A western standoff.
That's what this is, thinks Lili. Kashira on one side, the rest of the crew on the other. Auren's brows are crossed and his bottom lip is slightly jutting out, while Ysh'vanna's fingers are knitted and resting in front of her. Avett is standing with his arms folded; his attention is clearly elsewhere.
And the girl of the hour, Kashira Hellsborne, looks about as pale as a red-hued individual can get.
"My name is Kashira," she says with her eyes glued to the table. "My specialisation is casting, and I can do both front and backline, though I wasn't able to get my license before all of this happened…"
She gestures to the air vaguely, allowing her hands to waver for a split second too long before dropping them back to her sides. Lili tries not to grimace, but Avett catches her thinned-out lips anyway.
He shoots her a look. Just as bad as you, princess.
Lili isn't going to bother with giving him a second glance.
"That's fair." Ysh'vanna nods. "We could use a bit more manpower at the back."
Auren coughs. "I beg your pardon?"
The captain turns to her backline caster, her eyes filled with both apology and hard-set steel. "It'll be healthy for you in the long run, Draksparrow. You've always needed a helper back there."
He looks to Kashira, then leans into Ysh'vanna's ear and lowers his voice. "She is not Eldrakian, and I have gotten by with your presence quite fine."
"Keyword is by, Auren." Without a care for subtlety, she projects her voice over the table for the little caster to hear. "Now you'll have someone to watch your back and to teach in our downtimes."
Auren opens his mouth to object, but one more glare from Ysh'vanna sets him straight and silent.
"Moving on," she continues as she shifts that absolute gaze back over to Kashira. "The IRC's got a strict eye on who passes through Earth's inter-realm portals, and you don't seem to have a license. I'm not trying to accuse you of anything just yet, but how'd you get through?"
Doe-like eyes meet cold, hard steel. "School trip."
"S-school trip?" Ysh'vanna tips her head in incredulence.
"Yes."
She turns to her crew with a nervous chuckle. "They're letting kids go sightseeing on Earth now?"
Avett shrugs. "It's true. Visited in my second year."
Ysh'vanna sucks in a breath through her clenched teeth. Lili doesn't blame her. Earth is a hellscape that serves to remind the off-landers of what they could lose should they fail to defend their respective realms from the Migration—to bring vulnerable, young people to such a desolate world feels tasteless, like the equivalent of taking fourth graders to a slaughterhouse.
"Explains where our fifteen percent’s going,” Ysh’vanna mumbles, but her smile is sardonic. She lets the warmth reach her eyes once she notices the worry on Kashira’s features. “Don’t worry, you’re fine. It’s just housekeeping to know where our colleagues come from.”
“Colleagues,” Kashira says, coughing, “but I don’t have my license yet.”
Avett steps forward. “Neither did Lilith here. Plucked her right from a broken down shack in the middle of the Hive wilds. You’re far from unqualified, believe me.”
Lili expects the girl to heave a sigh of relief, but she fixes Avett with a genuine grin instead. “That’s amazing,” she says. “You’re all amazing.”
“Uh, right. Thanks.” It’s Avett’s turn to grimace now. It’s slight enough for Kashira not to notice, but obvious enough for Lili to know that something’s up.
Following Kashira’s initiation is a steaming platter of various Therian roots for lunch, of which the girl scarfs down with gusto. Midway through the meal she bites down on her tongue in her excitement, and though she tries to hide the accident, it doesn’t go unnoticed by Lili. She wonders how long it’s been since Kashira’s last, tangible meal. She wonders how she’s been fed for the past few years for that matter.
Lili doesn’t ask, because that would be rude.
After showing Kashira around the layout of the Winnow, Lili decides to mess around a bit before bed and to sit against the outer wall of the ship with her bottle of Gallian blue wine. She doesn’t know what she’s going to do with it—the liquor flows down her throat like she’s drinking hot sand, and the taste is sweet enough to induce a headache in one sip. It’s all she’s got right now though, and at this point Lili isn’t sure if she’s looking to get drunk or if she just likes the taste of alcohol.
She snorts. The taste of alcohol, really? She uncaps the bottle, pinches her nose, and tilts her head to the sky. It tastes like shit, and she has to fight the urge to immediately hurl.
“That’s really pathetic.”
Someone snatches the bottle out of her grasp, and Lili has to squint through her teary eyes to see the perpetrator. His blue jacket and cat-like silhouette gives his identity away.
