Blackout (Solange)

[The Exodus]

Tristan Vidal

The rain hadn’t been that bad when Tristan drove home from work. But by the time he was ready to pick Solange up for their date, the windshield-wipers were useless against the wind and the water. A flash of lighting burnt up the sky and there was a weird burst of green light in the distance. Tristan didn’t know lightning came in green. He’d seen it in purple, in white, in blue. But green?

He and Solange had eight-thirty reservations across the city tonight at a four-star restaurant, but as Tristan stepped out of his car and was drenched by the storm, he couldn’t help but think only the bravest, craziest foodies were even trying to dine out tonight. He opened his umbrella, which was almost immediately turned inside out. By the time he reached the lobby of Solange’s apartment, Tristan was soaked. He left a trail of puddles behind him until he reached the third floor. By the time he reached Solange’s floor, he was a little less soggy.

Outside, there was another peel of thunder, another flash of lightning, another flash of green. And this time, the lights outside and in the hall gave a quivering flicker. Tristan pressed Solange’s doorbell. And while he waited, he looked out the hall window.

The Eiffel Tower was dark.

[blueeyeddevil]

Solange de Grace

She was basically ready to go, just in the process of deciding which heels went best with the dress she was wearing. It didn't help that her closet and bedroom lights kept giving a little flicker. Lilly had long since taken refuge under the bed but still gave a yowl every time a loud thunder clap boomed outside. Honestly, Solange couldn't blame her. It was getting louder and closer with every passing minute. The last one had been loud enough to rattle her windows which was a little disconcerting with the huge skylight she had.

She was half wondering if she and Tristan were even still on for the night. They'd wanted a night out for a change but with this storm of the century raging outside, it might not be such a good idea. She was just about to call her boyfriend to talk it over when she heard her doorbell ring. He'd braved the storm in order to come and get her? And who said chivalry was dead?! She smiled fondly to herself as she went to the door to answer.

A sympathetic little laugh suddenly rose in her throat when she opened the door to find her rain-logged boyfriend standing there. She covered her mouth to stifle it a bit, but looked at him affectionately.

"Oh, Trist...look at you," she said. She took his hand and pulled him inside. "Come on in. I'm going to get you a towel." She went to the hall closet where she kept her linens and pulled out a towel, handing it to him. "It is insane out there! I know we have reservations, but should we even try to get out in that?"

[The Exodus]

Tristan Vidal

Solange stood on the threshold in stark relief to Tristan. She looked stunning and amused, warm and dry. Tristan returned her affectionate smile. A ruined suit would be a small price to pay for this evening. They needed this – a night out on the town – after surviving the first week of interns.

"Oh, Trist...look at you," Solange said with a laugh, making him chuckle, too.

He did as she suggested and studied his suit jacket that desperately needed dry cleaning now and the strand of frizzy hair that escaped his ponytail – no doubt the rest was as bad. And then Tristan grinned at Solange. She’d get soaked, too, on the mad dash out to the car and they’d make a spectacle at the restaurant. Solange grabbed his hand and tugged him inside.

"Come on in. I'm going to get you a towel,” she said before marching to a closet.

Tristan ran a hand over his damp hair, smoothing out fly-aways in a last-ditch effort to look presentable. When Solange returned and handed him a towel, Tristan thanked her and immediately set to drying his face and hair. He pulled it down and scrubbed until he was mildly content.

"It is insane out there!" said Solange. "I know we have reservations, but should we even try to get out in that?"

“It’s just a rainstorm,” Tristan said, draping the towel over his shoulder like a bartender. As if on cue there was a protest of thunder that rattled Solange’s living room windows. Spoke too soon. He shook his head. “I saw green lightning on the way over. Other than that, it’s a perfectly normal rainstorm. I can call and push our reservations back by half an hour. It should let up by then…”

But when Tristan took his cellphone from his pocket – his slightly damp cellphone that now gargled to life – and placed a call, the other line was either busy or dead. He waited a few seconds and frowned before hanging up.

