Logs:Of Rescues and Respect (Or, A Surprise Guest)

Of Rescues and Respect (Or, A Surprise Guest)
Dramatis Personae Kavalam, K.C., Lael, Marcus, Marinov, Naomi, Spencer, Zeke
In Absentia	2020-12-01 "Of course it's really me, I've never been anyone else!"
Location Across the Rift - Somewhere in Maine
The air has become cooler as the darkness has set in, only the glow of the waning gibbous moon that comes through the branches providing any illumination at all. There is a barred owl that has been hooting persistently through the night, but at a distance where it does not disturb the cold sleep of the displaced students. While it is dark, Marinov's eyes are at the most useful for the group when night falls. They prowl around the outer perimeter of the makeshift camp, surveying for threats, human, mechanical or animal. Their patrol makes almost no sound, and their surefooted gait avoids all but the sometimes crackling of damp leaves that have found their way to the ground at the end of autumn. Marinov's jacket is done up to keep the cold and humid air from cutting through their sweater and fur. They pause a moment, ears alert, as they try to determine the origin of some sound they heard nearby. What was that sound? Marinov may never know, since in the very next instant there is an extra teenager beside them, sturdy boots crunching leaves and twigs underfoot as he appears, startling the small animals in the forest around them. Spencer is dressed in many tattered layers beneath a black duffle coat that's slightly too large for him, a faded black kippah with a red Star Wars Rebel Alliance symbol on his head. Though lanky and lean, this Spence looks far healthier than the one the X-Kids left back in their own world, and still has all his hair, though it's choppy and overlong, with a single thin braid trailing out from behind his right ear. His wide gray eyes have the same boyish wonder, though -- or almost the same. There's something haunted and sad, too, in the gaze that he fixes on Marinov in the darkness. "It's -- it's really you!" he whispers. Zeke was imperceptible when the stranger appeared. Earlier in the evening he had grabbed his backpack full of art supplies and climbed up into a tall pine tree with a lot of sturdy low branches—perfect for climbing. High up in the tree Zeke had found a spot where two large branches intersected close to the trunk; it was here where Zeke had decided to set up camp. Throughout the evening Zeke had switched between perceptibility and imperceptibility—holding his breath for a minute or so then taking the new few minutes to catch his breath. If the other X-Kids found Zeke popping in and out of their memory annoying, none of them had mentioned it...yet. During these moments of peaceful solitude, Zeke sketched the woods around him. It was dark, but his eyes had adapted. In the distance he saw an owl perched high in a tree and he sketched it deep in shadow. He sketched large crooked trees. He sketched the moon. He even sketched Marinov who prowled below keeping watch. Then, there was one more person in their camp. The stranger hadn't walked into their camp, he had simply appeared. << Christ! >> In his surprise Zeke almost took a breath, but he caught himself just in time. << Who in the hell is that? And how did he get the jump on Marinov? >> Zeke thought as he placed his sketchbook and his pencil into his backpack. << Is he like me? >> Zeke wondered as he peered down at the scene below, waiting for some sign that his assistance was needed. The sound could have been Naomi, gingerly picking her way through the woods as quiet as she can as she returns to camp with a roll of toilet paper clutched in her hand. She dress the same as she has been since they left Bangor, though her shell is back with her sleeping bag and the dark green layer beneath finally exposed. She’s just coming around a tree, ready to wave to Marinov that she’s alive and not eaten by the wilderness - when a second shape appears in her line of vision. Naomi gasps, slapping a hand over her mouth immediately. Her eyes flicker bright emerald in the night, illuminating her scales for a moment as her mouth opens - but the word that escapes, though laced with the hissing that accompanies her psionic demands, isn’t a demand. “Spence?” The glow fades from her eyes but Naomi’s disbelief remains. She rushes (still quiet, but less carefully than before) to Spencer and Marinov. When Spence appears, Marinov springs straight up in the air, easily clearing their own height with the sudden jump, and their tail floofs out. But by the time they land back on the ground, they are simply brushing off their jacket like nothing happened and nobody saw this startle (and even if they had, it was not a big deal). Unfortunately-- as their ears