ArchivedLogs:We Are Not Question Marks

We Are Not Question Marks
Dramatis Personae Heather and Paige	2017-01-18 "There will be better people to do that. People who won't cry about the idea of it."
Location <NYC> BoM Safehouse - Lower East Side
Tucked away off a little-used side street in the Lower East Side, sandwiched between a youth drop-in center and a taqueria, this narrow three-story townhouse has very little to catch the eye. Boarded-up windows, a door peeling its paint, shabby grubby brickface; from the outside it does not look like much. Inside someone has gone to great lengths to renovate the building into something more habitable. It isn't glamorous but it is comfortable, old furniture dragged in, the place generally swept clean. The first floor holds a large living room, a smaller dining room, a spacious kitchen, a half-bathroom. There are three bedrooms and a full bathroom on the second floor; the attic is just a large empty space crammed full of boxes with a window out to the large flat roof. The basement, much like the attic, consists of a lot of empty space. A bare concrete floor, no windows, occasional poles running up to the ceiling. A tiny half-bathroom down here, too. Not a whole lot else. It's a little past ten in the morning as Paige sits on the steps to the shelter on the Lower East Side. Her posture is hunched, arms wrapped around her chest, hands stretching the sleeves of her black caridgan a bit so they cover her fingers. Beneath she wears a black long-sleeve shirt along with a pair of jeans. It hasn't been that long since she'd texted Heather and it's still early in the day, but the girl seems rather worn out and drained of energy. Heather doesn't appear much more than half an hour later, on foot. Unfortunately for Paige's boots, Heather travelling on foot has given them a fair bit of trouble and they are looking rather worn since they were given to the girl. Heather's goggles are down and today, she seems to be dressed in orange and purple thrift clothing with a solid neon green scarf, terribly bright, terribly clashing. On her tape recorder she plays, "Were you kept waiting very long?" She checks her wrist, where she wears her two watches. The goat girl's ears twitch as she catches a colorful blur of movement out of the corner of her eye. Despite Heather's sudden arrival, Paige regards her with a tired expression and an involuntary smile. "Not very," she responds, straightening her posture and leaning back to stretch out. "Or maybe. I kind of lost track of time." There a pause as she cracks her back. "I have some news. Mai is in jail. She was arrested for murder. I am out of a place, so I am staying here." The blonde girl watches the other mutant with a curious gaze, studying her face as she reacts. Heather's eyebrows raise slightly for a moment and she follows Paige's gestures before playing back the audio to herself. The girl scratches her head and she plays, "Condolences. Mai should not have done a murder. Crimes get people put in jail." She glances up towards the place and then says, "How do you feel about this place? We can do better. But if you have no place to stay now it moves our timeline. Without Mai I will only be able to afford a one bedroom. Three in a one bedroom?" She looks thoughtful. "Condolences. Yeah," Paige replies, averting her eyes when Heather mentions crime. "But, yes, she should -not- have done a murder. That is for certain." She bites at the inside of her cheek before continuing, a tinge of expaserated amusement in her voice. "Heather, I don't think there -are- going to be any bedrooms, alright? That plan is shot. Mai's in jail and I've lost track of Fiona. This place is a shelter. It gives me what I need." She turns her head to face the other girl again, eyes narrowing as she again watches her face. "But what if I told you I could get more than I need? What if I told you I had a way to solve all of my friends' problems? I could get Mai a lawyer, I could get Fiona a place to stay. I could get -you- food and my friend Marinov? I could get them a whole helping of mutant support and interest in their arts show." "No bedrooms?" repeats Heather, furrowing her eyebrows, "Nobody makes apartments like that. What would that even look like?" She shakes her head and says, "If you told me about all of that, then I would ask you how you are getting all of that. I would ask you if you are thinking of doing crimes. Because that's the sort of talk that people talk before doing crimes." Paige looks away again and then reaches a hand up to scratch at the side of her scalp, obscuring Heather's view of the blonde mutant's reddening face somewhat. Her ears have wilted and her voice is ridden with anxiety. "Yeah, well, what if I told you I wouldn't be committing any crimes? But that I could make a difference in