[ Jess came out to keep an extremely distant eye on the new arrivals, see if anyone stuck out as a possible concern for Kilgrave's upcoming release. Since she already kind of sees everything through the lens of a noir movie, she doesn't mind the old timey TV-o-vision very much, herself. Tones down the more garish jumpsuits and ruins Kevin's vibe; when she saw him, he was a drab grey, same as everyone else. She hears that everyone has one person who might appear normal to them and no one else, and Jess doesn't know who hers could be if not Kilgrave, but thank every angelic fuck in all the garrisons of heaven, it's not.
She doesn't realize that it's Trish, not right away; the golden straw of her hair glows, even matted wetly to her head, and Jess is behind her, can't see her face, but feels instinctively who it is. Cue tumult of emotions: Elation, fear, relief, guilt, so on, back and so forth. Her heart's a goddamn ping pong ball. Her body lurches forward, mind lagging behind the physical imperative to see her sister's face. Jess trudges and then trots up. It's not far yet she arrives short of breath. ]
Trish? [ Jess reaches for her arm, willing herself too weakly not to shatter the illusion with such a childish tactile urge, to have her dirty fingertips leave dusty spots on the cotton. Fuck. She didn't want her to be real, and she did. Shit. It was like 70/30. ]
4 leaps out back of moving van
She doesn't realize that it's Trish, not right away; the golden straw of her hair glows, even matted wetly to her head, and Jess is behind her, can't see her face, but feels instinctively who it is. Cue tumult of emotions: Elation, fear, relief, guilt, so on, back and so forth. Her heart's a goddamn ping pong ball. Her body lurches forward, mind lagging behind the physical imperative to see her sister's face. Jess trudges and then trots up. It's not far yet she arrives short of breath. ]
Trish? [ Jess reaches for her arm, willing herself too weakly not to shatter the illusion with such a childish tactile urge, to have her dirty fingertips leave dusty spots on the cotton. Fuck. She didn't want her to be real, and she did. Shit. It was like 70/30. ]