“Can’t get through,” he said. “I’ll bet everyone’s trying to cancel.”

[blueeyeddevil]

Solange de Grace

She wasn't sure how much good the towel would do at this point. His clothes were still going to be wet no matter if he wiped them off or not. And they were going to be going out in the rain again in just a short while, assuming they were still going to try to make their reservations. She should have known that doing her hair was just going to be a waste of time. But at least he saw her before hand. Though the way the storm was going outside, she wondered aloud if they should even bother trying to get out to the restaurant.

“It’s just a rainstorm,” he told her as he threw the towel over his shoulder. As if to contradict his statement, a loud burst of thunder practically shook the room. Solange jumped, startled as she gazed over at the windows that more closely resembled a waterfall than the Paris skyline. “I saw green lightning on the way over. Other than that, it’s a perfectly normal rainstorm." Tristan amended.

He pulled out his cellphone which had some how survived his soaking. "I can call and push our reservations back by half an hour. It should let up by then…” he said and dialed the number, but hung up a moment later. “Can’t get through. I’ll bet everyone’s trying to cancel.”

Solange frowned and nodded in agreement. "Why don't we wait for a while anyway," she suggested. "I'm sure with a storm like this we won't have much trouble getting in even if we do miss the reservation." Another loud crash filled the apartment and she found herself stepping closer to Tristan, gripping his sleeve. She wasn't necessarily afraid of storms, but she didn't enjoy them either.

[The Exodus]

OOC: Sorry for the delay! Between last night’s storm and this afternoon’s interment ceremony, I haven’t been near my laptop all day. BIC:

Tristan Vidal

It was also possible the line was dead. Tristan didn’t think of that until Solange frowned and understanding crept in. What he was dismissing as “just a rainstorm” had the potential to knock power-lines and telephone poles out for at least a little while.

"Why don't we wait for a while anyway," Solange suggested. "I'm sure with a storm like this we won't have much trouble getting in even if we do miss the reservation."

“Touché,” said Tristan.

Of course, if the restaurant lost its phone lines – or even its power – they’d probably be backed up by the time they arrived and dinner would take even longer. He held his tongue. They’d started the week out bickering about the interns; they didn’t need to argue about dinner reservations on personal time.

Tristan didn’t have long enough to do anything except agree anyways. Another bellow of thunder shook the windows. Solange grasped his arm so tightly that Tristan could feel her nails nip his skin through his clothes. As long as he wasn’t working, Tristan loved storms. He loved the bright colors that streaked the sky with each lightning strike; he loved the rhythm of the rain as it drummed against windows and rooftops. What he hated were soggy cemetery grounds the morning after. It never occurred to him to be frightened of the storm or even all that concerned. But Solange always had a knack for being concerned -- even frightened – of logically frightening things that he forgot to consider. She was the responsible one. A slight smile turned up Tristan’s lips. If he said anything, she’d deny it. He had enough sense – enough respect for Solange – to keep his mouth shut.

“Tell you what,” he said, prying her fingers from his arm gently. “I’m going to hang my jacket to dry. By the time it does, the rain will have stopped and we should be ready to go to dinner. Can you get me a hanger?”

Tristan slipped out of his suit jacket until he stood in his slacks and slightly damp – and now very wrinkled – white button-down. Goosebumps sprang up on the back of Tristan’s neck; it was cold outside of the jacket, but infinitely more comfortable.

There was another rumble of thunder. This one was even closer than the last. Immediately after, there was a bright, white streak of lightning that singed the air. Tristan moved to the window, distracted and fixated on the storm outside. It was a little stupid to stand right beside windows during a storm, but Tristan couldn’t help himself.

