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Gabriella DiStefano

Her love was doomed from the start.

0 · 90 views · located in Wing City

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by FizzGig

Description

They say that when the power of love overcomes the love of power, then the world will find peace.

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Love can be found in many places. It comes from many sources. From family, friends, significant others…hobbies and talents can encourage love, and with love, comes appreciation for those things that are precious to us.

When I saw him…at first…I didn’t know what he would eventually mean to me.

Loving him…it saved me.

Loving him was the end of me.

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In spite of the drugs. In spite of how stubborn I was. In spite of the fact that I was undeniably, fallibly human…he was there for me. He loved me in life.

And continues to love me in death.

So begins...

Gabriella DiStefano's Story

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Character Portrait: Gabriella DiStefano

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#, as written by FizzGig
"Look, I don't think you're understanding what I'm saying here..."

Gabby was Italian, as such, her voice tended to carry, even when the others in the bar didn't want to hear her half of the telephone conversation she was having. "I was out sick, Jerry! I called and told you th--....I don't...You need to give me a warning or something don't you? I had no idea I called out that many times!"

She put a hand to her forehead, her thumb and index finger rubbing her temples as she inclined her chin to her chest. "Jerry...one more chance, please? I need this job..." Her voice lowered to a near-desperate plea. She walked over to the bar counter, short enough that the smooth surface came to the middle of her chest if she were flat footed. She wore heels though, wicked ones that complemented her knee-length, hot pink sundress. She looked like she was on her way to a party.

"Thank you." she finally whispered. "I'll see you tomorrow." Snapping the phone shut, she slipped it into the front pocket of her dress, resting a knuckle to her lip as she took a deep breath and tried hard not to lose it in front of the rest of the bar. Planting her rear on the edge of the stool, she gave the bartender a rather withering glance before saying,

"Just a Sam Adams."

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Character Portrait: Gabriella DiStefano

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#, as written by FizzGig
Spend all your time waiting....for that second chance. For a break that would make it okay..

When she wasn't under the influence, Gabby could be very, very sensitive to the stimulation going on all around her. So when Bug came into the bar, Gabby's eyes found her figure, flickering to her backpack, a wave of curiosity washing over her as she sat up a little higher in her seat. Where was she going? Why did she look like she was protecting the contents of her bag?

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Character Portrait: Gabriella DiStefano

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#, as written by FizzGig
Why did Gabby even care?

She was about to reach out, to say something, to mention that, perhaps, she could sit with her, and they could have a drink together, but the other girl didn't look as though she wanted company. In fact, she looked like she wanted to just get in, and run like hell back out the door.

So Gabby maintained her silence, but she watched the other, her hands resting in her lap as the Sam Adams slid over to her.

That was when she was struck with an idea.

As Bug came up, she slid the beer over to her.

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Character Portrait: Gabriella DiStefano

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#, as written by FizzGig
"You look like you could use it more than me." Gabby said, trying for a half-smile.

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Character Portrait: Gabriella DiStefano

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"In a hurry?" Gabby asked, plugging in an order for one of her own drinks. It came up a little quicker, since it was jut a repeat of the first order she'd put in, and she cracked the lid off with her bare hands before taking a thick swallow of the bitter, amber fluid. Normally, Gabby wasn't the type of person to strike up random conversation with another person in the middle of a low-class bar like this one.

But there was just...something about Bug that struck her.

Something painfully familiar.

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Character Portrait: Gabriella DiStefano

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"A date..."

Gabby looked away. Kevin wanted her to dress nicely for him. He said he wanted her to look different than all the other girls who, well, bought from him. He'd treat her special, he'd told her. He'd give her favors. Discounts. Everything she'd want, when she wanted, so long as it was within his scope of practice. A date, he'd said, though she knew ahead of time that it probably wasn't going to end up the way normal dates did.

She lifted a hand to rub the goosebumps away on her arm, black painted fingernails glittering against her pale skin. The silence pervaded between the pair. It would seem as though the conversation would end there.