“What is—?” she tries to spit out, but the stench of alcohol is acting as an impromptu gag order on her. Avett sighs and drops down next to her. He examines the bottle with narrowed eyes.
“Gallian blue…” he says. “You’re really just going to chug this by yourself? It’s literally syrup. It’s disgusting.”
“Auren gave it to me.” Lili swipes at her mouth with a sleeve.
“Of course.”
“There’s a lot of history behind its taste.”
“History doesn’t matter if you’re sitting out here, moping around by yourself and drinking the candyman’s ejaculate. What’s up?”
Lili keeps her mouth shut. By now the alcohol should have settled into her head as a steady thrum, but it’s as if she’d never had it in the first place. She jerks her chin at the bottle in Avett’s hands.
He groans and fills the cap with wine. “Fine.”
She watches him swallow and wince. Then he pours another cap and hands it to Lili.
They take turns pouring each other the wine. Around the twentieth pass, Avett holds his hand out to stop her and coughs into his sleeve. Lili puts down the bottle, and it touches the asphalt with a clack.
“I’m fucked,” he gasps out. “Put that shit away.”
She does as he says and screws the cap back on. He is indeed, as he says, totally ‘fucked’—his face is flushed beyond belief, and his breathing has turned sporadic. Lili’s not sure why he’d chosen to have that much—getting drunk fucking sucks in the long run—but she knows he’s probably got several reasons as to why his mood’s in the gutter. She knows how much Avett despises the mere idea of having to potentially meet with another A ranker. She knows that the money Alexei is offering to them is nothing to scoff at either. Avett has been left with a once in a lifetime opportunity worth ditching all morals for, and that leaves him in an awkward position.
Lili is scared too—rightfully so. She’s felt the presence of an A rank before, has bathed in its power like a child at a hot spring. There’s no need for her to remember the encounter—her body can recall the meeting with startling accuracy, as if that power had already been engraved into her DNA from the very beginning.
“H-how?”
She looks back at her partner. He’s blinking at her slowly, like he’s trying to comprehend the incomprehensible for the first time.
Lili asks, “How what?”
“You’re not drunk…”
She touches a hand to her cheek—there’s no Asian flush, and there aren’t any red splotches on her hands either. “I told you, ever since Ava di—”
“I fucking know you’re tolerant,” he snaps. “But this shit isn’t normal. Look at me, then look at you. We’ve been matching each other drink for drink, and you were drinking before I even got here.”
Lili falls silent.
He continues, “You know, when we flew over to the Hive after the mission, I caught Alexei drinking… fuck, probably rubbing alcohol or something. It was green, and all he did was smile at me and hide the bottle under his desk like some fucking chronic drunk. Smelt like shit, but it was potent, I could tell.”
Absinthe. “Drinking from the bottle?” Lili asks.
“From a glass. Prick’s too up his own ass to drink from the bottle, but he’ll chug it if it’s in some fancy glassware.”
Same difference, she thinks. “What are you getting at?”
“What was Ava?” he asks, his voice soft yet demanding.
She shrugs. Friend? Foe? Has Lili ever known?
“I don’t mean like what she meant to you, dumbass. I meant biologically. I meant if she shat from the same hole she pissed from or if she had scales or anything, because I’m starting to put two and two together and it’s all adding up to five. I’m missing something.”
“Why do you care?”
“It’s not a crime to want to know things, princess.”
“You’re nosy.”
"Bet there's a reason why you're not answering with a simple 'Human,' huh."
Lili coughs. Despite Avett's intoxicated state, he's still managed to catch her in one of his verbal traps. A single moment of hesitation is all the confirmation that he needs.
"She did this to you," he mumbles, "didn't she? She's the reason why you're never drunk, why you're an overseer. Just like Alexei."
Lili doesn't respond. Avett isn't a mind reader, but he might as well be one. She wants to tell him all about her past, she really does, but that would mean sewing together the chasm between the spoken word and the unspoken traumas of Ava's untimely death. Lili doesn't know if she can cross that gap yet as she is now, let alone if she ever will. Hell is to lose your tongue in the presence of your caregivers, and she'd gotten rid of her lips a long time ago.
Avett resumes staring off into the abyss of Alexei's makeshift hangar. "Bear with me for a second longer. I need to drop my sorrows off somewhere as well."
She leans against the ship. Go ahead.
"Think the new recruit… has a crush on me."
"I think you're delusional."
