Logs:Borrowed Gifts

Borrowed Gifts
Dramatis Personae Joshua, Spencer	2023-07-31 "So like, your power is my power?"
Location <GA> Holland Farm - Hiawassee
One of many such family farms -- though fewer all the time -- in this little Appalachian town, the Hollands' 160-some rolling acres are divided about evenly between peach orchards and yearly rotations of crops. A burbling creek winds along one edge of the property, which extends up past the arable portions into steep, wooded mountainside. There are several acres of vegetable gardens nearest to the farmhouse, producing enough food to feed the family and often with excess to sell locally. The barn and pasture adjoining this are likewise mainly for the family's own use, with just a couple of dairy cows, a pair of horses, and plenty of chickens. The farmhouse itself is a big rambling white affair with a generous wraparound porch, full of rustic charm even in its no-nonsense practicality. The furniture is sturdy and plain and well-cared for, the walls adorned with handmade crafts, children's artwork, and some of Jackson Holland's more whimsical original paintings. The kitchen is vast and airy and superbly organized, always redolent of rich home cooking and of the herbs hanging in bundles to dry. Even up here in the mountains, summer is summer. The sun shines bright and sharp today, but though the heat has an edge it isn't heavy here, not suffocating the way it might be in the low country or in New York. It conjures no thunderstorms -- at least not today -- though the clouds have puffed up as the afternoon wears on, all picturesque bluster. Elsewhere on the farm, work goes on beneath the fierce summer sun, but at the moment Spencer is just sitting on the steps of the porch on the side that faces the orchard, leaning back against the solid heap of dog behind him, and staring up at the clouds. He's wearing a heather gray t-shirt and faded cut-off jeans, neither of which look like his but currently fit him better than most of his wardrobe, and a yellow kippah with a smiling cartoon sun on it. His hands fidget ceaselessly with a lump of brightly-colored magnetic balls, molding and re-molding them into newer and messier shapes. When did Joshua get here? Who knows, but he's strolling out of the farmhouse right now, hands in the pockets of his jeans and a black tee shirt with the antifascist logo in a circle that reads NO PASARAN beneath, red and black kippah on his head. He sets himself down on the steps beside Spencer, reaching one hand back idly to pat at Skittles's fluffy side. When he pulls his hand forward again he's got a plate -- a chickpea salad sandwich, neatly cut into halves. He's taking one half for himself, offering the other to Spencer. Spence glances back at the sound of footsteps. Something in the set of his shoulders starts to -- maybe not tense, but ready himself for something before relaxing back away. Maybe his greeting was going to be more than a quick, jerky nod, but he has not managed to get that far before getting distracted by Surprise Snack, which he accepts without question. "Thanks. You know, I've tried to do that so many times." "Mmm," is all Joshua says to this, at first. He's plucking two lemonades from Nowhere after Spence starts eating, setting both down on the step between them. He takes a large bite of the sandwich and washes it down with the lemonade. "S'real useful. Takes practice." Spence attacks his sandwich ravenously, as if he hasn't been steadily fussed after by his (very southern) grandmother since he arrived and has surely not had any opportunity to go hungry even if he wanted to. He stops for breath and for a gulp of lemonade. Raises eyebrows high. "I don't think practicing is gonna to cut it. Mine doesn't work all...backwards like that." "Mmm," says Joshua again. He leans back, too, elbow propped on the step behind and his shoulder resting against Skittles's haunch. "Not yet. It will." When he reaches back into the air -- in front of him, this time, he comes back with a robot -- very familiar even if it's been quite a long number of years since Spencer has seen it, a large metal spider with one green and one red eye, that he sets down on the step below the food. Though Spence is busy polishing off his sandwich, an extremely exaggerated scrunch of one eye expresses his skepticism loud enough until he can speak again. "How do you know? We don't even have the same --" He breaks off in fascination when Joshua repeats his trick in plain sight, absent even nominal sleight-of-hand, but when the robot appears his eyes go wide-wide. "Jerusalem?!" He practically topples over, either from pure shock or from the rigorous if brief flapping of his hands. "Where'd you find him? How'd you find him?" Joshua takes his next few bites slower, finishing the half-sandwich and licking his fingertips clean. He picks up his lemonade, resting the glass on his knee. "Wandered your dimension. For --" His mouth twists to one side. "... a while." Spence transfers his staring from the robot to Joshua. "My what?" is presumably rhetorical, as he almost immediately follows it up with, "I