The streets were dark, except pin-pricks of light on the road that Tristan could only assume were headlights. Even the street lamps seemed somehow weaker, as if they were running on the last reserves of power. Beyond Solange’s street, blocks and blocks away in the direction Tristan had come from, the buildings were dark; entirely dark and outlined by the fading, evening light. Somewhere in the distance was Tristan’s neighborhood, but you couldn’t tell, thanks to the hulking shadows that could only be apartment complexes, businesses, the Eiffel Tower…

“Solange…” he called. “You should see this…”

[blueeyeddevil]

Solange de Grace

Solange didn't think she was particularly frightened of storms, but howling winds and rattling windows were enough to make anyone a little jumpy, she thought. Well, anyone except her boyfriend it seemed. She glanced up at him to see him smiling just slightly and honestly it made her feel a little better to see how calm he was being about all this. His amusement at her obvious nervousness gave her a sense of normalcy that she was needing in a crazy storm like this. She felt herself smiling back just a bit.

“Tell you what,” he said as uncurled her fingers from his arm. “I’m going to hang my jacket to dry. By the time it does, the rain will have stopped and we should be ready to go to dinner. Can you get me a hanger?"

She watched him slip out of his jacket, but instead of getting a hanger, she took it from him instead. "Actually, I'll just go ahead and hang it on the coat rack by the door. Just grab it when we walk out," she said. This was, of course, assuming that they were still going out. She tried to be optimistic but the torrential downpour was not showing any signs of letting up any time soon.

She had hung the coat up when she heard Tristan speak up again. “Solange…You should see this…” he said from over by the window. She tensed a bit. That phrase in that voice reminded her eerily of disaster movies and it never meant anything good.

She went to join him at the window and was surprised to find that the lights of the city that were normally lighting up the streets at this time were completely dark. Her brow furrowed when she saw this. This was definitely not a good sign.

"This is the only section that has any power...at least for several miles," she murmured. She glanced up at her boyfriend with a slightly concerned expression. "Where would the restaurant be? Are they having a black out too?" She gave a dejected sigh. "They may not even open back up tonight..."

[The Exodus]

Tristan Vidal

A sudden thought made Tristan queasy. His apartment was likely without power; so was the funeral home. If the power didn’t come back on soon, he’d have all sorts of damage control when the world went back to normal. He wrestled the worry away; grudging respect and awe surged up somewhere inside him. This wasn’t “just a storm” at all.

"This is the only section that has any power...at least for several miles," Solange murmured, coming up beside Tristan. He looked over at her. The concern hadn’t left her eyes. If anything, Tristan was the one whose expression was shifting. He could feel his mouth become a grim line. "Where would the restaurant be? Are they having a black out too?" She gave a dejected sigh. "They may not even open back up tonight..."

“There’s no way the power will stay out,” Tristan said, placing a hand on the small of Solange’s back. He didn’t feel as confident as he hoped he sounded.

There was another great crash – lightning, thunder, and one more, green shockwave outside. At that same moment, the power in the apartment went out. The only light entering Solange’s apartments came from the windows, from the lightning and the fading sunset.

Maybe I should stop talking before I jinx us even more.

[blueeyeddevil]

Solange de Grace

There were blackouts all over the city it seemed and as far as she could see from her window, no one was getting any power. Her first thought had been about the restaurant, wondering if they would even be open now if they were dealing with a power outage too. But then she instantly thought about the funeral home. Her stomach sunk at the thought of the problems that would arise if the power didn't come back on soon over there. She didn't say anything to Tristan, not wanting to worry him, but she had a feeling that his thoughts already heading in that direction judging by the concern that reaching his face.

“There’s no way the power will stay out,” he said, placing a comforting hand on her back.

He was answered quite promptly by the sound by another crash of thunder and flash of lightening. She suddenly realized what he'd been talking about with the green lightening. But as soon as it was gone, her apartment was plunged into semi-darkness. The sun was setting but would be completely gone in just a few minutes.

She gave a groan and though she knew what she would find, she went and tried the light switch anyway, to no avail of course. She distantly heard Lilly yowl in the bedroom, not pleased with the lack of light. She wasn't the only one.

"Oh great..." she muttered. Some date night this was turning out to be. "I have some candles in the kitchen. I'm going to look for those. See if you can find the flash lights in the side table over there." She distantly hoped that they still worked because she couldn't remember the last time she'd put batteries in them.