And that was when Kevin came in, looking sharp in his ironed slacks and button-down. With a Grecian face and curly blonde hair, he looked every image the supermodel. But when he saw Gabby, his blue eyes were cold, and he immediately stepped forward, resting a hand at the back of her neck.

She turned away from him.

"Didn't miss anything did I?" he said, low in her ear. Silently she shook her head. He nodded. When he looked to Bug, his brow lifted, nose wrinkling in obvious disgust.

"What're you looking at?" he snapped.

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Character Portrait: Gabriella DiStefano

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"That so?" Keven replied, his hand leaving the back of Gabby's neck so that he could turn to face Bug more fully. "And I'm willing to bet you're just a fabulous judge of character, aren't you?" His eyes narrowed as he looked her over. He knew this chick, one of the many that came crawling to Hawley's doorstep, to any man's doorstep, for another fix. He was about to say something, but paused as Gabby reached out to gently wrap her hand around his bicep.

"Hey, come on," she said with a smile, though it was one that didn't reach her eyes. She sat up a little more fully, so that from his vantage point he'd get the entire show, and reached to lace both of her hands around his arm in order to turn him. "We have things to do right? I'm really excited.."

It was a dangerous game, trying to distract Kevin away from anything, or to interrupt him in the middle of a conversation, but she did not, under any circumstances, want him getting in some other girl's face just because they happened to sit down next to each other.

He glared at her. "I'll be out in the car then."

Shooting a look back at Bug, he stalked away from the pair, disappearing out of Gambit's with an unceremonial flourish. Gabby watched him go, turning around on the bar stool, and resting her forehead on her fingertips.

"Sorry about him." she muttered indirectly to Bug. "He's...had a long day."

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Character Portrait: Gabriella DiStefano

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Gabby lifted her head, looking over to Bug with a strange, almost unreadable expression on her face. Her green eyes were narrowed, long black hair hanging in thick waves over her face, down in front of her shoulders. She and Bug didn't look a thing alike, but Gabby knew, somehow, deep inside of her, that she and Bug were not very different at all.

"It isn't that easy." she said gently, straightening and fixing herself before slipping off of the bar stool. She was about to turn, to leave, but compulsion had her turning back towards the other, holding out a hand.

"I'm Gabriella." she said. "I hope you get to where you need to with plenty of time tonight."

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Character Portrait: Gabriella DiStefano

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Gabby watched her go, letting her hand fall back to her side before taking a breath and crossing her arms over her chest. There was no excusing it now. She needed to go outside, face the music. Or, as her father would so fondly put it, lay in the bed you made.

Oh, how ironic that statement was.

She reached for her purse, slinging it over her shoulder before smoothing the hem of her hot pink cocktail dress. With stiletto heels clicking against the bar-room floor, she made her way out of Gambits, casting one last look around before disappearing out into the child night air.

The setting changes from gambits-bar to Wing City

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Character Portrait: Memphis Character Portrait: Gabriella DiStefano

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(Post by FizzGig and NotAFlyingToy)


'I am not a hero, I am not an angel...I am just a man. A man who's trying to love her, unlike any other....in her eyes I am.'

The center lawn of campus was just about deserted this time of night, nearly midnight according to the giant clock that towered over the lawn. Moonlight cast long, silvery shadows over the landscape, dotted here and there with stone structures, benches, statues, and a small collection of students gathered in the shadows of one of the picnic overhangs.

She was off to one side, her back resting against a pillar, one ear bud barely clinging to her left ear as the sounds of Josh Groban serenaded her. She wasn't aware of the other students, friends of hers, only of the lightness she was experiencing, the nub of a well-used joint resting limply between her fingers.

She nodded her head, chin bobbing against her chest as she slowly drew her knees up to her chest. This was easy. This was nice. She could forget everything this way, even if it was only temporary, it was a reprieve.

Gabby DiStefano was nothing, if not in absolute, unwavering control of her own life.

Gabby was nothing.