"Ok, hear me out. Have you seen how she looks at me?" He shivers; Lili wonders if he’s shivering out of disgust or if it's the alcohol. "Big, teardrop eyes, over-friendly disposition—"
"I think she just looks like that."
"I'm not trying to convince you that she's got the hots for me, and that I want to get with her. I'm trying to tell you that she's seventeen and I'm twenty, so it's weird as shit, and she's also a bit overbearing."
She bobs her head in acknowledgement, though she’s definitely still skeptical.
Avett snorts. "Just because you've never had someone fall in love with you, doesn't mean that it can't happen to someone else. Don't be so bitter."
"Wow, aren't you the love expert."
"With this face? Of course I am."
"Bet you've got people pining after you all the time too," Lili mumbles under her breath. "Lucky cunt."
Her partner straightens himself quickly, his ears swivelling into formation as a wide grin stretches across his face. "Did I just hear what I think I just heard?"
"What?" Lili grumbles.
"Was that a pickup line? For me?"
Her mood sours like a bottle of milk that's been left out in the midday January sun. She thinks of setting him straight, to defend her innocence like a man on trial, but she stops her outburst and clamps her lips shut, because that's exactly what Avett wants—to make a spluttering mess out of Lili.
"In your dreams," she manages to spit out.
"Lilith, I'm gonna be honest." He's wobbling on the spot now like he's forgotten how to balance himself. "If someone held a blaster up to my head and told me to fuck someone aboard the Winnow, I would take that gun and shoot me myself. But if suicide wasn't an option, well…"
Lili stands up. "I have to go."
"No—please!" He latches onto her ankle like she's just walked off with his precious GlassLink. "Don't go, please Lilith!"
She stares him down from her vantage point. He really is, as he's said before, 'totally fucked.' If his confession hadn't convinced her of his inebriated state before, his completely reddened face and drooling maw does.
Finally, a whimper escapes his lips, and he buries his face into the concrete. "I drank too much. I need you to hold my hair back."
Lili can tell that he needs all the help that he can get.
—
"You know, if you're trying to convince your captain that you two aren't romantically involved, you're doing a pretty bad job by sneaking out and drinking by yourselves."
Lili flinches at the touch of Ysh'vanna's sharp words. She'd caught the two of them last night on their way back from Alexei's bathrooms, and she hadn’t been pleased about it at all. She hadn't said a word as Lili and Avett passed her on their way up the ship, but Lili had known her stance on things by the way she'd asked for them to hand over the bottle of Gallian blue: with a hand on her popped hip, and a completely still face.
"I'm not like Auren, ok?" She quickens her pace in order to match Lili's stride. "I like shooting the shit and getting drunk. Don't drink without me next time, especially not by yourselves."
Lili doesn't even bother looking at Avett for help. His eyes have sunken into his face, leaving dark circles above his cheeks, and he's walking like a zombie that's seen his fair share of reanimations. Occasionally, he'd hold his head in one shaky hand and groan; a testament to his manic-fuelled binge last night.
And of course, Lili is absolutely fine. Just like the bona fide overseer that she is.
They round the corner into the main hall, where Kata’lana waits for them with what looks to be a clipboard in hand. On closer inspection, Lili sees various transparent windows floating on the surface of something that can only be defined as an enlarged GlassLink.
The Draconian taps a finger into her screen, and the board turns opaque. “Been waiting. About ten minutes.”
At first, nobody answers the plucky girl. Then Avett says, “It’s ten thirty. We’re on time.”
“I know. Just saying.” She turns before Avett can fire an answer back at her. “Follow. Alexei is in the basement.”
Ignoring the ominous subtext of what ‘the basement’ could possibly be, they trail Kata’lana to the door at the end of the hall, whereupon she slaps her ID against a scanner. The doors slide open, and she beckons to the others as she takes her first step down a zig-zagging line of steep stairs.
For the remainder of the trip, Kata’lana is as silent as a brick wall. The walls hug the edges of the staircase tightly for the first few flights, but then the corridor falls away to reveal a large, open laboratory that's not unlike the one they'd visited in New Therius. All similarities end there, however—the interior is warmly lit like an old library, and instead of vats, there are rows upon rows of bric-a-brac. Lili can spot a tea cup, a plastic golden cane, and a bag of glossy marbles all in one corner. It takes a moment for her to recognise that these are artifacts.
