ArchivedLogs:Cream of Onion Soup

Cream of Onion Soup
Dramatis Personae Heather, Paige	2017-11-06 "Like I'm a freak out here, I get it, but why do I have to be a freak in my /mind/ too?"
Location <NYC> {Teamhaus} - Harbor Commons - Lower East Side
The right side opens up to a modern kitchen with cherry wood cabinets and steel countertops forming a corner against the close and right walls. This cooking area is fitted with modern appliances, among them being an over-the-counter microwave, a dishwasher, an electric stove, a refrigerator, and an oven. Opposite the kitchen is the dining room, accessed by a pair of narrow French doors. Walls of frosted glass panes, framed by stained wood and a diagonal slat slanting downwards towards the doors, separate the area from the rest of the unit. Long, vertical wooden boards stained dark comprise the rest of the walls in the unit. A small hallways leads from the entrance towards the back with a closet on the left and a bathroom on the right. Although the rest of the unit has beautiful hardwood flooring, the bathroom floor is tiled. It has the usual porcelain fixtures - a sink, a bathtub, a toilet - but also contains a separate shower stall made of steel and glass. On the left of the hallway is a closet containing a decent amount of storage space along with a washing machine and dryer. The hallway ends as it began, opening up into the same layout as the entrance, though flipped. To the right is the bedroom, concealed by the same frosted glass walls as the dining room with a single door of the same fashion as the walls. The left side holds a living room. Curtained windows along the back wall allow light to stream into the area. It's early in the evening despite the brightly illuminated darkness outside, courtesy of Daylight Savings. Paige has recently arrived home from her shift at the thrift shop, still wearing a dark pair of dress pants and long-sleeved black blouse with a badge clipped to it, declaring to all the world her name. The horned mutant is currently in the kitchen of Teamhaus, depositing items gently into the trash bin. Most of them appear to have bite marks on them or show some sign of gnawing. Heather is a non-observer of daylight savings in her daily schedule, meaning her naptimes are the same times of day as ever, so it might be a bit unexpected that she is waking up from such a nap at this time in the evening. She emerges from the shared bedroom with her laptop under her arm and wearing a onesie with multi-colored dog bones on it. She puts her laptop down on the table and then zips up to Paige and asks, through her recording device, "Are you doing something I can help with?" Ears twitching, Paige does not hear Heather's approach drowned out as it is by the rustling of the garbage. Thus, the furred young woman gives a start as her roommate appears at an unsual time. "What!? No! I mean, no! I'm good! Good. You know? I'm /fine/." Upon closer examination, it would appear that Paige is emptying items from a lidded carboard box, which she closes with a forced smile on her face. Unfortunately for her attempt at subtly, a number of objects spill out from the box as she adjusts her grip on it. Among them are included a plastic coathanger, a spiral notebook (most of the pages have been torn out and the thing looks a bit warped), a few pencils, a pair of spoons, and even a bar of soap. The goat mutant's ears press down as she emits, "Fuck," and hurries to gather the fallen things. "Okay. You are good. I am glad you are doing good," says Heather after renewing her recording. She stands still when a few of the objects tumble out, though she asks with a bit of curiosity carrying through even her recorded voice, "Why are those garbage? Did the soap go bad? I heard that can happen. But the rest is non-perishable. I am confident that spoons do not rot." Paige's ears flick up as she flushes at Heather's questions. She's squatting on the floor now and she pauses putting the things back into the box. "No, I --" Ears wilting and pushing back down, the young woman works her jaw. "I ... " With her fingernails, she anxiously picks at the skin on her hands. "I am not good. Not doing good. Not good at all. You know how I was supposed to have that job interview and they cancled on me? Well, that just -- just made it worse, okay?" Her eyes are affixed on the objects on the floor. "I have a problem. I -- the stuff we talked about a few months ago -- it's still -- I can't -- " Eventually she gives up speaking and just settles for silence. Heather drops down to sit on the floor, leaning against the cupboard quietly for a moment. "Okay. I apologize that I did not notice you were not doing good. I know I am not good at that. But I am here for you." She picks up the spoon, twirling it around between her fingers. "It was disappointing to hear your interview was cancelled. I know that you were excited by the prospect." Her eyes turn towards Paige and, despite how twitchy they are, largely remain fixed on her. She points to the spoon and hits a button to continue 'speaking'. "The chewing. I am fine with bite marks. It makes no difference to me. But it seems you are distressed. Is there anything you want me to do? I want to help." "No, don't ... don't apologize. Please. You are ... you are fine." The goat girl pries her gaze away from the twirling spoon and stares upwards, swallowing. "Yeah, well, what should I have expected? A company that hires mutants because of their 'talents'?" This comes complete with air-quotes from Paige. "As if I have any talents," she disparages herself with a sad laugh. "You know I've been like this a year? And it's still not -- it's still not /right/. This isn't what I am meant to be. I'm not supposed to look like /this/." She gestures with a hand to indicate