The only thing he noted that night was the cold that nipped his bones. Matthias delighted in cold; found it ever so fascinating that his breath would crystalize in front of him, took so much joy in the numbness of fingers that left him feeling like he had to rub them against each other rapidly to rid them of the bone-seeking chill. Part of the reason that Matthias made such a good mentor on the ground was his willingness to soak in information and enjoy it - from pain (on a basic level - he didn't like too much pain, but he often cried out in delight if he stubbed a toe) to pleasure (who knew that the crunch of toast could be so delightful?). He was a near perfect guinea pig, and could defend himself. The perfect agent.

The sound of a too-loud bass and a roaring car drew him towards the College campus, night after night. In his head, he was writing a book of sorts; an in-depth study of why young adults, and specifically college students, fought more and more than your average high school student. The study had take him all over the united states in search of various campuses and his results were largely the same. The only difference he could really spy was the fact that the College kids had more freedom.

In short? They partied because they could.

His usual attire of a white suit and black tie caught an errant lamp stream of weak, yellow-bathed light, casting a small reflection on the walls that he passed. In his right hand was a briefcase, where he kept his weapon and laptop, in case of need. As he walked, he noted the ghost-like appearance of the campus park, nothing but the rosebud glow of a used joint glimmering in the night as it dangled from a girl’s hands.

Now was a good a place to start as ever, he supposed.

Walking towards the girl, he smiled at her, his radiant teeth contrasting with his jet black hair and tanned skin. “Hello there, babe.” He said, his accent light and northern, using the vernacular he’d picked up.

“I was just wondering where I could find a good time tonight. You know where I could find some?”

She lifted her head slowly, peering at the man before her through squinted eyes. Her long, black hair partially obscurred her face, the crease in her brow a manifestation of her confusion. White suite. Briefcase. Was she hallucinating?

Where had Lexi gotten her shit from anyway?

At the man's words, she huffed a laugh, a wry smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. Letting the joint fall from her hand, she tilted her head back, the ridge of her throat lifting and falling as she swallowed.

"Party's right here," she rasped, spreading her hands out nonchalantly. The earbud had fallen away, music blaring from her iPod somewhere near her right hip. She didn't care. Sniffing hard, she lowered her chin slightly, staring at the man's breifcase.

"Nice suit."

"Thank you!" He chirped, all cheeriness and sunshine. He tilted his head, momentarily saddened at the state of her, but he promptly pushed the thought from his mind. He was not one to interfere in the affairs of humans unless it went against one of the Fundamentals. And while distasteful, pumping yourself up with hallucinogens wasn't against Fundamental.

He watched her throat with interest, curious about her. "Well, I was hoping you'd accompany me towards where the party is located, you know? I'm new here - don't know my way around too well."

He shot her what he hoped was a nervous smile.

She shot a look back. She wasn't oriented enough to know what kind of look she gave him.

"Sorry, but...I'm not in the mood to go walking." She lifted her shoulders in a dramatic shrug. "This..is a party of one." She reached for the bench of the picnic table, her foot scraping along the pavement as she brought her ankle around, folding her leg underneath her and trying to pull herself to her feet. "I, um.."

Shit. Totally forgot what I was going to say.

"The, er, frat halls usually have something fun going on. I woulda gone but, uh, not feelin' toooooo sociable at the moment." She smacked her lips with an audible 'pop', standing for a moment before abruptly plopping herself down on the bench. She tilted her head sideways and gave him a squinty-eyed look.

"M'name's Gabby if you care." she slurred.

"And I, am Matthias." He said, setting his briefcase down as he plopped down on the bench beside her. He looked her over, questioning her decision to be out this late, alone, and clearly intoxicated. Self destructive, his brain thought without consulting him. She means for something bad. Or Naivety. Or both.

"So, Gabby." He didn't think the name suited her. She should have something longer, darker and more poignant. "Why are you out here all alone? The un-sociable behavior from before?"

"Because I can," she drawled. "And before you, and your...fancy suit," she gestured at him, her nose wrinkled. "...get all uppity about my....current situation. I'm fine. Just. Fine. So you may go. Away."

She leaned back on the table, arms flopping out to either side as she stared at the roof of the pavilion. There was a moment's pause.