[The Exodus]

Tristan Vidal

Something inside the apartment yowled from somewhere unseen. Tristan tensed up, unsure if he was surprised, scared, or both. And then he remembered Solange’s cat, Lilly, and he exhaled shakily. That stupid cat was going to give him a heart attack.

"Oh great..." Solange muttered. “I have some candles in the kitchen. I'm going to look for those. See if you can find the flash lights in the side table over there."

Tristan pulled away from Solange’s side and moved in the direction she had pointed. There was still slim light from outside, so Tristan could basically see where he was going. “Basically” being the optimum word. On his way to the side table, he managed to trip over one of the ottomans and catch his shin on the coffee table. Tristan hissed, doing all he could not to swear at his girlfriend’s furniture. His legs had always been too long and his feet too big to be a textbook definition of graceful.

However, once Tristan opened the drawer of the side-table, his hands set to work, delicately picking through Solange’s belongings with surgical precision. He wasn’t snooping – he had a mission, after all – but Tristan couldn’t help but to peek at the things he found. She was (unfortunately) organized. Everything was placed in the drawers carefully; even a menu to Solange’s favorite Chinese delivery place and the television remote seemed deliberately stacked. The flashlights were right on top, next to the remote. Tristan pulled them out and clicked the “on” button of the first.

The light didn’t come on. It was an old flashlight; not the kind you could crank or shake for mechanical electricity. The second was of the same variety and it sputtered to life, emitting only the slenderest of glows. Tristan smacked it, hoping to better lodge the battery in place. The light didn’t get any brighter.

“Needs new batteries,” Tristan said, flicking the one working flashlight “off” to conserve power. “Did you find candles?”

[blueeyeddevil]

Solange de Grace

Very carefully she made her way over to the kitchen, using her knowledge of the layout of her apartment. In the shadowy depths of her apartment she could hear banging and thuds and what sounded like Tristan making vague sounds of frustration. She paused through her rifling of the kitchen drawer, looking over towards the end table where she could make our Tristan's shadowy form.

"Are you okay, babe," she called out to him, hoping he hadn't injured himself in the darkness.

She managed to find her small stash of candles alongside the lighter and she began pulling them out. Over by the end table she could see a faint glow but it didn't seem to lighting up any of the surrounding area. She sighed to herself...she knew she should have replaced the batteries in those things. She didn't even think she had that size battery at the moment.

“Needs new batteries,” Tristan told her as the glow died, confirming her suspicion. “Did you find candles?”

"Yes, hang on," she called. She lit a couple candles, enough to cast a light around the main room. "Those are size C right?" She rummaged through a different drawer in the kitchen and sighed. "I don't have any." She moved out of the kitchen, walking over to where the end table was. "Did you maybe see any with the..."

She didn't get to finish her though, because she suddenly forgot where the ottoman was located. She tripped, falling forward, straight into her boyfriend's arms.

[The Exodus]

Tristan Vidal

Tristan could hear Solange rummage through something – a drawer – in the kitchen for C-cell batteries. Tristan unscrewed the top of the flashlight and shook the useless batteries out and into his hand.

"I don't have any," Solange said.

Tristan put the flashlight and batteries down on top of the end table. Across the room, he could hear Solange move towards him. He tried to look over at her, but all Tristan could see was Solange’s silhouette. She trod the same, careful maze he’d taken to get where he was. Tristan managed to say: “Watch out for the—“ as Solange said, "Did you maybe see any with the..."

But neither of them finished their sentences. Tristan had only just turned around – perfectly in time to catch Solange as she tripped over the same ottoman that he was trying to warn her about. She landed against his chest and Tristan scooped her up instinctively.

“… Ottoman,” he finished, not bothering to bite back the amusement in his eyes, since he figured she couldn’t see him in the darkening apartment. “Watch out for the ottoman. Are you okay?”