people's lives. Like a big difference, you know? I mean, yeah, it would come at a price, but I mean what if I could?" Fortunately, Heather is not great at determining the levels of anxiety in a person's voice. "It comes at a price. What kind of price? Is it a price that you can afford?" She shakes her head quickly and says, "I do not like to make deals without knowing the costs. There was an ad to pick up a guitar for free. I went to pick up the guitar for free. Then he tried to charge me money. I wouldn't have gone if I knew the cost!" There's a glimmer of a smile that plays over Paige's face at Heather's short tale. "It's not a guitar," she remarks with a small spark of amusement that is quickly washed away. "It's not money or anything like that. It's not a physical price, you know?" She turns back her head back to face Heather, hand pushing an errant strand of hair out of her face. "It's not...It's one that--" Her hands drop into her lap, one clasping the other, and she glances down at them before eying the other mutant again. "It's one that would--that could hurt, you know? But it's one I think I could afford if it means I could help my friends." "It could hurt?" plays Heather on the recorder. She shakes her head quickly, "What's the cost then? If it's something you can't tell me then I think it is too steep. If you sold a kidney for my benefit I would be upset. I don't need that. I'm not even sure why you would do that. Don't do that." She sits down on the steps of the shelter next to Paige, toying idly with the recorder. She raises the goggles up to her forehead so that she can keep her gaze on Paige, "If you are making sacrifices. Be sure that the people are sacrificing for know the cost." Her eyes quickly start to flick around looking at various other things, and she puts the goggles back down. "I told you - it's not a physical price. Just--let's just say I would just be getting help from a group whose ideals and tactics I don't exactly agree with. That's not -that- bad of a sacrifice, right? And what does the cost to me matter if it would benefit my friends, my family? The others wouldn't need to know. And what they don't know can't hurt them." Paige looks at Heather, offering a weak attempt at a smile that fades as her ears droop. "Right? I mean, what other options do I have? Stay here and be miserable while I watch my friends' lives fall apart and I fail to make good on all that I promised them? Watch as they face the harsh reality of the world without protection? Mai's going to be crushed in there, in the prison system. Can you even imagine? I mean, even if, let's say, she -did- kill someone, she's such a sweetheart. What would the justice system do to that kind soul of hers? I mean, come on. Think of Fiona. If she doesn't come here or end up going to school, she's going to be living on the streets, in the parks, we both know this. She'll get beat up or killed in her sleep. You might end up going hungry. For all your talk about not committing crimes, how long do you think you can subsist before someone calls the cops on you for scrounging around in trash bins? How long before you step into a trap? What does it matter what I have to sacrifice if I could save you all from such pain and misery? What choice do I fucking have?" Heather puts down the recorder while Paige is talking, though she still watches the other girl while she is speaking, but eats one of her packed peanut butter and banana sandwiches while she does. When Paige is done speaking (around the time the sandwich concludes), Heather gulps a mouthful of water and replies on her recorder, "I don't know how bad of a sacrifice that is. Is scrounging a crime? I have needed to do it less anyways. It sounds like your mind is made up. But I don't know how you've made it up. Am I here to convince you to pay the price? Or to convince you not to? I think my plan still works fine. It's more challenging without Mai. But you seem to disagree." "I don't think it's a crime, no," Paige answers with a shake of her head. "And I don't--" Eyes drop once again. "I don't really -want- to join the group. But it's not a question of what I want. It's a question of what I -should- do. Joining the group would very beneficial to myself as well as my friends. Think of what I could do with the proper resources. I could actually make a difference in peoples' lives. A positive one. Not just...not just being their friend and all - an -actual- difference. I would actually have a place in life, a real purpose. Something to work towards, a goal to look forward to. Think about it." Despite the calm optimism of her speech, the goat girl's ears are drooping and she looks rather distraught, conflicted. "It would be great, you know? I would just stay out of the way of all the bad things and I would--I would have a