yet he needed to know. This was a delicate game and he found himself at the centre of it, stumbling around with a cloth over his eyes.

"I can. Come, sit."

Speaking was still just a bit of a struggle for Arlette, and so she simply walked back toward the living room, slowly and with no small amount of difficulty. But she walked, even so, and she wouldn't accept help now even if it was offered. She was committed to this. After she'd sat down herself, she stared out the window toward the ocean, recalling what had happened and how best to convey it in words.

"Claudia decided to...upgrade Eliane and I. She and I are clones, and our blood is mixed. Well, was."

Taking a moment to collect herself, she thought about her sisters. Eliane and Wolfina would hardly matter, but Antonetta... She was likely taking this poorly.

"We have backup bodies in the event of our death. I've never died even once, and I didn't intend to now for this upgrade. So instead, anything of my soul that was inhuman was cut out. I'd estimate I have about a quarter of my soul right now. Maybe a third, after my time recovering. So I left. I was tired of it. Tired of her, tired of that life."

Alastair saw her struggle to move, to walk unaided, and he did move to aid her. It was natural for him to offer to help, regardless of circumstance, but she waved him away and so he relented. He would have done the same in her position, of course. To refuse any aid until it was beyond necessary was a quality that he likely shouldn't respect as much as he did, but he would give her space and be patient unless she stumbled or fell.

He did not sit, though, choosing instead to stand by the window and watch Arlette as she looked out into the ocean. Mulling upon her explanation with some degree of thoughtfulness and concern. Arlette was the chalk to Eliane's cheese, as far as he was concerned, but in a weird way that made them being clones all the more believable. Still, had anyone else told him this then he would have assumed it was a joke. Making weapons was one thing, but turning people into weapons was a different matter entirely.

"And Eliane has died then? Several times? I cannot imagine such a process is a painless one, whatever is being done."

That certainly explained a little of her depravity, the way her smile twisted just a little too much, and for that alone Alastair pitied her. Still, it did not address the root of the problem.

"And I take it you did not simply tender a resignation? I assume that Claudia would not just let you leave quietly. That would explain her urgency in wanting to track you down and puts us both directly in her sights."

"I've killed her myself at least ten times. She knows dying isn't anything other than an inconvenience, and she lives every day knowing that."

Arlette couldn't help but chuckle at the question Alastair had posed, even for all the seriousness of the situation, though she winced in pain almost immediately after. She wasn't quite ready for all that just yet, she guessed.

"If I said a single word about wanting to quit, she'd have had the other three kill me. I don't know if you've met the others, but Wolfina wouldn't have any issue putting me down for the sake of work. Antonetta...she might hesitate. I don't know."

There was certainly a fondness in her voice as she thought on the 'youngest' of her sisters. Even if age was a meaningless distinction for them, it was hard not to see Antonetta as the most childish, and in a way, the most innocent, the closest to a normal person.

"I guess I should consider myself lucky. Having the trackers removed from my bones wasn't so painful after what she put me through. I don't doubt she wants me dead, and I'm sure she knows I'm here. But she's not foolish enough to just come and get me here. The Duvalier Group is built on its appearance, and her haven of Vastime is falling apart. Italy, too."

All the talking had clearly been a bit much for her, and Arlette took a moment to simply stop, catch her breath as she focused on anything other than the agony coursing through the whole of her being.