her body, particularly her horned head. "I have /fur/. I have /horns/. I have fucking /hooves/, for Christ's sake. I'm not /supposed/ to -- not supposed to --" Inhaling sharply and squeezing her eyes, it may become clear that Paige is trying to hold back tears. "And the one thing -- the /one/ thing -- only one thing -- just one, you know? Just one. Just my mind. Why can't I have it? Why does it have to change, too? I feel like I'm losing myself every fucking day and I can't ... I just can't ..." It's a minute and there's a sniffle, but the tears have not yet managed to break through. "I am /very/ distressed. Thank you for ... everything. Thank you for wanting to help. I can't stop myself. I've been trying. I know it doesn't look like I've been trying, but I have. I wish -- wish there was a solution, but I don't know how you could help." Heather stays fairly still while Paige speaks, though there is a little bit of fidgeting that she can't help but to do. "I believe you. I believe that you have been trying to stop yourself. And that you cannot. It does not have to look like it because I trust you." She pauses her recording a moment, looking down at it for a second while turning it over with a focused look on her face. "It can be distressing. To feel like you are losing control of your mind. And to do things that you know are not healthy. Or productive. I know that I do not have the power to offer a solution for this particular problem. But I can offer you a friend." "I know you're my friend." Paige's lip curl in a sad smile as she now looks at the floor, using her hands to gently move the fallen objects about. "Thank you." Still, however, the young woman's face is red beneath her fur. "Thank you for being my friend." She draws a deep breath in before letting it out. "I don't just /feel/ that I'm losing control though," the horned girl states as she lets herself fall onto her butt, spreading her legs out in front of her. "I /am/ losing control. I just want to ... /taste/ things. But it's not that I just /want/, it's that I /do/. And sometimes I do it without realizing it at all. Like who even puts soap in their mouth? I was ... taking a shower and, next thing you know ..." An open hand gestures towards the bar of soap still on the floor. The goat mutant sighs before bowing her head. "Thank you for believing me, too. Thank you. That's such a relief, you know? Knowing that it's not ... it's not just /you/. Not just /you/ thinking you're crazy." "I did not mean to minimize it. That you are losing control," plays Heather, and she picks up the bar of soap. "It seems regrettable that you bit this soap. Isn't it a punishment to taste soap? Seems cruel. You do not deserve the taste of soap." She shakes her head quickly and shifts into a cross-legged position. "I am not meaning to suggest that I think of you as a freak. That has some negative connotations that I want you to know I do not apply to you. Whatever a freak is without negative and judgmental connotations." Paige looks at Heather when the recording starts, but her eyes are invariably drawn to the device. She does, however, make an effort to return her gaze to her housemate before her voice ends. "That's just basically saying I'm different," she deciphers after a moment. "And I don't even know how it happened. Th-the soap, I mean. I wasn't paying much attention, the shower felt really good, you know? If I had it my way, I wouldn't have put it in my mouth either, alright? I wasn't trying to punish myself.” "I want to have control. Over myself, you know?" The young woman brings her knees to her chest and wraps her arms around them. "Just a little bit of control. A little bit more. I'm not -- not asking for things to be the way they used to be ... I just want ... I really don't want to have to rely on telepaths, alright? Like I'm a freak out here, I get it, but why do I have to be a freak in my /mind/ too?" Silence hangs in the air for a few moments before she adds, "I've changed so much since I left school and not all of it has been intentional. I just don't want to lose myself." Sorrowful, frightful eyes flash to her roommate to watch the frenetic mutant’s face. "If I lose myself ... would you -- I mean ... what -- what do I do? Like how do -- /would/ -- we even handle that?" "I am not saying that you were trying to punish yourself. Just that your brain was punishing you," plays Heather, gesturing to her own forehead. "Sometimes brains are not cooperative or kind." She falls quiet again and listens to Paige further. "I cannot pretend to know what we would do to handle that. But we would handle it. Even if it is scary. You are not going to be alone. I will not allow it." Resting her chin on her knees, Paige clenches and releases her hands a number of times as her downwards-angled ears twitch. "Thanks. That -- that really means a lot to me. That I'm not going to be alone? I mean, apologies, I sound ... ugh. Thanks. Thank you. You've always done so much for me. Thank you." Heather nods a couple of times quickly and she gets back up onto her feet and she leans on the counter. "We do a lot for each other. It is mutual doing. But what is important is that we do not have to be alone. Okay?" She pauses a moment and says, “I would give you a hug, but it would not be pleasant for either one of us. So we should establish a codeword for when I would give you a hug.” The goat mutant's ears flick briefly up as she turns her head to watch Heather stand. Nodding at her roommate's words, Paige falls silent for a few moments. "Family?" she hesitantly poses, apparently as a solution. "Like for the hug 'codeword'. Family." Another short-lived pause. "We are family." "Family? Okay. I was going to suggest 'Cream of Onion Soup'," plays Heather before she nods. "Family works."