swivel around-- they seem to determine there are indeed others around. A hissed, "Fuck! A little warning, Spence, I'm sure we've-- wait." They lean towards Spence and sniff a couple of times. "You're not my Spence. You--" Bewildered and hotly, they continue, "Of course it's really me, I've never been anyone else!" Spence yelps when Marinov jumps and he disappears -- -- only to instantly reappear just one step back, his hands raised up in surrender. "Sorry!" he mumbles, abashed. "I didn't have any way to warn you, or I woulda." He sounds just like the other Spence, though. He wilts a little, lowering his hands when it becomes obvious Marinov isn't about to attack him. "Sorry," he says again, "it's just -- I thought you were --" He breaks off, biting his lower lip. "I mean -- you are dead. I mean not you you, obviously. The...Marinov I knew." His shoulders slump. << Who in the fresh hell is Spence? >> Zeke deftly made his way down his treetop hiding spot, grabbing branches with one hand and swinging himself down to lower branches. He made no effort to move slowly or silently, there was no need—a perk of being imperceptible. Once his feet touched the ground, he noticed that Naomi had found her way back to the camp. << Good. Backup. Looks like she knows this Spence guy too though...or a version of this Spence guy. Christ this is weird. >> Zeke stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and walked over to Marinov and Spence. He circled the pair, holding his breath all the while, and sized up Spence. He seemed...well he seemed like a threat. Zeke walked over to the base of a tree and picked up a solid looking branch. Feeling the weight in his hands, Zeke knew that the branch didn't just look solid; it could do some damage. << Only if it goes there though. >> Zeke thought as he walked back over to the others, taking position directly behind Spence...he only had a few more seconds of held breath left. He'd make up his mind before those seconds were up. When Spencer reappears, its a breath away from Naomi, cutting off her approach from his right side. She stops in time to not barrel over him, clutching the toilet paper tight in one hand. Her eyes are wide and rapidly becoming watery - though she is following the conversation, her focus is on Spencer’s hair, specifically — “You got a Star Wars braid?” She reaches her arms out to him in what could be the beginnings of a hug, pulls them back and wraps them around her torso instead. Looks to Marinov, back to Spencer, voice hopeful. “You’re - the other Spence?” Marinov takes a few slow breaths, staying silent for a few moments to calm down and reorganize their thoughts, before they say, "Man. I'm sorry about my dead doppleganger. For what it's worth, I think your doppleganger is pretty cool, so probably dead me thought that too." Their eyes narrow slightly, "What was my funeral like? Was it tasteful? Big?" They laugh while shaking their head disbelievingly, "Fuck, this is some kind of surreal shit heaped on surreal shit. How did you get here? Why did you get here?" Spence turns to Naomi. There's no hint of recognition in his still-wide eyes, but he cracks a sudden bright smile. "Yeah I'm Spencer Holland and oh man hardly anyone recognizes it!" He tugs at his braid, the duck of his head bashful even if his blush is hard to discern in the relative dimness. "I mean I'm not cool at all but I think you -- them -- Marinov liked me anyway. The funeral was so stylish, I mean..." His eyes water and he blinks hard. Sniffles hard, too. "Um...I heard you were heading for the border and I thought I'd pop on over and escort you? I guess you're not that far but I know some folks with a bus. Get you up there quick and safe." << Whelp, reckon I don't need this...but I mig— >> Suddenly Zeke's lungs are desperate for air. He had pushed himself past his normal record—1 minute and 27 seconds. Suddenly, Zeke is perceptible behind Spence and Naomi, and while his emergence has no audible tell, Zeke knows that everything from his breathing to his shifting weight and even his mere presence must be painfully obvious in contrast to his absence just seconds before. "Uh, hey y'all," Zeke begins to raise a hand in greeting, then realizes he's still holding his makeshift weapon, and stops. He takes another quick moment to fill his lungs with cool autumn air. "So uh, I don't know Spence...either Spence, but if he's offerin' an escort, I reckon we shouldn't look this particular gift horse in the mouth." Zeke smiles what he hopes is a nonthreatening smile—it's the one he reserves for putting white folks at ease when it's obvious the sight of a Black teenager makes them jumpy. "I'm Zeke by the way...pleasure to know ya," Zeke hopes that last part sounded more certain than it felt. “Of course I