Logs:Vignette: The Journey Home

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Vignette: The Journey Home

CN: Minor fight/Mutant Bashing

Dramatis Personae

Rasa

2019-09-19


Rasa seeks a night at home after a long, long day.

Location

Brooklyn, NY


Salmon colored gauze covers Rasa's head, echoing the sunset, the scarf wrapping its impending darkness inside, swallowing zir soft curls and warm skin, the color of the twilight drenched sidewalks and pavement, cool gray with just a tinge of pink.. Amber eyes scan the horizon, as the B train slips out of its subterranean home, racing the sun's descent into the Brooklyn neighborhoods.

Sighing, Rasa turns zir attention back to the interior of the train, fingers tugging the layered scarf forward to obscure zir features further. Ze found a good bench near the back third of the train car. No one bothers to sit next to zir as there is plenty of room elsewhere, allowing many of the passengers the personal space the subway didn't often afford. There is so much space no one bothers to examine the swaddled figure for potential seat neighbor vibes, which pleases the tired college student to no end.

That is until the B train stopped at its first above ground station. A small gaggle of young women boards and takes their places on the bench opposite, a little further away. Their proximity isn't remarkable, per se, but the not-so-casual whispers wouldn't let them slip from zir mind.

"It's her! The one I told you about!"

"What, the one who broke down crying?"

"No, the sarcastic one with the skin condition."

"Ugh, what is that skin condition anyway? She's all gray. You think she's dead?"

"Gray? It was brick red last time... do you think those people paint their skin?"

"Warpaint?" There is distinct discomfort in her tone.

"Noooo," As if it is obvious what the girl is referring to. "For Religious reasons. Like those people in India!"

Rasa's jaw sets as zir skin cooled further and visibly hardened, closed lids hiding the roll of zir eyes. "I am not Indian," ze mutters quietly between clenched teeth.

"What was that?" The voice masks its cool tones in the pretense of interest.

Perhaps Rasa wanted the attention. Ze knew any response from zir would instigate something. It had been a long ass day of classes and homework assignments, then a trip to Westchester for therapy, despite the sessions seeming less and less fruitful. Maybe ze just wanted to take some of this shit out on someone else for once, like so many people did to zir, but ze thought better of it. Ze cleared zir throat and responded clearly, "I apologize, I merely wish to say that I am not from India, nor do I have any Indian relatives."

"You know, it's not polite to eavesdrop on people's conversations," Their ringleader replies, turning to face Rasa. She is an average twenty-something, sporting a short dress and high heels, lips pursed hard after she speaks. The faces of the girls around her are conflicted. One looks sheepish at being caught gossiping about someone to their face. Another looks frustrated that they are having this conversation at all. Two feign nonchalance, but send sidelong glances in zir direction. One is flat out glaring at zir.

"Again, I apologize," Rasa tries again, lowering zir gaze.

"I swear," Turning back toward her friends, she scoffs. "Don't they teach anyone manners these days? My gran would have tanned my backside for talking to a stranger like that."

Prickles of frustration dance in yellow lines across zir face as ze clenches zir teeth again, lowering zir head to pull the scarf about zir further. Eyes shift toward the window once more when a voice cuts through the inane, continued chatter.

"Is.. that person bothering you?"

Masculine tone, gruffly spoken, deep -- Rasa doesn't dare to look. Could be someone tall with that vocal range - or someone heavy set. Ze leans forward, casting more of zir silhouette on the window, providing a better mirror to the group. Not one but three rough looking men were walking up to the offend(ed/ing) party. Two of them were already glaring in zir direction while the third looked the girls up and down, one by one. His two friends didn't bother with the excuse of showing off to the ladies.

Rasa's eyes refocus on the city outside, studying the rooftops and streets that they rush past. Ze counts three or four blocks into the next station -- the one before zirs, but good enough. The train starts slowing. The polymorph rises mechanically and pads quietly over one of the doors, in the opposite direction of the other passengers. Please... just let this go? I just want to go home.

