Aida (Ah-Ee-da) was born in Ethiopia on the 1st of October 1989.
At age five, she was taken in by Sir Reginald Hargreeves and became number eight; living with, training with, and growing with The Umbrella Academy for 12 years.
Her body automatical...
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Boots wiping on the red carpet, Aida turned to the living room. Sitting there, almost like a statue, was Grace. A woman Aida hadn't seen since the night she moved out, or ran away rather.
They left on good terms. Or as good terms as could be expected given the circumstances. Aida still remembers her 17 year old self opening the door to leave without saying a word to anyone; but getting stopped momentarily by a simple look from the woman who now sat motionless across from her.
Staring down at Grace, an expression which could be mistaken as contempt took over Aida's face. Grace seemed completely unresponsive to any outward influences but before Aida could address this, her attention was drawn elsewhere to a different person and an answer to an unasked question.
"She's just tired."
Aida glanced over to her leather clad friend sitting across the room fiddling with a knife. She was somehow already aware of his presence, just hesitant to address it.
"Speaking of tired," Diego spoke in poorly attempted nonchalance, "you look awful."
With a light exhale through her nose in acknowledgement of the jab, she tore her mildly amused eyes away from the man and to the wall on her right.
"That's just rude. Haven't seen or heard from me in forever and the first thing you do is call me ugly."
Aida moved to the opposite side of the room and blasely fiddled with some objects she'd never been allowed to even touch before.
"Not ugly, tired. And whose fault is it that I haven't seen you in forever, Eddy?"
He says this first part with a grim smirk, but the latter is spoken bitterly, with one raised eyebrow and a pointed stare at the recipient of his accusatory question.
Aida stopped and looked at him properly once again.
"I did leave a note," She states, matter-of-factly and forces a little smirk to the side of her face, in an attempt to avoid an actually personal conversation with him.
Diego lets out a scoff and looks away from her. Both amused and annoyed, but unsure how to express this the way he wants to.
He stares at the floor.
"Your 'notes' were always crap."
They then commence a desperate staring match for a few more seconds. Aida breaks eye contact first to look at her hands, as if in the the time she spent looking at him, her fingers could have dropped off and she had to check just in case.
"Is anyone else here yet?"
Diego pulls himself away from other thoughts and nods slowly as he responds,
"Yeah," he clears his throat, "I think Allison, Luther, and Klaus are here... Don't think anyone expected to see you."
Once again his bitterness is evident in what otherwise would've been a harmless sentence.