recognize it, you just a big nerd in any dimension and—“ Naomi’s voice hitches, “You got — hair.” Naomi looks about ready to burst into tears at any moment. She wipes her eyes on the back of her sleeve, missing Zeke appear out of the ether. It doesn’t startle her much as the memory of him (and his power) reasserts himself. Frowns instead. “I mean, thank you, but...” She trails off, eyes flitting between Zeke and Marinov. “We might- maybe we ain’t going to Canada? We might— be heading to Shippenville. Pennsylvania.” She bites her lip, uncertainty plastered on her face. Marinov is a bit startled, though notably much less startled, when Zeke appears. They look at him for a few moments with wide eyes and mumble, "Sneaky guys popping out of nowhere all the time..." They look back towards Spence, "Yeah," they confirm, determined and serious, "Shippenville." They start to brush down their tail with their hand so that the previously bristled fur sits right again. "There's some people we need to find there, and I'm not keen to be dissuaded this time. If you can help us somehow, I think I can get the others on board." Spence whips around when he hears Zeke's breath, his hand reflexively dropping to a pouch at his belt and his weight sinking low when he sees the stick. But when the boy speaks and -- more important, when Marinov doesn't seem excessively alarmed -- he relaxes into a smile himself. "Hey, I'm Spence! I don't know you either, but that's not gonna stop me helping you!" He glances at Naomi now, head tilting slightly. "Of course I have hair why wouldn't I have hair I mean I guess it needs cutting..." He runs a hand through his unruly bangs, straightening his kippah while he's at it. All the casualness flees, though, at the mention of Shippenville. "Oh man, that place. They got my pa locked up in there." His hands clench into fists. "Me and some badass Resistance friends, we've been planning to bust him outta there. We'll get your friends out, too!" There has been a small stirring some time back from one of the secreted-away sleeping bags, an extra pair of eyes peeking out from the darkness, but Marcus has remained quiet and tucked away until now. He creeps out of his bag, slipping to the edge of the group to crouch against a tree and examine the newcomer with a scrunched brow. "Your pa locked up," is the first thing he says. "Some thing. Not so different." His arms wrap around his knees. "Really, you can. Bust?" Zeke takes a small step back when Spence whirls towards him; his eyes follow Spence's hand down to the pouch on his belt, only relaxing when Spence speaks. Relief floods Zeke's body and his hands loosen around stick in his hand—though he doesn't drop it. His "I reckon we'd all 'preciate the help crossing the border," then he turns to Naomi. "Or at least I thought that was the case." Zeke takes another step back and to the side, distancing himself from the group of talking teens and Spence. "I don't much like that any of your people are locked up...but I'm not sure what we can do." When Marcus speaks up Zeke hardly even flinches—his nerves are already on a razor's edge; what's one more surprise on top of that? "You think we stand snowball's chance in hell, Marcus?" Naomi presses her lips together when Spence runs his hand through his hair, opens her mouth to say something - closes it again as her eyes go somehow wider, eyelids pressed against the lower border of her scales. “Shit, they got Mr. Holland?” She seems more surprised than Marcus is at this news. “I mean - that’s good then, that means our friends got someone in there to look after them until -“ Naomi whips around mid thought, glowering at Zeke. “‘Your people?’ That’s our people from our school in our dimension in some sort of Alcatraz we can’t leave them.” Lael is slower to rouse, though by the time his sister's voice is rising in agitation he's hastening to wriggle from his sleeping bag. "Wait now, who's bustin' folks out? We ain't--" He freezes in place even as he's pulling on his boots, shivering now in the baselayers he'd stripped down to for sleeping. His eyes are fixed unblinkly on Spencer. "Jesus Christ," he blurts. "You really think you can pull it off? From how K.C. was tellin' it the place is downright impenetrable." Marinov's jaw tenses a little when Spencer asks why he wouldn't have hair and says quietly, "Just... consider having more regular physicals than a kid your age normally does, yeah?" They huff softly and, while their ears swivel towards Marcus, their eyes flick towards Zeke. They dig their hands into the pockets of their jacket. "If we've got any chance at all in hell, then that's a chance I'm willing to take, at least. You can sit back if you want, but the way I figure, the only way any of us make it by is if we work together. If