Ears prickle for more conversation, but the tones are actually hushed now and a half glance shows to speaker flirting with the woo girls. Good. Ze vibrates with nervous energy, bouncing lightly on the balls of zir feet, waiting for the train to stop and open the doors. Ze rebalances through the jerky stop and focuses on the widening gap between the two metal panels. Just as ze is about to step out, ze feels the world pulled out from underneath zir, the neck of zir hooded sweatshirt tightening, the teeth of the zipper catching against skin.

Ze is only in the air for a matter of seconds, but the resounding crash of zir head against the closed doors on the other side knocks a few more minutes onto Rasa's perception. Ears ringing, ze tries to get up, but finds nothing but panic as ze fails to draw in a breath. Zir mind rushes, slipping from the logical explanation that the wind was driven from zir lungs by the fall to the very real memory of someone reaching inside to squeeze all of the air out of a lung.

Ze is dragged to zir feet, pinned against the doors by the forearm of one of the two men ze lost track of during zir exit. The other presses his elbow down against the window next to zir, both smirking as ze struggles to stop the spasms in zir chest. "Who said you could go without a proper apology?"

The train chimes and the doors slide closed, the vehicle beginning to move again. Rasa balls up zir fists as ze finally gets past the most painful parts with a number of coughs. "I just... I just want to go home. We really don't have to do this." It's still painful to speak with the continued pressure on zir ribcage. Ze knows fighting won't going to end well, but the instinct steadily chips away at zir resolve the longer ze is pinned.

"No," Replies the second man, "we do. We don't fucking like your kind talking to defenseless ladies..."

"Defenseless?" Rasa attempts to interrupt. Ze glances to the group of girls, each very uncomfortable by the fact that there was now violence -- unaccustomed to that sort of thing. It is dirty, abrupt, and dangerous - and they really did not want to get bled on.

"Yes, Defenseless! Don't fucking talk back." he delivers a blow to Rasa's abdomen that cuts zir words off entirely. "Now, you tell every one of those filthy mutants you know. To get the fuck out of our city... out of our country -- hell, off the face of the planet."

Hot breath and spittle stuck to Rasa's face while a quivering blackness edges into zir vision. Focus. Focus. Hold off. Focus. Another punch. Ze winces, but continues to control zirself. It's not close enough to the next stop to escape yet. Ze slips the backpack loop off of one shoulder, continuing to arch zir back against the remaining portion. Ze barely notices the slurs thrown in zir face now. The noise is there, but they stopped registering as words. Ze is too busy looking at zir attackers, at the exterior, trying and failing to recognize landmarks.

Zir eyes turn yellow as ze struggles underneath the arms and fists of zir attackers but they feel no rewarding weakness from the onslaught, no pleasing whimpering from the trapped mutant. With nothing to satiate their anger, to give them the notion that their point was made, they just keep on making it. Green starts to blossom from under zir scalp and around zir eyes. The one pinning zir raises his fist to pummel zir face...

Rasa dropped zir backpack to hang from the crook of zir arm as ze collapses further back against the closed doors. Ze throws zir free arm upwards, knocking the arm that pressed against zir chest upwards as well, giving zirself enough wiggle room to get out from under it. Ze delivers an elbow to one of their guts as ze stomps on the instep of zir other attacker. The first stumbles backward, his innards roiling. The second snatches at zir, but misses due to the momentary blinding pain. Ze winds out from between them and rushes the door between cars, punching the release and slipping out into the open air and gathering dusk. And then ze jumps.

--

Ze stuffs the scarf ze was wearing into zir bag after scrubbing off some of the grime on zir hands from zir climb down the elevated rail on zir jeans. Ze leans against a support structure, in the dark, out of sight, breathing heavily. Zir hands tremble as hir body runs through a gambit of shapes, adrenalin still pumping through zir. It's going to take a long while to calm, so ze just pulls zirself together for the walk home. Swallowing hard, ze peeks out onto the adjacent street, looking for any signs of life before pulling up zir hood and proceeding, hunched over and stumbling, toward home.