Kata'lana takes them between a maze of tightly packed and towering bookshelves before they reach their destination. Like a clearing in a forest, the room opens up to a glade of worn-down sofas, scraggly rugs and time-weathered tables. Alexei sits in the midst of all this, reclining in a beige lazy boy with a hardback novel and his chin tilted into a hand, surrounded by all sorts of old tomes from the era of God knows when. Kashira is already sitting a good few metres away from him in her own chair.
"Bought them," Kata'lana says.
Alexei snaps his book shut. "Welcome to my true study, esteemed guests and Avett. Please, take a seat.”
“Classy,” Avett mumbles.
The crew find their seats around the central pile of rugs. The chair Lili’s sitting on is made out of faux leather, and it has already begun to flake off at the armrests, revealing their tattered insides for the world to see. It’s hard for Lili to get comfortable when it feels like a spider could crawl up her leg at any moment, but she manages to relax after fixing her eyes back on Alexei and Kata’lana.
“As you are aware, Kashira and Lili are the keys to liberating Earth and the rest of the realms, both discovered and undiscovered, from the threat of any further Migrations.” Alexei motions to Kata’lana, who nods in approval. All of Alexei’s information is gathered and sifted through mostly by the younger Draconian woman, Lili realises, and it is Alexei’s job to navigate diplomatic matters with his silver tongue.
“Thing is. It’s impossible for Kashira to channel the ether she needs to create the prophecy that we need concurrently. Even with Lili overfuelling Kashira with her unique ether, her body will only be able to hold an excess of twenty milliliters, for a total of roughly one hundred milliliters—the minimum amount of ether that she needs would be around five hundred.” Kata'lana rolls up her sleeves, then unfolds them again; Lili recognises this as a nervous habit. “However, her status as a New Order Gallian means we can give her ether capabilities a bit of oomf. And so I present to you: the Catalyst.”
She reveals a holographic model display on her GlassLink. With a flick of her fingers, she sets the model spinning. The Catalyst consists of several layers of round shells which rotate about a central object—further observation shows that the central object has yet to be modelled; this must be where the artifact goes. The other mechanisms are far too complicated for a layman such as Lili to grasp, but Avett seems to be looking intently at the model like he’s reading from an intriguing book.
Before Kata’lana can explain her contraption, Avett says, “You know that the chance of using any kind of draconic artifact as a battery without repercussion is next to zero, right? This thing is more likely to blow up in your face than to actually work.”
The scientist flicks her eyes at Lili, then back at Avett. “It’s possible to restore their functionality by using Kashira’s affinity. And from the scale of such a feat, it shouldn’t be too demanding for her. Not on the scale of ending a thousand year phenomenon that spans multiple planes of reality, no.” She motions at the rotating model, and it phases out of existence.
Avett sits back, satisfied for now.
Alexei picks up where his assistant left off. "As Kata'lana has garnered from the IRC's weekly reports, there appears to be a high amount of draconic activity surrounding the area between New Therius and the Afflatus. Though the Palatable yet remains in the area, it should not prove a threat to any well-versed mercenary team—as we've already stated, A07 exudes no aura."
Kata'lana taps at her GlassLink a few times, and another hologram bursts into the air. This one is a painstakingly created replica of the Palatable, and to the side is a comprehensive biographical analysis of its capabilities. Lili squints at the miniature dragon; though the mesh isn’t coloured, she knows that the Palatable has scales of hot white, and that its eyes aren’t black and beady like the Equaliser’s, but wide and vivid. She swallows and tries her best to ignore the sting of bile at the back of her throat.
Kata’lana continues, "We're using A07's artifacts because of this dragon's aptitude for ether storage and control. Research from the last Migration states that the reason why A07 doesn't have an aura is because of its acute command over ether. It has the ability to release its aura in controlled bursts instead, and thus, it would be logical to conclude that it would also be able to store large amounts of ether without straining its body for long periods of time. As such, each specimen is highly adaptable, and the specifics of their abilities vary to suit the demands of their environment. Traits such as these are something Kashira would heavily benefit from, but its precise control over its aura will likely have a hallucinogenic effect on your mind should you somehow alert A07 to your position." She pushes a strand of white hair behind her ear and falls silent again.
"You'll be heading into the contact zone within the week, and you’re expected to come back alive, so I would suggest studying up," muses Alexei. "Kata'lana will send all of this data to your 'Links; I highly recommend a thorough sifting. They're her own collated notes on the beast, afterall."