"Really. The frat house is more fun than I am. Pinky promise."

He quirked an eyebrow at that, not knowing how to respond to something that only children seemed to understand. "Ah, but you said that you're your own party. So, we can either sit here in a silence so awkward that it's pleasurable, or we can get to know each other better."

He crossed one long leg over his knee, leaning back against the bench. "Now, personally, I prefer the second option. But I'm okay with either."

She rolled her head to the side, her hair spilling out around her face like someone had taken an ink bottle and dumped it over. She blinked lazily at him, her lower lip tucking in between her teeth before she relaxed. Sitting up, she rested her elbows on her knees and let her head hang, that voluminous curtain obscuring her face from his view momentarily.

"Probably think I'm some...dirty frat-whore..." she said, though, it wasn't clear as to whether or not she was speaking to him..or to herself. "I don't do this all the time, just...sometimes. When it hurts."

She didn't look at him.

He leaned to his left, trying to maintain eye contact for as long as he could with her. When the attempt proved futile, he leaned back again, tapping his fingers against the back of the bench, a frown on his face. He was more than concerned, now. This woman seemed a broken soul, and it was a Fundamental that Angels do what they must to make the lives of the humans better. Perhaps it was not meant on an individual scale, but something about this girl throbbed, and he wanted to take away some of that pain.

He allowed some of his healing power into the tips of his fingers, warming the palm and making it glow slightly. With a soft hand, he placed it on her back, allowing the pleasant sensation to spread on her.

"I don't think that, Gabby." He said, softly. "What hurts?"

An audible sigh left her when his hand touched her back. She seemed to relax for a moment, pausing as she listened to him speak. She slipped her hands up to her face, cupping her cheeks and sitting back. Eyeliner and mascara stained her lower lid, smudged by her fingertips.

"My heart." she finally whispered.

He pressed his palm more firmly against her back, allowing the warmth to spread into her more as he channeled the warmth into her. It was a healing ray, normally, but he liked to use it to influence the humans in subtle ways, take away their cares, give them pleasant memories of human contact. As he sought inside her, his stomach clenched with her emotions, making him tremble slightly.

"There are cures for an aching heart, Gabby." The name sounded foreign on his tongue, so he tried again.

"Gabriella."

There. Just right.

"Why does your heart ache so? Talk to me. Maybe I can help."

"How could you?" she replied, the drugs that fogged up her system making her emotions flip at a dizzying speed. She was angry now, irate, in fact. She didn't want this man near her. She didn't want his pity. She was, and had always been, better off on her own.

With a muttered curse, she shoved herself to her feet, walking away from him, crossing her arms firmly over her chest and going to lean on the pillar. She would walk home, but she didn't know where she'd left the keys to her apartment, and she especially didn't want to beg her goody-two-shoes roomate to open up for her. It was likely that the girl was asleep with her earplugs in. Gabby was kind of stuck.

"S'none of your business." she added, stubbornly, turning her face away from him. "M'fine. I'll deal with it."

He stood then, towering over her. When she walked away, he followed, the healing glow vanishing from his arm as she dissappeared from his grasp. Following behind her with his longer strides, he stopped as she leaned against the wall, his height enabling him to see the top of her head and nothing more. Her face was turned stubbornly away from him, so his hand went over her shoulder, fingers spread against the concrete piller.

"Why are you afraid of me, Gabriella?" He asked in his musical tone. "Why do you not let anyone in? I'm a good listener. All you need to do is talk."

The other hand was placed on the side of the pillar, around her right arm. He was surrounding her; boxing her in.

She shrunk away from him, holding herself more tightly as she tucked her chin to her chest. She seemed to contemplate. She was probably hallucinating anyway. What could be the harm in talking to someone who likely wasn't going to be around in the morning?

She took a breath, glancing sideways and only getting a glimpse of his broad chest.

"It's ... the anniversary of my mom dying." she began, her voice thick. "And...I don't expect stuff from my family. I don't want anything from them...but today, I just...get this phone call from my Dad..." She worked her jaw, lifting her chin. "And he just...doesn't say, a word, about Mom..." She sniffed, hard. "Like...pretending...nothing happened. He talks about my sisters, doesn't ask me ... if ... doesn't even let me talk, and then, at the end..." She was getting worked up. Embarrassing.

