As usual, Lydia gets up in the morning and dresses in the God awful red jumpsuit to start her day. Normally, she'd see if Dick — or now, Matt — wanted to walk with her to the morning briefing, but she's running a little late. She doesn't even really have time to pull her hair up, so she just goes, ponytail holder around her wrist to throw her hair up while she's in the meeting.
Just like she always does, Lydia moves into the common area and scans the crowd in search of Barry and Ray. Easily, they're her best friends here, and without question, they're the two people she trusts the most. Steve and Tony come in a close second, if she has to rank, with Root close behind. Everyone else, really, is kind of superfluous to Lydia so far. She acknowledges that they're there, has spoken to a handful of them, but hasn't made any real connections.
Her eyes catch sight of a familiar face and Lydia stops dead in her tracks, her breath catching, throbbing in her throat.
It's just like Ronan, she tells herself, but even that doesn't really calm her down any. He looks like Jackson, but he isn't. She looks like Allison, but she isn't; she can't be. Shake it off, just go find Ray, you'll be fine.
With that silent pep talk, Lydia runs a hand through her long, red hair and then pinches the bridge of her nose, continuing to scan the crowd for her friends. They'll distract her. If nothing else, Ray's overwhelming and often inexplicable level of general cheerfulness should do the trick. So she keeps walking, past the girl with a strained effort not to look at her more closely — Ronan had a tragic hair accident and some tattoos to differentiate him; maybe she has piercings or a birthmark, or something — and she finally stops a few yards later, turning and looking back toward the door, thinking maybe she's missed them both or maybe Ray and Barry are even later today than she is.
no subject
Just like she always does, Lydia moves into the common area and scans the crowd in search of Barry and Ray. Easily, they're her best friends here, and without question, they're the two people she trusts the most. Steve and Tony come in a close second, if she has to rank, with Root close behind. Everyone else, really, is kind of superfluous to Lydia so far. She acknowledges that they're there, has spoken to a handful of them, but hasn't made any real connections.
Her eyes catch sight of a familiar face and Lydia stops dead in her tracks, her breath catching, throbbing in her throat.
It's just like Ronan, she tells herself, but even that doesn't really calm her down any. He looks like Jackson, but he isn't. She looks like Allison, but she isn't; she can't be. Shake it off, just go find Ray, you'll be fine.
With that silent pep talk, Lydia runs a hand through her long, red hair and then pinches the bridge of her nose, continuing to scan the crowd for her friends. They'll distract her. If nothing else, Ray's overwhelming and often inexplicable level of general cheerfulness should do the trick. So she keeps walking, past the girl with a strained effort not to look at her more closely — Ronan had a tragic hair accident and some tattoos to differentiate him; maybe she has piercings or a birthmark, or something — and she finally stops a few yards later, turning and looking back toward the door, thinking maybe she's missed them both or maybe Ray and Barry are even later today than she is.