Logs:Keep Us Safe
Keep Us Safe | |
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Dramatis Personae | |
In Absentia
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2020-11-24 "I thought we was on the same page, about the mind control." (X-Kids X-Cursion, Day 3: right after breakfast) |
Location
<ME> Across the Rift - Occupied Riverfront Cabin, Somewhere in Maine | |
This vacation rental was not meant for winter occupancy, nor was it meant for seventeen wayward children. It certainly was not designed for seventeen dimensionally stranded mutant children with no winter clothes and no patience for each other. From the living area, the noise of squabbling teenagers and washing plates indicates that breakfast is just about over. In one of the bedrooms, Naomi is taking some time to make the bed (a glorious king, made less glorious by the number of people who had attempted to sleep in it) as well as fold away the makeshift cots of pillows and blankets scattered on the floor. She isn’t exactly avoiding everyone, per se, but… she’s avoiding everyone. A glass of water rests atop the dresser - she smooths down the bed runner before taking a sip, looking at herself in the mirror above it. Rearranges the shirt she's been wearing since Sunday night. Twists her black snake bangle on her left wrist. Pinches at one of the hard black scales near her hairline and gives it an experimental tug. The scale doesn’t move. Lael had hardly left his sister's side since their narrow escape from the Sentinels yesterday, if often tense and quiet, but he's been scarce since breakfast today--ostensibly helping with cleanup. He returns to her now. "Hey, there." His voice is quiet and measured, but his hair gives him away, twisting into agitated knots on his head. "I think we really gotta talk. You know, 'bout yesterday." She can see Lael’s reflection in the mirror above the dresser, the pattern of knots and twists squirming in his hair familiar. Naomi tenses, hand dropping from her scales, but she doesn’t turn around. “You pissed.” It’s not hard to pick up on the feelings underneath that - lots of anger, mostly directed at the world around them but more than enough turned inward, twisting into both guilt and rationalization of yesterday morning’s events. “Ionno there’s much to talk ‘bout.” Lael's more-or-less placid expression lapses into dismay. "Yeah, I'm pissed. But that ain't..." He runs a hand through his locs--or tries to, his hair twisting so badly they just latch onto his fingers such that he has to awkwardly disentangle them. "That ain't the point, really. I wasn't gonna leave it at 'you got to listen to me'. It was only that we didn't have time. Then immediately after that that you gone an'..." He trails off, pacing now. "It's jus', I thought we was on the same page, about the mind control." “We was. I ain’t touched it once since last talking-to.” <<Well. Spence don’t count. Didn’t work plus he knew bout it.>> Naomi takes a small sip of water, spins around to actually look at Lael and not his reflection. The memory of the last talking-to surfaces easily - <<if you gotta use it>><<defend yourself>> looping in Lael’s voice. Small, sullen - “Was tryna keep all y’all safe. K.C. said hush, nobody was hushin’.” Hangs her head. “I know I done screwed up.” <<And now everyone hates me. >> The mental addition about Spence seems to throw Lael off briefly. His brows furrow quizzically, though he ultimately do not ask for elaboration. "Thank God for small favors, cuz otherwise you'd be on even thinner ice with everyone." Even so, he does not sound mollified. "It'd've been bad enough if you just made everyone hush up," his voice is rising, "but you done sent us all right out into an ambush." He's all but shouting now, struggling to control his volume. "Folks coulda died!" “Jus’ yell already.” Naomi is already flinching at Lael’s raised voice, shoulders pulling in tighter in a familiar motion. The last comment, though, unlocks something. “You think ionno that?” Her head snaps up, eyes flickering emerald for a moment before settling. “You can hear me in there, I know you know I’m sorry! I was jus’ tryna help!” Her breathing is speeding up, her own voice rising to meet Lael’s, her eyes wet and swimming. She blinks, rubs her eyes against the sleeve of her hoodie. “So what you gonna do now, muzzle me?” Her fingers curl around the wood of the dresser, pressing hard against the wood grain. “Or- ionno. Leave me behind.” <<Again.