IC: Wisteria, ???

The face that stared back at her was older, the blonde hair surrounding her violet eyes not showing the streaks of grey she knew ran through it. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. Her hands were shaking, smearing the mascara she was trying--relatively unsuccessfully--to apply. A short, high pitched burst of noise came from her mouth as she hurled the bottle across the room, turning back to that same damn haggard reflection, inhaling deeply again, the shudders seeming to leave her as the following breath of air left. She rolled her shoulders, breathed, closed her eyes, breathed, refocused, breathed. [i]Calm yourself. The mascara is not what you're angry about.[/i]

Her fingers clenched, unclenched, fell to the sink. She looked at the twin in the mirror again. It'd have to do--no way she would be able to look more presentable as long as she stayed in this state of mind. The light purple dress--colored like her namesake--flattered her well, but she supposed she deserved the holes in her facade after all this time. A carefully controlled smile twisted her mouth, perfect white teeth barely visible in the small grin. Then, the frown, not creasing her brow as she did, only the corners of her mouth slightly falling. A far steadier--but still trembling--hand wiped the smeared mascara away.

Satisfied, she turned from the mirror, took a deep breath, stepped through the door and snatched her purse off the bed. [i]As good a time as any, Wis.[/i]

***

Her hand clutched her purse, the gentle wind of the cool Monday morning flapping her dress to one side and her other palm to press down on the top of her hat in hopes of it not blowing away. They made an odd couple, she and the man standing next to her, old enough to be her father but still here for family day. She pulled out a small folding mirror and looked in it, at her face and then at the man again. [i]Definitely older. Probably a grandparent.[/i]

The head office was evidently where her unspeaking companion was bound for as well, though he followed her a few paces behind and seemed to be preoccupied with something. She'd tried speaking, once or twice, and he never responded, not during the entire walk to the office. [i]Losing your touch, there, Wis.[/i] 

Her hand clenched on her bag again as she stepped up to the receptionist. [color=C9A0DC]"Wisteria Desree. I'm... Trying to find my daughter."[/color]

"Sorry," the woman responded, after tapping at her scroll. "No students by the name of Desree. Want to try another last name?"

[color=E5E4E2]"Try 'Desire',"[/color] a sonorous voice said from behind her. She whirled around, the man from earlier smiling slightly as a nervous laugh burst out of her. [color=C9A0DC]"And... Who are you?"[/color]

He adjusted the platinum frames on his nose, an easy grin spreading across his face. [color=E5E4E2]"You'll have to forgive my rudeness. Arin Glint. A pleasure to meet the mother, Ms. Desree."[/color]