"Not a big deal." She shoves her hands into her pockets and looks to the ground. "Just got pissed that all the data I needed wasn't in one place. Did it myself instead. Am I done here?"
The overseer exhales a silent laugh through his nose and says nothing more. Kata’lana heads for a space between the bookshelves and disappears in seconds, presumably to either gather her wits or to return to her research.
For a moment, nobody dares to speak. They watch the model on Kata’lana’s GlassLink spin on the spot with their breaths held and their nerves frozen.
Something in Alexei’s coat pocket beeps. He curses, withdraws his GlassLink, and gives his display the stink eye. “Apologies, it seems that our meeting will have to be cut short.” He stands and adjusts his coat so that it hugs his neck closely, as if he’s protecting himself from the elements. “Just a bit of riot control.”
He smiles. He leaves the same way Kata’lana left.
Then Avett says, “So how are we getting past this… hulk of a dragon without getting spotted? It’s no B rank—this is big game.” He inhales sharply. “The improved senses are nothing to sneeze at.”
“Actually,” Auren says as he flits his eyes between Kashira and Lili, “I may know a method. Captain O’Raal, if we could borrow the ship for a quick demonstration and rehearsal.”
She gives him a thumbs up before turning to Lili and Kashira. “Have fun, kiddos.”
—
Along with Kashira and Auren, Lili stands on the Winnow’s deck. Her cloak whips around her, hugging her arms and legs skin-tight. Lili isn’t sure how she’s meant to be standing up here with the wind in her clothes and the clouds in her face, but Auren nods to Ysh’vanna and the captain goes to press a button at her side.
The tubular-like constructs that line each side of the deck fan out, revealing faceted crystalline cores—it reminds Lili of a sunflower’s disc in the midday sun. The wind stops immediately, and Lili teeters forward, her body flailing off-kilter from the sudden lack of pressure at her back. When she manages to steady herself, she catches the slightest smirk from Avett as he watches from inside the ship. It must be so easy to be perfectly balanced all the time as a Kattish. She scowls back at him.
“What are…?” She beckons to the tubes.
Auren opens his mouth to answer, but Kashira is faster. “Coppersilk—named after the Kattish mechanic who developed them, Captain Wick Coppersilk of the Bludgeoner. The highest rank any primary mechanic has achieved, and the most decorated man of his rank.” She eyes the ship’s windshield nervously, and it takes a second for Lili to notice who it is she’s looking at. “But we just call them wind blockers most of the time.”
Lili looks to the coveted man of the hour. As she’s guessed, Avett hasn’t heard a lick of Kashira’s tirade on the achievements of his race—no, that would be incorrect. A subtle flicker of his ear is all Lili needs to know that he’s choosing to ignore her. He can hear just fine. Better than fine, unfortunately.
And of course, Auren is oblivious to all of this. He picks up where Kashira leaves off. “What we are about to cast is an elementary technique that all Portal Keepers are required to master before their first excursion.”
Kashira’s eyes light up. “You’re a Portal Keeper?”
He coughs. “I was. Most Eldrakians were.” Upon seeing the confusion on Lili’s face, he adds, “Portal Keepers are, essentially, the sanitation workers who keep the portals connecting each realm in a stable condition. Occasionally the portals will misalign, just an iota, resulting in a misteleportation during transit—we remedy these anomalies.”
Lili winces as she imagines splintered ships and broken bodies, each construct and limb torn asunder by an obstructing mountain or building. Auren hastily corrects himself. “Just an iota, Lili. The dragons have been known to take control of these portals from time to time, and they will occasionally take control of them in an attempt to force a mass Migration to a previous realm. Therefore, the portals will align themselves to an area brimming with draconic activity, which often results in an unnecessary encounter.”
She shudders. His explanation isn’t any better than the alternative.
“That’s where the elementary technique you were talking about comes in, right?” asks Kashira.
“Yes.” Auren seems taken aback. “I am surprised that a layman as yourself would be knowledgeable about the training process. As it is impossible to know in advance if the portals are misaligned, it is protocol to cast a shield of sorts prior to allowing a ship through the portal, thereby masking their presence to any lurking dragons. When done correctly and with a sufficient amount of casters, the shield should be nigh-impermeable and will remain in place for another twenty hours before it will begin to show signs of wear.”
“So that’s what you do on the ship when we’re out,” says Lili. “Keeping up the shield.”