have a dimension? How does that -- oh no..." He presses the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. "Like that shi -- merc -- there was a --" His words dissolve into a long, unsteady "nnnnnnn" sound, but he retrieves himself fairly quickly. Then blanches. "Did I accidentally chuck you in there at some point freaking out oh no." "Accidentally chucked myself in there," Joshua answers with a wry twitch of his mouth. "Still trying to figure out all the specifics of how it works. Got a pretty decent mental map, by now. Figured it was about time you start helping me update it." Gulping down the rest of his lemonade, Spence scoots down on the steps to examine his long-lost robot. "Buddy, you're overdue for so many upgrades." When he looks back up at Joshua his eyes are still wide, but there's something like excitement in them now and not just surprise. "Oh man, I am so down. I thought mastered my power, but I'm still a Padawan after all." There's no trace of disappointment in this at all. If anything he sounds relieved. Then, all of a sudden, he's blinking hard and plopping himself back beside Joshua. "I missed you. That's not -- I don't mean like -- it's not like you could have --" He stares hard at the orchard curving away over the hills. "I mean before Lassiter." "Don't know if anyone every really masters their powers. Probably some real short-sighted people think they have and miss out on still learning." Joshua is sipping, slow, at his lemonade. His head rolls back against Skittles's back, expression easing -- not quite into a smile, but less dour -- at the slow thump of tail that follows. "I'll teach you. Payback," now he does have a smile, small, "for you letting me bite your style all these years." The smile fades at the mention of Lassiter. His eyes close, his fingers tighter around the glass. "I'm sorry," he says, low. "If I'd known..." This just trails off. He swallows, and doesn't finish. Spence does the eye-scrunch again. "Yeah right, I've always been copying you. And you've always been saving my as...butt." His eyes flick toward the back door, reflexively guilty despite catching himself and despite not being caught by Sarabeth Holland instead. "For like ten years you just dropped everything whenever I got too scared or excited or just distracted and -- you never had to do that. I know you would have helped if you could, but I don't want you to have to like. Be on call forever. By yourself. That's why I've been trying..." He half-turns and presses his cheek into Skittles's floof, facing Joshua but kind of looking past him. "This is messed up, but I when I realized you weren't on the raid, I was afraid something bad had happened to you." "Don't," Joshua says, with an unusual vehemence, sharply cutting off that I've been trying even before Spencer trails off on his own. "This gift is yours. Don't you fucking dare --" He's opened his eyes again, staring up at the porch overhang, his teeth clenched hard. "You're not a goddamn taxi. Save yourself some joy." His eyes are very fixed, fingers clenching and easing against the cold glass. Spence flinches -- hard enough that, probably not so very long ago, he would have just blinked away, if only briefly. But now he just flinches, brows furrowing with hurt and confusion. "I don't..." This, too, trails off, his eyes tracking to Joshua's hand where it grips the glass. "I'm sorry," he says, hesitant. Then, "It's your gift, too." "I'm sorry," Joshua replies, softer and rougher, and then goes quiet. He pushes himself upright abruptly, eyes dropping down to the spider robot on the stairs. Eventually he manages to continue, with a shrug of one shoulder and a slip back into his usual casual-gruff: "Nah. Never has been." He slumps slow and heavy, a little further down on his elbow, and turns up one hand -- in his palm, now, there's a soft glow that then changes itself into a tiny replica of Jerusalem, before the illusion-spider crawls silently and weightlessly off Joshua's hand, down onto the steps and over up Spence's arm. "Kinda just an interloper." The furrow in Spencer's brow lingers, worried. His jaw works and he buries his face a little further into the uncomplaining, ancient dog. Slowly uncurls himself to watch Joshua's demonstration, eyes starting to go wide again. And wider, following the illusory copy of the spider bot. "Whaaaat...?!" He pokes tentatively at it. "Holy crap!" He doesn't stop himself flapping this time. "Oh wow, oh man that is so cool! Wait --" He tears his gaze from the illusion and looks back up at Joshua. "Wait wait wait wait wai --" Stops. Takes a deep breath. "So like, your power is my power?" Then he adds, not quite dismissively but certainly like he doesn't really think it needed clarifying, "The teleporting one." "Always has been." The spider dissolves at Spencer's touch. Joshua drains his lemonade, and sets the glass back down. When he leans forward it's to mirror Spence's poke -- at the actual Jerusalem, this time; the robot vanishes at the touch. Joshua rolls his shoulders, stretching slowly, before glancing to Spence. "-- want to go see where he went?"