family, you know? Maybe it's time to give someone else a chance at finding a family for -me-, don't you see?" But now she's choking up with tears on her face. "It would make everything better. They're just trying to make everything better. Sometimes that means hurting and killing people. But it makes things better. It makes everything better. It could--it could make -me- feel better." Try as she might, the horned mutant's mind still does not seem completely made up. Heather looks back and forth a couple of times and she plays in reply as she makes a realization, "You're crying. This is something you do not want to do. You do not agree with the people you are being asked to help. If you do not agree with them, then do not do it. You will find others who you agree with. Or you may come to agree with them later. But you do not now. And there's maybe a reason that you don't." Heather pauses the tape, and considers Paige for a moment, before finishing, "And if that reason persists. You will not feel better. You will feel worse. Counterproductive." "But I could make such a difference," Paige whispers, her expression quite sad. "It doesn't matter if I want to do it. It doesn't --" Her nose is running and she sniffs to keep the fluid inside. "It doesn't matter. And maybe the reason is that I'm selfish. That I think of myself as righteous and better than everyone else. They've been pushed harder than me. Just look at what Mai did. Or what they say she did. Who's to say that I'm any different? Maybe violence -is- the answer. I'm not saying that I would hurt anyone. I'm just saying...Heather, my options are very limited. I'm falling apart. I know I will feel worse if I join, but it's killing me inside. I just want to help." The tears haven't stopped, but she doesn't seem to register the fact that she's crying even in spite of Heather pointing it out. "Time is running out for Mai. She'll get some lously public defender who doesn't give two shits about her. They'll see her as a mutant and their mind will already be made up. I don't want it to be true, but that's how the world is. But I could -help-." There's a pause as she watches the other girl with sorrowful eyes and her jaw works back and forth. "I don't want to do it." Heather listens to Paige speak and then shrugs a couple of times so that Paige gets the idea that she's shrugging, "Don't do it." She pulls one of the peanut butter banana sandwiches from her bag and offer it to Paige, in case she needs to sate her caloric needs and because it could be seen as a comfort food. It is wrapped up in plastic wrap. "I don't know anything about this group. And maybe I would agree with this group. But you don't. There will be better people to do that. People who won't cry about the idea of it." Paige's eyes regard the sandwich and then flick to Heather. It seems she actually considers the offer before lifting a hand. "Thank you, but I don't--I don't need that. They have--they give me food here, alright? It's okay. And do you really agree with killing people? Of blowing things up? I mean, I -don't-, but that's...I mean if they're -good- people, then that's different, right? I can get along with good people. And they never seem to cry about it, so they must feel pretty good about it." It's the weakest argument the goat girl has left in her arsenal and soon her shoulders slump and she sighs. "They're giving me an opportunity here. To make a difference. I won't take them up on it right now. But I will continue to consider it. I just--" Another sniff and she wipes her eyes and nose with a sleeve. "I just want a family, you know?" "I hate the idea of killing people or destroying things. It seems like a waste. Those people and buildings could have been important," plays Heather, shrugging towards Paige. "If I had to I might kill someone. I would hate it. I would hate hate hate to do it. I would not want to do it. But if I had to and there was no escaping that. Maybe. I don't want to think about it." She turns her head towards Paige and says, "I know. I want a family too." "Me too," comes Paige's response. "I think -everyone- is important. I mean, everyone so long as they're not..." Eyes narrow as her ears flick up for a moment. "As long as they're not the people they say they target. So maybe I -do- agree with them in a way? But I was told I wouldn't have to kill anyone. I wouldn't even have to hurt anybody. I could just -help- people." Even as she says this, she's biting her bottom lip, as though unsure of the actual truth. Then she nods. "But I would do it too, if I had no other option. And I think they feel like they have no other option. And maybe they really don't. The person I talked to mentioned something about preventing a future that might have been. A terrible, horrible future. So maybe they -don't- have any