there's one thing I know about Spences, it's that they're trustworthy." K.C. is wriggling her way upright, too, at all this discussion, though she doesn't get out of her sleeping bag. She keeps it curled around herself, its hood pulled up over her head and just her face peeking out as she wiggles a little closer. "Spence. Why Spence. Oh no." She stifles a yawn against the sleeping bag. Blinks blearily at the others. "Are we dying." "I bet my pa's taking care of everyone he can, on the inside," Spencer agrees softly. His eyes flick between Zeke and Marcus. "But yeah, I'm sure. Like, not by myself, but I got a crew you know?" He puffs out his chest. "I wouldn't lie --" He turns at the sound of K.C.'s voice, breaking into a huge if confused smile. "Whoa how did you get here we're not dying I'm here to rescue you I'm gonna get Kate n' Wasp to pick you up and drive you to the border." His expression brightens suddenly. "Oh! Unless you wanna come with me and Vector and Timeslip to do jailbreaking." Marcus is frowning deep through this exchange of conversation, expression crumpled in concentration as he tries following all of it. "What is a Vector?" he ventures, uncertain. "Or Time-zip?" He shakes his head as he looks up at Zeke, though this seems more confused than negating. "Us? No. Some help?" His hands spread. "Must to try, yes? Not -- leave for die. In the jail?" He bites his lip, glancing to Marinov. Then Spencer. "If good help. You think? Trustworthy?" Zeke meets Naomi's glower. "Yes, your people," he shoots back. "I've only been at the school for a dang week. I don't even know half of y'alls names yet." He lets go of his makeshift weapon with one hand and frustratedly runs the hand over his short packed afro. Then to Marinov is a softer voice; "I hope your people...our people," then he looks towards Spence. "I hope everyone is okay and I hope y'all can get them out of freakin' Shippenville." Zekes squares his shoulders and looks around at the small group of X-Kids in various states of consciousness. "I reckon bringing this many people along for a rescue mission might be more of a hinderance than a boon though. That bein' said," Zeke pauses for a moment. "My powers might come in handy durin' a prison break. As long as that escort to the border still stands afterwards." Naomi flinches when Zeke snaps back at her, eyes shimmering dangerous green for a moment before settling, more mollified by his last comment. “The border - if we can’t get home we can go there after. With everyone.” Her eyes scan back to Spencer. “Those names are so. Cool. But-“ her eyes slide back to Marcus, to her brother. “You really think they can get our friends out of there? Really really?” It is extremely unsurprising, no doubt, that nobody has noticed Kavalam waking. How long he's been awake is unclear -- but he looks awake enough by the time he's noticeable to the others, still ensconsced in his sleeping bag as well and sitting up with his head propped against his knees. "How long have we been on the road? And you've not bothered to learn our names? What a strange admission." His eyes flick to Spencer, assessing. "His powers will come in handy if you can manage a jailbreak in two minutes or less. How strong are your friends, exactly?" Lael pulls his jacket on and rises. "I don't rightly know if any us here'd be a whole lotta use in a jailbreak," he hedges. "K.C., maybe, and..." His brows wrinkle, his hair coiling faster. It's not clear whether he would have come up with the name he was searching for if Kavalam hadn't made himself known. "...Kavalam. I surely don't know about Spence's friends. But you said they're with a resistance? They got to be used to fightin' these robots an' all." He's still shivering as he makes his way over the other kids, eyes still lingering on Spencer even as he goes to Naomi's side. "Regardless, we can help folks as you get 'em out. I reckon it'd be mighty comforting for them to see familiar faces in this unfamiliar world." Marinov's jaw remains tense and they say to Zeke. "Well, they can be your people, too, if you let them be your people. But if we don't get them out of there, they might not be anyone to anyone anymore." They look towards Kavalam, looking a bit embarrassed when they remember how frequently they've forgotten his name. "Uhh... yeah. If there is a resistance, like Lael says, they probably know what's up there better than we do. If this Spence says that they can do it, or even have a chance, then..." They nod towards Marcus, and then back towards Spence again, firmly. "I trust him." "Whoa what are his powers?" Spencer asks -- of Kavalam and presumably regarding Zeke, though he seems to promptly forget he's asked, his gangly frame practically vibrating now. "Oh boy oh boy I guess you don't