"He, ugh, he tells me he's sure Mom's forgiven me. That..that Jesus," she spat the word. "..will forgive me. And, he hung up..."

Matthias took it in, noting her aversion to the jesus-topic with a slight frown. He had heard worse, however, and so nodded as she spun her tale, knowing by the passion with which she spoke that this was a closely related topic to her wounded heart. He didn't smile as she laid her tale out, just listened carefully, hanging onto her every word.

When she finished, he spoke.

"I am sorry for your mother's death, Gabriella." He said, his voice soft and soothing. "And I'm sorry for your fathers selfishness and insensitivity. That kind of conversation isn't the best to have on such a mournful day. But your mother is in a better place. This I know."

He spoke with assurance, more than just a wondrous belief. In his voice, he conveyed a fanatic and final knowledge, an assurance of the subject at hand. He wasn't confident; he was sure. He moved away from her, giving her plenty of space as he backed up.

"I feel confident she wouldn't want you to think of her this way; in a way of defeat and misery. She'd want you to live. She'd want you..."

He extended a hand; big, warm, strong. "...to move forwards."

Close enough to start a war...

She listened to him speak, unable to deny how, well, how nice his voice was to her ears. It wasn't just a soothing physical sensation, but it was like a balm to her soul, and while with others who had told her similar things over the long weeks and months and years since her mother's death, none of them had stuck with her. His words touched her heart, encircled it, squeezing tight until she felt like she couldn't breath. This wasn't the drugs, either, this was something real, something entirely different from what she'd always felt. Loneliness was replaced with a sudden, achingly bright beacon of hope.

Hope.

She turned to look at him over her shoulder, lips pressed tightly together as tears rolled down her cheeks. With a furrowed brow, she kept her arms firmly crossed, refusing to take his hand.

But I won't let you close enough to hurt me...

He terrified her.

Shaking her head, she glanced down at her feet to make sure she was right in her heels, then sighed. "I have to go."

She didn't wait for his response. She simply began to walk away, shoulders hunched, her heels clicking on the sidewalk as she felt herself get swallowed up in shadow, a prison of her own making.

I'll be my own savior standing on my own two feet...

He paused as she walked away, and sighed loudly, audible to her over the clicking of her heels. He had held out his hand, and she had left. Puzzlement surrounded his mind, buzzing at him like bees. There were very few humans that rejected his hand when he held it; indeed, he had been created so that they wouldn't reject his offer. So a human that had the will to reject his principles and his physical comfort - twice - was something that was very serious, indeed.

She seemed to like being in the dark.

She fascinated him.

For now, he let her walk away, the click of heels on pavement a dejecting sound to his ears. However, with quick hands, he threw back his coat, his briefcase flying to hide beneath the long fabric. Large, white wings, with long feathers protruding from a single, thick bone came sliding out of his back, folding experimentally before taking off, sending him higher into the air, quickly becoming masked by the night. The coat and the case would dissappear at a word, and he wasn't worried about someone stealing them; they were unopenable to all but his own hands.

He flew through the air, her white escort in the black night, his eyes zeroed in on her figure below him. Until they met again.

And then he'd find out about her.

The setting changes from wing-city to The Ruins

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Character Portrait: Gabriella DiStefano

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I've lost myself again.

Lost myself and I'm nowhere to be found...


One foot in front of the other, Gabby. Just breathe. Walk. Somewhere, anywhere, just keep moving. Go on, it's okay. Don't be afraid. The darkness won't find you while you're awake.

She looked around her, shivering in spite of the zip-up jacket she wore. Her hair hung in loose, unkempt tendrils around her face, green eyes bright, wide, almost glassy, as though she were in a daze. She hugged herself as a breeze cut across the valley filled with broken-down stone.

Help...I've done it again. Been here many...so many times before.