other option. And so maybe they don't have the choice of hating what they do either because it's what they -have- to do, you know? And I think they really do care about mutants, about us. Maybe I've been looking for family in the wrong way." Heather glances to Paige and plays, "Yes. They probably care about mutants. They probably care a lot. If they are doing violence to people to advance mutant kind. My parents didn't care much about mutant rights. Except because it affected them. But they did bad violent things for other causes that they cared about. It's not the same. But it's still more violence." She pulls her legs towards herself a bit more closely. "Family. If you think you can find it there. Let me know how it goes for you. But I think you're going about it fine. There will be setbacks." "Well, I'm -not- fine," Paige confesses to her friend. "Sometimes--you know, sometimes I just want someone to take care of -me-. I've run out of money, Heather. If I don't find a means of income by the end of the month, I can't pay for my phone. My parents don't care much about mutant rights either. In fact, they vehemently oppose mutant rights. They want to roll back all the progress that's ever been made in our favor. Maybe that's what my purpose is, you know? To stand up against them. To stand up against the Friends of Humanity. I've been so passive, just struggling to survive. But -imagine-. What if I -weren't- struggling? I don't understand what other options I have. I can continue as I am, trying to make it day to day, risking getting beaten up every time I walk down the street, watching as my group of friends are torn apart. -Or- I could do something. And maybe find a different family." Ears flick up and slowly lower as she bites at the inside of her cheek. "I'm sorry to put so much of this on you, but it's really helped to have someone to talk to about it. I've got a lot of things to consider in regards to the opportunity I think I'm being given." Heather nods a few times quickly at what Paige concludes with, and then looks down at her recorder. She looks towards Paige and she says, "Maybe it is your purpose. But maybe it is your purpose to do it in your own way. If you want someone to take care of you. I will. I will pay for your phone. Or if your phone plan is too expensive maybe we will look at a different one. Because I'm not paying for something that is needlessly expensive." She drops the goggles down around her neck again, and puts on her most serious face, which is somehow more intense than her normal expression. "We just need to change our goals. We need to adjust. But we haven't lost. We can take care of each other. And then if you want to stand up in their way. Then you can do it. But not because you have no other choice." Paige's ears flick up and then press down as she narrows her gaze at Heather. "No," she whispers as she looks down. "You cannot take care of me. You have to take care of -yourself-. I can't accept your money; not if I'm not contributing anything. This--" she gestures to the shelter behind them, "--at least is a charity organization. They exist to take care of people like me. The destitute." Eyes meet Heather's for a few moments before she blinks and glances askew, face read and teeth grinding silently. "There is no 'we'. There is 'you' who has powers and a means to make money on your own. Then there is 'me' who has nothing. -You- have not lost. You are successful. You accomplish your goals, fulfill your promises, and make ends meet. -I- am not you. -I- have lost. It's -my- goals that have to change." Even as the furred mutant says this, she's crying again. "-You- have a future. -I- am nothing." Once she's finished speaking, she hunches over and buries her face into her hands. It's very hard to hide sobbing, but she's at least making an effort. Heather shakes her head at Paige quickly, "There is a you. And there is a me. And there is a we. If I take care of you. And you take care of me. Then we are better than two people. Each of us alone is only as good as one person. Maybe not even that much. But together we could be as good as /six/ people." She waves a hand flippantly and adds, "That's just math." For a moment, just a brief perceptible moment, at her own comment she grins before her face returns to the flat expression it usually occupied. "I am not question marks. You said so. We are not question marks." A sobbed, pathetic laugh comes from Paige's hunched figure as her ears twitch at Heather's words. "How could I possibly take care of you?" she counters with a hint of bitterness in her voice. She raises her head to examine the other girl with tired eyes. "How could I possibly take care of you?" she repeats as though the concept is completely preposterous. "Don't you understand? I'm broke, Heather. And I'm -broken-. I