>> Lael's jaw tightens. He does not yell. He does back up a step when Naomi's eyes turn green, his own eyes wide, his hair twisting into knots. "I know you's sorry," his voice comes out level again, his expression evening. To Naomi's eye, with the familiarity of lifelong acquaintance, the emotion he's burying under this calm is fear, not anger. "But I don't need you to be sorry, I need you to stop haring off an recognize how serious your power is. If I thought muzzling you would do that, so help me God I'd do it." He starts to take another step back, but conquers the urge, breathing out slowly. He hasn't blinked for the space of several breaths. "I ain't gonna leave you behind. I know it don't make up for before, but I swear it. Never again." <<why ain’t he yelling he should be yelling/thank God he ain’t yelling>> Naomi’s eyes scan over her brother eyes, shoulders, back to the telltale writhing locs. Her eyes go wide when she realizes. <<he scared - that ain’t fair that’s not FAIR - why he scared I weren’t ever scared o’ him>> Naomi’s grip slips, her elbow banging against the top of the dresser. She winces, turns back to face the dresser. She stares at the surface for a moment, then swings her hand out wildly, knocking her cup of water to the ground. It cracks down the side, but doesn’t shatter. “Shit.” Looks back up at Lael, <<that’s how our folks looked at him that’s how they look at me I hate it I hate this I hate this>> takes a deep shuddering breath. “I’ll- I’ll keep my mouth shut. I don’t want -“ <<this power i dont want>> “-get anyone hurt.” Sucks in a deep breath. <<God but what if you do what if he leaves me again what if what if->> Lael lurches forward when Naomi slips, but stops when she doesn't actually fall. Something in his posture still makes him look on the verge of fleeing. "I shoulda been firmer with you to begin with," he says, the quiet in his voice sounding a little less forced now. "But Lord, Naomi, I was scared of you. Am scared of you. Other folks are too, and right now we need to trust each other to survive." His hands lift to his temples, rubbing slowly. "It ain't about your power, it's about self-control, an' respectin' free will. But if you don't got those things down solid yet--can you at least decide to talk to other folks before you go usin' it? Can you promise me that?" He rarely uses his telepathy to project thoughts, but he does so now to distantly surreal effect, his message less like words in her mind and more like a concept spontaneously recalled in its whole without the messy intermediary of verbal langauge, << I will not leave you behind. >> <<scared of you scared of me scared I’m scared>>. Contrasting images of her classmates flash across her thoughts at the mention of ‘other folks’: Nanami, cooing at a teddy bear keychain and then Nanami, blowing up a Sentinel. Marcus, fingers meeting hers in a popcorn bowl and then Marcus, sitting everyone down and taking the lead. <<folks coulda died - aint got self-control gon get ‘em killed>> Now she does sink to the floor, tears flowing despite herself (<<why am I crying shouldn’t be crying stop crying>>) though she gamely wipes away as many as she can with her sleeve, turning her face so Lael can’t see her cry so easily. “I can do that.” <<can i?>> The projection shoves the fear out of her mind a moment, the message wrapping itself after her thoughts, coiling tight into an emotional truth. Naomi’s mind leans into it, and out loud she breathes a small, relieved sigh. Lael lets out a very controlled sigh. "Folks is more 'fraid of some kinds of powers than others but in the end like I said--it ain't all about the power itself. It's how you use it, who you use it on." But when Naomi slides down to the floor he goes to her, pulling her into his arms and tucking her head against his chest. "I'll protect you," he says firmly, as if trying to convince himself, "I know you ain't a little kid no more but I'm still your big brother." In this, at least, he seems to have stumbled onto something he feels confident on. "You can do it--you can let me take care'a you, like I ought." Naomi melts into Lael’s embrace, sniffling <<embarassing>> as the sudden flood of tears runs its course. Slowly, as her breathing returns to normal, so does the chaotic swirl of her thoughts, coalescing around new goals - to not let Lael down again, to not put her friends in danger again. “Ion need protecting,” Naomi mumbles, face fully buried against Lael’s coat. “You need t’ protect everyone else from me.” Lael rests his cheek on Naomi's head, his hair reaching and grasping at hers in a way that would probably be deeply disquieting if not viscerally disgusting to anyone who wasn't so used to it. "It ain't always so simple. We can all put each other in a lotta danger right now, but..." He draws a deep breath, squeezing his little sister tighter. "How 'bout we all protect each other?" The feeling of Lael’s hair entwining itself with hers is incredibly comforting to Naomi. Her arms slide up and around Lael, fingers digging into the fabric on his back as she pulls herself closer to him. “Okay,” she manages, voice muffled by the layers of cloth between them, her mind finally approaching some kind of clearness. “I can - we can - keep each other safe.” |