APPRECIATE THE ART.

The box is (rightfully) suspicious, and had he not remembered what today is, he likely wouldn’t have brought it into his apartment at all.

Getting up the nerve to open it, though—that takes some time. Mostly consisting of poking the thing, turning it over in his hands, putting it back on the table, and picking it up again. But there’s nothing to indicate anything dangerous. No ticking, strange smells, or odd residue on the box. 

So, he opens it. And, thankfully, nothing goes horribly wrong. 

Inside is…picture frames? Which is surprising, but less so when he opens the attached note. 

He smiles to himself. Well, that’s nice of her. 

Zip em to me and I’ll resize them for u

Kidman doesn’t flinch or shy away from the sudden display of anger, hardly reacts with anything more than her gaze shifting fully to him with a slight turn of her head. She’s used to quick anger, particularly from men. It’s not frightening, and it’s also clearly not directed at her as soon as he starts to speak.

A year. For someone who saw over a decade of her life taken and molded by the group, a year sounds trivial. It sounds like no time at all. But she won’t hold his anger about that against him; not like she will other things that he was in control of.

“That’s a answer,” she replies coolly, but her tone is less clipped. There’s no warmth, but there’s less glass at the edges of her words. “MOBIUS took from a lot of people, some more than others. I won’t deny you your anger and frustration.” She’s good at talking, at making it sound like her words have been carefully chosen even if she’s being forced to deviate from her mental script.

But. “But I won’t let you deny what you did inside STEM, and those you hurt and took from. You asked if I know Sebastian Castellanos, and I’ll answer that question now: Yes, I do. I was his point of contact outside of STEM.” So I heard all about you and all the terror you put him and Lily through. Her lavender gaze is unwavering.

Stefano is quickly learning several things about Juli Kidman. One: she’s harder to rile up than Sebastian. Two: she has no sympathy for someone like him. Three: acting out in front of her is hardly worth it if she’s just going to react like this. She’s not fun.

Those impossibly vibrant eyes watch him, and he regards her with defiance, chin tilting up to look down at her. His eye is pale blue, the color more washed out than usual beneath the overcast sky.

“I don’t know how to put this in a way that you will understand, that you will believe me...so I’ll say it plainly. I am no longer a danger to either of them. Sebastian and Lily are safe—from me, anyways.” He knows she won’t take a statement like that at face value. It’s wise to be skeptical, and he can’t fault her for that.

“I’m not denying what happened in Union, but there were extenuating circumstances that led to that situation. If you had access to information about me, you should realize that terrorizing children is not my typical motivation. We are no longer in Union, and Lily is no longer the Core. As such, she means nothing to me.” His point being that even someone like him sees hunting down a child as beneath him.

“They weren’t easy to break away from,” Kidman agrees, which isn’t giving anything away since she’s just reiterating what he’s just said. What she doesn’t explain is that she had a direct hand in dismantling that organization from the inside. What she doesn’t explain is that it’s gone, the agents dead and their computer systems fried. If he doesn’t already know that, there’s no point in telling him. Not yet, anyway.

It’s clear he wants a reaction to his next statement though, and she doesn’t give one. There’s no shift in her steely expression. “You’re expecting me to answer another one of your questions when you haven’t answered one of mine?” The question comes out as more of a statement, and that’s deliberate; she’s not giving anything in way of a hint about her connection to Sebastian.

“I’ll ask you again: why are you still here?”

The mention of Sebastian has her feeling even more irate than she was initially. 

She’s a cagey one, isn’t she? As to be expected from her how she holds herself, but frustrating nonetheless. 

More bothersome is Kidman’s insistence in repeating the same question. Why are you still here?

Well, if she wants a direct, open, and honest answer, she’s about to get one.

“Why?” he echoes. His upper lip curls in derision, the visible portion of his face twisting into a mask of cold, totally intentional fury. Not anger at Kidman, necessarily, but something seated deeper. An old wound, fetid and infected.

“I have nowhere else to go. That’s why. MOBIUS took a year of my life from me, more if you take into account my time spent trying to get into Theodore Wallace’s good graces—I’m sure you’re familiar with him. And in return, I have been left with nothing. All that being free from STEM has done is lock me in another cage. Even if I deigned to leave, to go back to my motherland—” he scoffs at the idea— “there’d be no home for me there either.” 

At that, his affect goes flat, the lines of his face smoothing out. Rage curtained quickly by a veneer of politeness. 

He smiles.

She doesn’t move as she considers his words, weighing her options—there isn’t much risk with using her name. She’s not afraid of him, particularly not here in the real world, which is a conclusion she reaches quickly.

That doesn’t mean she answers right away, though, letting the silence sit between them for a few breaths. “Juli Kidman,” she answers finally. “Ex-MOBIUS.” There’s a slowness to the way she says it, as though she’s making sure he at least gets that one fact right.

But she’s also sure that will still instill some fear in him nonetheless, which is fine by her. That’s also all he’s getting from her; all he asked for what her name, after all, which Kidman gave readily enough. If he wants any other answers, he’ll have to ask for them like he did this one.

“Kidman.” Hmm. “Ex-MOBIUS.” How interesting. Especially if that second part is true. At the moment, beside her, he’s not doubting it. 

“I’m almost impressed. From what little I know, they can’t have been easy to break away from.” Even calling it a little bit of knowledge might be too generous. Theodore was his main connection to the organization, as well as his only source of information aside from what he could glean during the downfall of Union. MOBIUS never gave the impression of being a merciful group. 

He turns his head to watch her in earnest, preempting his next question. “Are you a friend of Sebastian’s, then?” Simple, but the words are barbed with implication. 

The confusion in his expression is enough for her—unsurprisingly, he has no idea who she is, and that’s something that works in her favor. She continues to fix him with a glare that makes a slight shift into unamused territory rather than just steely, just for another breath or two.

Then Kidman stands and crosses the distance from her bench to his without a word or shift of her expression and, despite her arms uncrossing, there’s still something closed-off about her. She sits on the edge of the bench, looking out at the greenery ahead of her. “Stefano Valentini, was it?” This is the only time her lavender gaze flicks to him from the corner of her eyes before locking straight ahead once more. “I thought you’d died in STEM, yet here you are.”

Her arms cross again. “I’m not surprised by that. It’s happened before. But why are you still here in Krimson City?” There’s an edge to her voice; it’s an accusation. It’s not a question of why did you stay, but one of why haven’t you left?

Well—her coming over to join him wasn’t exactly what he was expecting. 

His arm drops to his side, and as she sits, he tenses, ever so slightly. Like a nervous animal that’s beginning to register they aren’t the most dangerous creature here. 

“Getting right to the point, aren’t you?” He adjusts his position in an effort to look more relaxed than he actually is, slouching forward slightly, hands coming together to hold the camera in his lap. He’s glad he doesn’t have to hold her gaze with the one eye he has. She’s almost intimidating. Who the hell has violet eyes anyways? She must be wearing contacts. That’s it, right?

“Honestly, I keep asking myself the same question,” is all he supplies. It’s worth being coy, for now. 

And the more he hears it, the more he has an inkling that her voice is familiar to him, somehow.