She faced that vast emptiness, lost in her own thoughts, unable to find what it was she'd been searching for, and terrified that the nothingness was all that was left for her. She lifted a hand, fingertips brushing her lips as tears burned the corners of her eyes.

Just breathe.

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Character Portrait: Gabriella DiStefano

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Foolishly, the woman hadn't heard the other approach until he was practically on top of her. With a sharp gasp, she spun around, eyes wide as she stared at the young man before her. She scanned him from face to boot, realizing she didn't recognize him in the least bit. Not that that was uncommon. She rarely, if ever, was able to recognize anyone.

She swallowed rather thickly, wringing her hands together for a moment before sucking in a breath. Exhaling, she relaxed her hands, allowing them to fall to her sides, and met Kimo's eyes evenly.

"Hi."

Her voice cracked, as though she hadn't spoken in days. "Have I met you before?"

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Character Portrait: Gabriella DiStefano

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She gave a very slight, gentle shake of the head. "I'm not ok." she replied softly, struggling to keep her breathing under control. She didn't want to go back to Wing City. That place scared the hell out of her. There was too much noise, too many people. To many things that weren't people.

She traced his arm, to the spot behind the boulder, and looked up at Kimo, hesitantly taking a step back.

"I should probably go." she explained, her eyes slightly misted over. She didn't know what the man was trying to hold back, but she didn't necessarily want to either. She got the sense he didn't want her company either.

The setting changes from the-ruins to Wing City Gardens

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Character Portrait: Gabriella DiStefano

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Lying on a park bench, Gabby had her legs crossed at the ankles, her hands placed carefully behind the back of her head. With her brow creased in thought, she glanced across the sky, between stars, trying to imagine a world beyond the physical confines of her own.

Images had started to come back to her, startling sequences of thoughts that hadn't previously come to her mind. They were new, and some of them frightening...but they were starting to make a handful of things very clear for her.

Unfortunately, she'd forgotten to tell Memphis where she'd gone.

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Character Portrait: Gabriella DiStefano

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She sat up abruptly, her eyes wide, lips parted as she jumped to her feet. Starting towards him, she had a brief moment of dizziness from her sudden change in position. She hesitated, then approached him, touching his elbow before sliding her hand down to clasp his tightly clenched fingers.

"I'm sorry. I just, started thinking really fast and I had to walk. Thought it might help me keep up with my own brain." Her heart was beating at a million miles an hour, causing her cheeks to flush as she stepped back and tugged on his hand.

"Come sit with me?" she asked softly, looking up to meet his eyes.

She felt her heart lurch with a very familiar, very comforting ache.

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Character Portrait: Gabriella DiStefano

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She let her hand fall down to her side. This time, her fingers clenched, before she shoved her fist into her pocket.

Maybe she was crazy.

She took a step back, her other hand tightening on the grocery bag. Vanilla coke and chocolate tended to make a massive fuzzy froth if you had them in your mouth at the same time. Odd thought, but she seemed to remember a time when the stuff had spewed out of her nose. She had been laughing at something.

"Life before." Her nose wrinkled. "I...remember faces. Some brief moments." She put the grocery bag down, then put her hands on his crossed arms.

"Spread your arms out." she told him, not really asking.

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Character Portrait: Gabriella DiStefano

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Lifting to her tiptoes, she stepped up to him so that her chest was pressed comfortably to his. Then, she gently traced her hands from his shoulders out along his arms, as wide as she could, so that her fingertips brushed the cuff of his overcoat.

She turned to rest her cheek against his chest.

"I remember this." she breathed. "In a sunlit meadow. We were alone, and we were talking about God."

She glanced up to his face. "..and love."

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Character Portrait: Gabriella DiStefano

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"I know."

Her eyes were swimming with tears as she smiled. Talking about one thing she remembered unlocked a door that had kept all others at bay. Walks and talks, feelings and endless memories of nights spent sleeping in his arms. She remembered the day they met, the haze of drugs, the first time she'd seen his glorious white wings.

"I love you too."