[blueeyeddevil]

Solange de Grace

A small shriek of surprise when she collided with the ottoman that she had misjudged the placement of. It knocked her foot out from under her causing her to go falling forward into her boyfriend's waiting arms. He caught her as her own arms flew around his neck to help steady herself. She laughed slightly with relief, glad to have spared any kind of injury. And Tristan's arms around her felt warm and strong...very nice.

“… Ottoman,” he said, obviously finishing an earlier thought she hadn't heard. “Watch out for the ottoman. Are you okay?”

She smiled up at him and gave a nod. "I am...thanks to you," she said in a soft voice. "My hero." The batteries were forgotten as she placed a lingering kiss to his lips, lingering a little more than she had originally intended. Her forehead rested to his as she pulled away slightly, meeting his gaze with a smile.

[The Exodus]

Tristan Vidal

Solange felt so good in Tristan’s arms, that he didn’t care that she was probably getting soaked, just touching him. She was warm and soft and safe. Tristan could hear the smile in her voice, but not see it in the dark of the apartment.

“I am...thanks to you," Solange said softly. "My hero."

Before Tristan could don a Superman voice and tease her, Solange kissed him. Her soft lips pressed firmly to his. To anyone else, a slightly lingering kiss between a young couple was the norm. But lately, it simply hadn’t been “the norm” for Tristan and Solange. They’d been so busy that the kisses they shared were more often than not quick, stolen things. There was a weird sort of furtiveness about kisses they’d shared all this week; like they didn’t want the interns to catch them in the privacy of Tristan’s office or even on lunch breaks. It was stupid and silly. But this kiss wasn’t. It was slow and savory. It sent Tristan’s heart-rate into second-gear.

When they broke apart, Solange pressed her forehead against Tristan’s. The candles across the room burned on the countertop, adding just enough glow for Tristan to see Solange’s smile. Maybe the evening wasn’t a wash, after all. He grinned back at Solange, before kissing her again, with a shade more intensity than before.

[blueeyeddevil]

Solange de Grace

As she kissed Tristan, Solange couldn't help but think that she would be okay if they didn't go out tonight after all. This right here was wonderful. Kissing Tristan; spending time with just the two of them. all week, it seemed like anywhere they turned, one of the interns was around as well. And while the three of them had been helpful in many respects, them always being around didn't give her and Tristan much time for a kiss or a lunch out. After this week they deserved to have some time together.

His rain soaked clothes seeped into her own, the cold of it making her shiver a little. Still a smile spread over her lips as she met his gaze with a tender expression. It only grew when he smiled back at her. A moment later his lips were back on hers, a little more forceful than the first time, making her catch her breath slightly before responding.

Tristan smelled clean and crisp like the rain, which didn't surprise her but it made her sigh happily into the kiss. Her fingers caressed the back of his neck before letting them slide forward to cup his face and bring him even closer, kissing him eagerly. This was certainly better than anything that had been planning before.

[The Exodus]

Tristan Vidal

Tristan could feel Solange sigh against his mouth. Gently, he brushed her lower lip with his tongue. Under the mint of her toothpaste was the ever-present comforting sweetness Tristan associated with Solange’s morning coffee. Her fingers sent little shockwaves up and down Tristan’s neck as their tips dragged against his skin. They slid to his jaw, which only made his neck even more goose-bumpy. Her palms were soft against Tristan’s freshly-shaved cheek. Warmth radiated from them. Tristan’s own hands raked through Solange’s hair. It was soft and Tristan couldn’t help but tangle his fingers in it.

The kiss grew so intense that Tristan involuntarily took a step. He collided with something both firm and soft; the couch. He pulled out of the kiss breathlessly and set Solange gently on the edge of the couch. It was L-shaped and allowed for Tristan to reposition himself, kneeling in front of Solange – which was more comfortable that standing and made her a little taller than him, instead of the other way around. In the light, it would have been a fascinating view. But in the dark, Tristan could only imagine. He took Solange’s hands into his and pressed fevered kisses to them, catching his breath enough to lean forward and meet her lips again. The new positioning forced him to arch up -- instead of the other way around, instead of the usual way things were -- and the change of pace made this kiss dizzying, different.