have a Vector in your world but he's famous here!" He hesitates momentarily, his fingers fluttering against the hem of his coat. "He -- he can take down pretty much all the guards and all the Sentinels like...by himself. And Timeslip is so fast and she's great at planning! And I can break the suppression grids -- do you have those? Whatever, I can break them if I like, chuck enough stuff into them." He looks around at the the visitors from the other world. "I'm sure we can figure out how all of you can help if you want, and your friends would be so relieved to see you!" To Marcus, in a spill of fluid if heavily accented Québécois French, "{My friends and I, we have survived for this long, no? I trust them with my life.}" "Sentinels. Good. I hide us. Can't break them." K.C.'s eyes have darted between the others through the rest of the conversation but she is -- electing to ignore it, focusing back on Spencer for this spill of information. "Tired, though. Of hiding. Very tired." Marcus's eyes light at the French -- his own comes rapid, a heavy Haitian accent in his words. "{He hides people, but he's not good at it. Kavalam is good at it -- he can hide all of us, all day. Zeke can only hide people he's touching, and not from the robots so I don't think that's really any help with jailbreaking -- but if your friends can take out the robots? That's big. K.C. just hides us from them. Certainly that's kept us alive this far but I don't think hiding is enough to get us into a jail. Will they have transportation?}" A small hesitation. "{How big is the jail? Our friends aren't so many people but -- a world like this? I don't imaging we're going to break out your father and our friends and leave everyone else, no? Have they done this a lot? I guess if you -- they -- are still alive. How soon can they get here?}" When he switches back to English it's slower, stilted: "We all -- little tired." “If there is a way I can help, I wanna.” Naomi is only looking at Spence, though her arm brushes briefly against her brother’s, ignoring much of the crosstalk. “If there are people guards. I can help- I made things so much worse please I want to fix it.” Naomi’s eyes are wet again, looking as tired as Marcus implied, but the guilt is not the most pressing thing on her mind. Her brother can surely feel the sudden rush of relief: relief at seeing Spence, even if it’s the wrong one. Relief that finally there is some sort of direction that isn’t just running away. For the first time since blockbuster, Naomi’s thoughts are full of hope. Zeke looks from Naomi, to Kavalam, to Marinov—their reproaches hitting their marks in rapid succession. "Christ," Zeke rubs the back of his neck. "I don't want anyone to get hurt or left behind. This is all just happenin' so dang fast." He takes a breath. "I'll start learnin' everyone's names once we're all safely on our way to Canada...or back home if that's possible," he says to Kavalam, hoping that his attempt at humor is at least recognized, if not appreciated. To Naomi he says; "And yes, I mean everyone; don't want you starin' daggers anymore than you already been doing." When Marinov says that their people could be Zeke's people, Zekes stares hard into Marinov's eyes—intensely searching but with no ill-will; it's a pleading look. "Don't go makin' promises like that," Zeke says at last. Then he breaks eye contact, shakes his head, and turns to Spence. "I'm in. Like Kavalam said, my powers only work for about two minutes, but I'm completely imperceptible while I'm holdin' my breath and I can make two other people imperceptible too as long as they maintain physical contact with me." With this a wave of exhaustion comes over Zeke. Between consecutive uses of his power throughout the evening, the adrenaline rush caused by Spence's arrival, and the rapid barrage of back and forth between the X-Kids, Zeke is running on fumes. Shoulders slumped a bit, Zeke makes his way over to his sleeping bag at the base of his favorite pine tree and sits down, pressing his back against the tree and closing his eyes—listening, but offering nothing else. In Kavalam's mind there's not much trace of relief there, really -- the background irritability that has been a constant presence on the overworked and underslept journey has heightened into an actual disgust, bristling and furious and vaguely contemplating how much anyone would notice if he quietly tamped his power up to leave Zeke here unnoticed in the morning; it churns up against a more tired acknowledgment that he will definitely not, in fact, do that. His palms grind against his eyes, his shoulders slumping heavily within his sleeping bag. "You are," he tells Spencer, << just as fucking annoying in both worlds, >> "-- very like your other self." << God help us. >>