Emerson thought color best represented the moments that made up her life.
The nine months she spent in jail was a dull gray with arbitrary specks of magenta that appeared when one of her fellow juvies wreaked some havoc within the prison cells. Such occurrences were rare, but definitely worth the wait. Getting enigmatic J's message was an exciting spike of cyan, bright and vibrant and full of possibilities.
C'est la vie, J said. Emerson had no idea what that meant, but she knew then that she was going to say bye-bye to her prison cell.
She remembered the moments right after boarding the ship and right before being lulled into a deep sleep as a gentle blue, like how the sky was illustrated in Ryker's boring history books. It was soothing but somehow sad, and the dreams that followed left a bittersweet taste in her mouth. Maybe because she didn't get to say goodbye.
The blue was fleeting, though. She woke up after what seemed like an eternity crammed in a couple of hours and suddenly, there was green. Green of every shade, green that she never thought existed, green that told her she was no longer a prisoner.
Emerson wanted to cry, but she celebrated instead. Pleasantface McAbs over there started letting loose and what better way was there to revel in your newfound freedom? She joined him while everyone else was busy being sticks in the mud, fully intent on having the best fucking time of her life, but then she spotted a familiar tuft of black hair and
shit.Now she saw yellow. A glaringly bright warning yellow, flashing nonstop.
Begrudgingly, Emerson resigned to cutting her celebrations short. To her right and a little further away, a small group began gathering around Val and Charlie, and she didn't have to be there to know that tensions were sky high. She could hear dissention from the outspoken and judgmental murmurings from the rest. In other words, fun. Watching drama unfold would surely lift her spirits.
But before all that: she had to deal with the reason her spirits needed lifting in the first place. Emerson slinked away from Mr. Pleasant and stomped toward her stupid, stupid, fucking stupid cousin, huffing petulantly. He was smiling at her, but she didn't know why, because she sure as hell wasn't glad to see him.
"Why are you here?" she demanded, absolutely livid.
Her eyes flicked over the group caught up in drama then back to her cousin. Goody two-shoes Ryker belonged in Port Hope, with his mom and dad and his dorky friends, where he can be a teacher or a doctor or a saint or whatever. He did not belong here, wherever here was, surrounded by dozens of criminals who could easily take advantage of his goody two-shoesness.
"And how could you not tell me? You… you dick."Like the mature young woman that she is, Emerson started picking up twigs and tiny pebbles and attacked Ryker.
"Em, cut it-- let me explain and--" Ryker shielded his face with his arm, but he stopped trying to talk her down. He knew better than anyone that there was no use, not when she was throwing a fit. Sure, it hurt a little—damn it, Emmy, can't you at least miss a couple of times?—but it didn't compare to his immense relief at reuniting with her. He let Emerson vent while he scouted the area, assessing what they can do now.
And that's when he saw it. Chaos. A girl with a gun. Genevieve (little Gen all grown up since the last time they played with her, four years ago) being threatened with it. Ryker hesitated only for a moment out of fear before he was hurtling forward, but Emerson was faster. Both of them reached her just as the gun-toting girl (
fucking Athena went bonkers, muttered Emmy) finished raving about power and Genevieve burst out in anger.
Ryker approached his old friend tentatively, concern etched in his features. It didn't seem like she needed any help at all, but he still wanted to make sure she wasn't hurt.
"G-Genevieve?" Ryker wasn't sure if she still recognized him—four years was a long time.
"Are you alright?"Beside him, Emerson had made herself comfortable, sitting cross-legged on the ground. It seemed she was enjoying the tiffs a little too much,
oohing when the girl he recognized vaguely as a Katona challenged Athena. He could feel her disappointment when nothing came out of the confrontation.
"You talk too much, Val," Emerson booed the boy with platinum blonde hair this time, the one he'd notice trying to stir the others into action, though she was more affectionately teasing than derisive.
"Go get the supplies and feeeed me. I feel like I haven't eaten in years—" Emerson stopped midsentence, distracted by a blur of movement in the distance. An oddly-shaped figure, one she probably wouldn't be able to discern even if she had seen it clearly, stalked between the trees.
It moved north, disappearing along the horizon.
"Huh. Wonder what that was."
