poly_chromatic | ( 01 ) ( video / action. )

[ when the video clicks on, it shows a teenager — not uncommon in and of itself — looking distinctly bemused, not wet and somewhat out of sorts. what can be seen of his surroundings show him to be near the fountain, like most new arrivals, although he doesn't look especially surprised. when he speaks, his tone is primarily level, whilst his accent belies his british origins — southern english, with a noticeable undercurrent of welsh. ]

The last time I was here, I was greeted by a multitude of redheads and a blonde. I also, as it happens, momentarily believed myself to be Alice, although rather than having taken a tumble down a rabbit hole, I found myself the victim of a short drop into water. This time, I find myself in possession of all of my faculties and wholly dry. Alas, there appears to be no redheads in my immediate vicinity — recognisable ones, that is — or the solitary blonde bearing a cup of delightful coffee with an awful name. [ a beat. ] If it helps, I could go for a short paddle in the fountain and recreate my arrival from before; the sympathy and pity were quite welcome.

[ there's another pause, albeit a longer one, and the humour briefly fades from his expression and is replaced by a rather marked lack of surety. ] Tessa—. [ nope, nevermind. refuge in the familiar; awkward conversations can come later. ]

I wonder, will I have to spend my first night under a bush again?

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[With all the departures she's had to grapple with lately, a return is something of a surprise (and certainly not an unpleasant one). Ginny smirks at the camera.]

No sympathy or pity from this redhead, I'm afraid. But I'll give you a welcome back.

And if I didn't want welcoming in the strictest of senses?

[She raises an eyebrow at him then shifts into something far drier and curling.]

Then get out, Herondale, I preferred your portrait over your cheek.

[ a pause, and a slight — somewhat bitter — laugh. ]

I dare say that rings true for most people. Fortunately — or unfortunately — I'm not used to doing as I'm told.

[And then something in her expression softens, because a part of her is actually glad to see a familiar face. Even one as snarky as him.]

You wouldn't be the same bloke I remember if you did, I think.

[ a hum at that. ]

I don't suppose I would be, no.

How are you, then?

[ he's got half a dozen answers for that question: the truth and all variations of, and lies. he's aware, too, that there's no need to lie, but that doesn't change the fact that it's tempting, as far as things go. ]

As well as can be expected given the circumstances. [ lip quirk. ] How are you?

The same, funnily enough.

[Comings and goings are hard, the latter more so than the former. She's better than she was in the past few weeks, but still.]

Still here and all. Haven't left, actually. I've got to admit, I'm a little jealous of you.