“Certainly not twiddling my thumbs.” He looks to the sky again—by now, the Winnow has reached high enough altitudes for Lili to skim her hand along the edge of the clouds if she wished to. To her surprise, the air isn’t thin; she supposes that this is due to the work of the wind blockers.
Kashira looks with him. “How long does the shield last with only three casters?”
The answer comes curtly. “Six hours, though with my constant presence it should last for as long as I wish it to.”
Lili asks, “What about the other part? The more workers, the less likely we’ll be spotted? We’ve only got three—”
She stops herself when she sees Auren’s steeled jaw and distant gaze.
“I do not engage with the practice of wandering into a lost fight,” he says. “Now, watch carefully.”
For the next two hours or so, Auren trains Lili and Kashira to their bones. As it turns out, creating a shield for the ship is just like warding a larger, far less precise version of Lili’s body. Auren encourages the same technique—the faceted make of the shield is what keeps it upright for longer, he teaches. Auren also explains that the procedure only works on inanimate objects, and that attempts to shield anything beyond an inanimate object are far less effective than shielding a ship or a building.
By the time the hour’s up, Lili feels like she’s been training straight for a year. Time seems to crawl by at a snail’s pace in the skies; Lili chalks it up to the fact there’s simply nothing to look at but a sea of white and blue. Kashira isn’t one for small conversation either, and neither is Auren.
Not that Lili would be any good at small talk. As the engines sputter out of life and the Winnow touches down in the hangar again, she finds herself actually craving the comfort of her more sociable colleagues. Mostly Avett.
She taps her ID against the scanner and walks through the sliding doors, only to find Avett and Ysh’vanna engrossed in what seems to be a… Lili squints at the text floating on the ship’s navigational display. What used to be indecipherable buttons and baffling iconography has been replaced by various items that Lili has seen before during her trip to the Hive’s supermarket. This is a shopping list.
Avett points at the list vaguely. “There. Sneak it in there, he’ll never notice it.”
“Roger, captain,” Ysh’vanna answers. She taps at her GlassLink, and sure enough, ‘vodka’ appears between ‘battery chambers’ and ‘wholegrain bread.’
“Who will not notice it?” Auren asks.
Ysh’vanna swipes her finger across her GlassLink, and her entry disappears from the list. “Changed our priorities around. I’ve just had a chat with Avett, and he’s agreed that five replacement battery chambers is a bit overkill on our finances. He only needs two, and he’ll barely notice it. The difference, I mean.”
Avett coughs, but Auren nods in approval. It’s too late—his fate is sealed. His vodka-less fate.
“I had better not catch you referring to the wrong captain again, Ysh’vanna,” Auren warns.
“Roger, cap—esteemed backline caster Auren Draksparrow.” Ysh’vanna grins sheepishly. "Anyway, we got some plans planned out for the relic retrieval."
At this, the Eldrakian's face lights up. "Oh? Do impart this knowledge upon us."
"Naturally." She swipes a finger across her screen again, and another image—the model of the Palatable—takes the place of the shopping list. "First off, this guy here prefers to sleep with a roof over his head. We'll likely find most of its artifacts indoors, where our ship won't fit."
The casters freeze. Lili can't even feel her fucking ether anymore, let alone her arms, and now her captain's telling them that their two hours of training won't be useful after all?
Ysh'vanna brings a hand up before Auren can speak a single word. "Not so fast. It's true that it keeps a vast majority of its artifacts in its nest, but take a look." The screen zooms up on a particular box of text. "While it doesn't need calories to subsist, as most dragons don't, it enjoys hunting wildlife for sport once in a fortnight. There's a good chance that it's left artifacts scattered around the area from these trips. We should be able to stay in the ship for the rest of the mission. Those shields should remain relevant."
Kashira heaves a sigh. "Thank the stars!" she says. Then she covers her mouth in shock. She apologises profusely and promptly stumbles into the bathroom, though not before throwing a yearning—and lingering—gaze at Avett.
Emphasis on the lingering. Lili watches the girl stop at the door for eons, just struggling with the lock mechanism and fiddling with her ID. It only slides open after an indeterminate amount of time.
Then she’s scurrying out of the room quickly, leaving Avett with the freedom to throw his own disgusted look at Lili. She raises and lowers her shoulders just a touch for him; it's a blessing to be socially awkward and relatively average in terms of looks, because she wouldn't be able to handle pining and crushes at all. She only pities Avett at this point.