She blinked, and the tears slipped, but they weren't tears born of a desperate hopelessness that she'd been weighed down with. As the memories kept slipping past the invisible barrier that death had created, she'd found in herself a sense of purpose, a reason for living. Him.

"I don't think I ever really stopped."

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Character Portrait: Gabriella DiStefano

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"I'm sorry it took so long for me to come around." she replied, biting hard on the inside of her cheek to keep from bursting into tears. God it felt so good to be held, to understand why he made her heart sing. She put her arms around his waist, holding him to her, and listening to the steady beat of his heart. Strength. There was so much strength there.

Leaning back, she lifted her hands, tracing her fingers over the line of his cheekbone. She gently touched his jaw, drawing him close. "Kiss me." she breathed. "Please."

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Character Portrait: Gabriella DiStefano

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Gabby flinched when the claps sounded sharply through the small garden. Looking towards the first hat she saw, she drew closer to Memphis, her eyes wide as saucers. There were more of them, carbon-copies of one another, and the way they moved in the exact same way, spoke in the same monotone voice, it unnerved her right to the core.

There was something inherrantly wrong about all of this.

Memphis moved fast, putting her behind him. She put her back to his, hands balled into fists at her sides. She'd brought a knife with her, whatever that was worth. At least it was better than nothing.

As his voice brushed against her consciousness, like the touch of soft silk, she began to focus more intently on the figures that surrounded them.

"Funny," she said aloud. "I don't find myself craving flesh. Just chocolate, from time to time."

My five o'clock.

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Character Portrait: Gabriella DiStefano

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Got it.

The knife came out of her pocket. She flicked it open with a deft twitch of the wrist, tossing the weapon from the handle to the blade. She licked her lips, gritting her teeth as Black Hands' words flickered through her mind.

Does she know, Memphis?

...holding on to an illusion of love.


"No illusion." she whispered, throwing the knife, and burying it to the handle in the chest of one of the illusions. He, too, disappeared. "I've seen the face of God." she murmured to no one in particular, though she knew both Black Hands and Memphis could hear her.

"And I promise you...if I wasn't meant to come back...I wouldn't have."

She broke away from Memphis and ran to retrieve the knife.

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Character Portrait: Gabriella DiStefano

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#, as written by FizzGig
Gabby straightened, folding the knife closed and slipping it back into her pocket before slowly making her way back over to the pair. What they were discussing threatened to make her head spin. Just because she remembered what had happened, who she was, didn't mean that the cryptic conversation they were having was easier to understand.

What they were alluding to sent a shiver down her spine, but she kept her peace. There would be time to talk later.

"What do you want?" she asked, looking down at the queer stranger. There was a strange glow to her emerald eyes, eyes that had looked on the face of God.

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Character Portrait: Gabriella DiStefano

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#, as written by FizzGig
She took a step back, avoiding the space where the man had melted, disappearing from sight. The land appeared tainted, ugly, like he'd left an aura behind that made her nose wrinkle with the unpleasantness of it all.

Licking her lower lip, she turned to look at Memphis, and there was a turmoil of questions in her eyes.

"Mind getting me up to speed?" she asked quietly. Then, after a glance towards the earth, she added, "Back home?"

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Character Portrait: Gabriella DiStefano

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#, as written by FizzGig
She nodded, hovering close, slipping under his arm as they started down the street. "First of all," she began as they moved together, like one entity. "I don't...blame you for anything, for how this all happened, why I'm here." she pursed her lips. "The truth of the matter is that I was supposed to come back, one way or another."

She wasn't looking at him, but past him, up at the stars. "That's what I was told anyway."

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Character Portrait: Gabriella DiStefano

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#, as written by FizzGig
Gabby let him guide her, stepping easily with him. Like movements, one heart. She listened to what he had to say, absorbing it, processing it, patiently going over details so that they all fell into place in her head.

Curiously, she looked down at her hands, turning them over and studying the veins that tracked through her skin.

"I could say the same thing for you." she replied, meeting his eyes and letting her hands fall to her sides. "So they're coming for me, then. To restore balance."

She said it with a strange sense of calm, even though her heart pounded, and there was a worried light behind her eyes.