Cold air meant discomfort, and while Elliot didn't like it, he felt it necessary. It kept him from being able to withdraw or concentrate too much on his thoughts. Did he come here intending to confront the Wards like this? He'd wanted to for some time, the urge to unleash his burning resentment for them overpowering at times, but when it came down to it he just seized the most convenient opportunity. Elliot wanted to move on, confident that his breakdown wouldn't change a thing, but he felt positive that someone would confront him. Would whoever came imagine herself blameless? That he was nothing more than an arrogant asshole lashing out without cause? Nobody would flinch from the status quo, their opinions of him surely worsening after this outburst, but if his words sparked enough guilt would they make an effort to put this problem down...?

Evelyn appeared a moment later. She did not look at him straight on, nor he her, which felt right. He should have predicted this outcome; after all, no way delicate Lillian -sure to be hit hard by the revelation that her mindlessness had consequences- or her closest sympathizer would approach him now. Evelyn told him that his actions would not earn him judgment from her, which was a lie, of course. Humans were judgmental by nature; even he, the Margrave, would have harbored strong new conclusions were he in her shoes. Elliot noticed that she seemed to be having a tough time getting her words out. Did they reflect her true thoughts? From what he knew of her, he felt a degree of surprise she didn't come out swinging. If she did, he would have needed to take her on with the full extent of his strength -equal opportunity and all that- though he suspected he would have gained little satisfaction, as her projection would have netted her a relatively easy victory over him despite his stronger form and martial training. Power, after all, meant everything, and some just didn't have it. Regardless of what might have been, he decided to humor Evelyn based on the premise of her coming out here with entreating words.

He allowed a succinct, “Mm,” to slip out when she mentioned a barrier. [i]Yes,[/i] he thought. [i]That's true.[/i] A barrier did exist. He did close himself off from the others, but was that wall his doing alone? Who built it, brick by brick? They resented him for his behavior, either antisocial or theatrical, and then for his negative reaction to their scorn. Which came first, the chicken or the egg? The Margrave was the Margrave; he did not change. These girls did not interest him, nor he them; circumstance thrust him, the loner and stranger, into their clique, and such opposites did not attract. They did not and would never understand him, and while he would have been happy enough if they feared what they didn't understand, they had ignored and denigrated it instead. Well, he didn't need to be understood. [i]A crutch for the weak![/i]

However, Evelyn did betray a hint of awareness, whether forced or true. [i]Surely she cannot be connecting the dots,[/i] Elliot wondered. [i]That hatred breeds hatred, that despising me forces me away and earns retribution.[/i] At least she acknowledged his steadfastness to his duty, tenet of heroism that it was. A few moments of silence trudged by, culminating in a pronouncement from Evelyn that interested him. As ever, he forestalled his gut response only long enough to inject it with his characteristic elegance.

[color=8F9779]“It is said that the first stage of recovery is admitting one has a problem. If the road is true, not even the smallest step on it is wasted.”[/color]

If her statement bore ambiguous honesty, his did as well. Still, it didn't feel like the token responses and efforts he'd received from the others before. Having been desperate for respect for so long, and now, after making clear his feelings, Elliot would not stonewall even an ambiguously honest attempt on her part. It would take more convincing that she trod upon it, but the path to reconciliation was open.

He blinked twice. He'd allowed himself to become mired in thinking again, and Lillian was standing in front of him. Where did she come from? She was crying. [i]Oh boy, here we go.[/i]

Her name-calling he took like a champ, but her very next few word left him perplexed, causing his eyebrows to furrow in puzzlement. [i]Bad as I am?[/i] The restatement of what the Wards would be doing brooked no argument from him, since as previously asserted, he would be doing whatever his duty required of him. However, what Lillian said next got the gears turning. [i]Knowing you isn't my job,[/i] he wanted to say. [i]I'm not nice, not friendly, not an extrovert, not a leader, not some goody two-shoes, and I don't pretend to be, unlike some. We can do our thing without knowing one another just fine. It's everyone else's ignorant self-righteousness and contempt that's the problem.[/i] 

Something specific about her phrasing stuck with him, though. How long had it been since she joined? A few weeks? From the moment she appeared, happy-go-lucky and seemingly beloved and accepted by everyone, he'd lumped her in completely with the rest. But other than ignoring him from time to time, had she really offended him...?

Either way, she now voiced determination to bring an end to the dismissal. Before Elliot could draw much of a conclusion beyond 'yeah, right' he found himself forcibly embraced. An utterly aghast expression took hold of his features as he froze, motionless, not daring to move. [color=8F9779]“...Eck.”[/color] A noise of distress, released on instinct, caught in his throat. Never had the effervescent spheres, whose myriad eyes beheld all futures, awakened him to a reality such as this. A dozen thoughts shot though his head like particles in an atom collider, running together in a gruesome mess. At length he concluded, [i]if...if this is a farce, it's a strong one. Too strong...[/i] Something in the bareness of her words told him they came from the heart. Indeed, of all of them, Lillian struck him as the least inclined toward duplicity. He looked down on her as a simpleton, driven by emotion, nevertheless adored by all, but right now she seemed like a child struggling with the burden of being hated. That didn't feel good. 'All those years' she said. How much did she struggle? Surely not as much as him...?

A different sort of confusion hit Elliot as something in his chest turned over. He swallowed, and in the back of his throat it felt as though a dozen tiny bubbles were popping. [i]What the hell is going on?[/i] He couldn't stand this internal pressure; he needed to let it out. Since he didn't know what to say, he let his mouth go by itself. [color=8F9779]“The first thing to know,”[/color] he said, voice thick, [color=8F9779]”Is that I'm a failure. I've failed everything I've ever done, everyone I've ever known.”[/color]

Elliot coughed, and stared across the street at the menu of some restaurant. He couldn't read it from this distance. Thoughts coming together, he continued, [color=8F9779]”So I don't deserve sympathy or pity. And I don't want them. Withstanding all that comes...without cracking, showing weakness, giving a single inch...the Margrave's strength. That's who I became. Who I am![/color] Screwing his eyes shut and clenching his teeth, Elliot awkwardly attempted to squirm out of the hug. Why was he saying this? How could he let them see him like this!? He needed to get away. [color=8F9779]”Now I've failed that too. Let me go!”[/color] he growled, preparing to make a break for it.