can't even feed myself. What could -I- possibly do for you? What in the fucking hell could I -possibly- have to give you? And I'm only one person, not five or six. I may not be question marks, but I have nothing to offer to you." Heather's teeth clack together a few times loudly in frustration, the kind of clack that you'd have to be at super speed to do, "If you don't want to take care of me that is fine. And if you don't want me to take care of you that is fine. Is that not something you want?" She scratches her head and scrunches up her messy hair with a hand, "If you don't want it then I won't bother you with it. I just thought you did. And that I do too. I need someone who does not feel lost in a world of statues. So that I can have a connection with it. I need someone who does not hurt people she touches. I need someone who cares enough to try and understand. If it's not you that's okay. But I thought-" She hits the pause button and makes a bit of a squeak to herself. Wide eyes regard Heather with surprise. "You--you -want- me to...You--" Brows furrow at the other girl. "But Heather, I have so little to offer. I just thought you'd be better off with someone else. But I -do- care. I care -so much-. It's why--it's why I can't write Mai off. Even if she killed someone. Even if she did it in cold blood. I still--I still care so much about her." Ears flick down and then up as she blinks at the other mutant. "And I care about Fiona. I care about you, too. All of you are so important to me. And I mean it. It's like the Doctor--you probably don't know the Doctor." She's about to move on before she sighs, perhaps figuring an explanation on this tangent would be beneficial for her friend. "The Doctor is a character from a television show. He travels through time. Not like...not like you exactly. But he goes around helping people all over space and time. He once said that -everyone- is important." Paige leans back, staring at the sky. "I am lost," she admits after a few moments. "And I--I--as hard as it is for me to admit--I -want- someone to take care of me." Then, looking down at the ground and much more meekly, "I want it so much. I can--I can do whatever you need me to do. I just--I will try my best." Now, eyes on Heather. "And you. You do not hurt people you touch. You have touched me and it has made me feel better. Many times." "I mean literally touch," says Heather, "Sometimes my touches are more like hard slaps. It's on accident. I got into trouble in the group home." She nods a few times rapidly and says, "This Doctor sounds very educated. Like he knows what he's talking about. I think everyone is important too. Everyone has lessons they can teach me." She pauses the recording and gestures towards her own forehead and then to Paige's. "You said you wanted to live at these Commons. I will try and convince them to take us. Even though there is an interview that I am not sure I can pass. Then we will rent a one bedroom. If not there then somewhere else for now." "I can put up with hard slaps. I mean, well, if you give me a warning first, I guess." Paige's ears twitch and it seems she is trying to regain some semblance of a non-despairing mood. A shrug is offered as she remarks, "I promise you won't get in trouble with me. And the Doctor -is- very educated. Maybe we can download a few episodes and speed it up for you. Does that sound like it could work?" The goat girl appears genuinely interested in Heather's thoughts on this matter. "I really enjoy the show. I would give us something to share other than a bedroom, you know?" Then she grinds her teeth as her eyes fall and she pulls out her phone, turning the small device over in her palm. "This thing costs me twenty dollars a month. I paid for January. It's just a simple phone. It can call and text and browse the web when I'm connected to Wi-Fi. It also lets me use some social media. Though, to be honest, I mostly just use that to stay up-to-date with Marinov's doings and happenings." Again looking at the other girl. "The interview will be okay. You will pass it, alright? I will be there with you. We will do it together. And if you end up talking to them alone and you mention my name...let them know I'm willing to do anything, okay? Anything I can to make a difference in our lives." Heather considers the offer of downloading the television show, "Okay. I will pay for the next month of your phone if you need. And you will download this Doctor Show and speed it up for me. And we will get the apartment. Not necessarily in that order." She stands up, brushes herself off and says, "I have to go and rest for this cycle. My phone has a long battery life. So you can always text me. I will let you know when we have our interview. Okay. Yep. That's all." She makes a quick saluting motion and zips off.