Autumn's chill slips casually down the streets ahead of zir. The walk home isn't far. Soon enough, ze is standing outside the little tourist shop Ivan's family works and lives out of. The signs were half in Russian, half in English, promising 'tours of the city from very knowledgeable and trustworthy tour guides' - 'see the affordable parts of town and the best places to eat on your way to Broad-way!' Ze told them - and ze was sure that Ivan told them that Broadway was not hyphenated, but his father could not be dissuaded. It was how he said it, so it was how it was said.

Rasa peeks into the window, watching Ivan, zir Vanya, typing away at the business computer, likely attempting to rid it once more of spyware his mother is prone to download. His baby sister, twelve years old now, is resting her elbows on his shoulders, telling some story with animated hands and a fittingly dramatic tone. Ze smiles as ze watches. A second sister walks up behind her and starts braiding her hair -- so the first sister starts braiding Ivan's curls into a crown. When his mother enters, carrying a plate of food, the outsider ducks back into the darkness and heads to the fire escape that lead to zir and Ivan's apartment.

Ze slips through the window and steps into the apartment, scanning the floor before setting down zir backpack. Ze clicks zir tongue at the bed, waits a moment or two, then moves to sit down. Ze shifts off zir sweatshirt first, then all of the remaining layers until ze is wearing nothing on zir torso but a white band across zir flat chest. Ze pulls out zir phone and uses the camera to examine the exaggerated bruises on zir abdomen, the damn things swelling and looking like black holes in the way they radiate across zir belly. The worst one is under zir right arm, where ze hit the rail marker as ze fled the train. At least two ribs are fractured, but all in all... not so bad.

Ze catches a glimpse of zir face and winces at the yolk yellow eyes. Ze turns off the camera on zir phone and flops down backward onto the bed, kicking off zir shoes. Ze edges zirself back until zir head hits the pillows, then dives underneath them, letting out an anguished, feral cry into the muffling embrace. Ze reaches up and keeps at least one pillow on top of zir as ze rolls to the side and curls up in a fetal position, waves of pain, fear, nausea, and hopelessness playing out across zir visible torso until ze falls into a fitful sleep.

--

Rasa's body relaxes as soon as Ivan slides into bed beside zir. He runs his bare hand over zir hand, quietly pulling the pillow off zir head, placing it under his own. He pulls zir close, wrapping zir collection of elbows and knees, limbs and head to his chest, pressing a kiss to zir forehead. As he strokes zir back, zir legs relax and straighten, the unconscious one slipping ever closer to Ivan's warmth and calming attention. While ze sleeps, he sings in Russian a lullaby, choosing to whisper when the register peeks too high for his tenor.

creeping thoughts of tiny creatures wind through zir skin through zir veins and up to zir brain with familiar pace Consciousness returns slowly, buzzingofbeesas Ivan's mental and verbal lullabies mingle into one comforting drone.redirecting course changing flower sipping glorious sleep dances with their favorite fellows Rasa's thoughts begin to pull away from slumber and study the beautiful noise of zir partner's head. and ants that move the crumbs from last nights snacks into a basin that empties outside where the the rest of the colony picks it up and moves it underground storing it for the upcoming cold months Ze listens for a few moments, trying to weed out the bees and ants, mentally pushing aside their buzz, searching for the sound of his voice. moving snuggly bundles of larva cocoons from one branch to another making room for better drier ground for storing food Somewhere beneath all of it is the sound of his song, zir ears helping to map out the breadcrumbs to him. the spiders lazy ladies laying in webs slung in the corners of the room waiting for those daft males who are finally coming out of the literal woodwork Tili tili bom, tili tili bom repeats more than he sings. to do their little dances and mate with them providing these aging cougars a chance to reproduce before they drift off into forever sleep << tili tili bom, >> Ze responds, the dual resonance allowing zir a glimpse of the thoughts behind the song.

twitch twitch of the web means that a guy is coming to call while twang twitch is nightime snacks spinneretts wriggling in anticipation of trussing up one of those tasty little beasties their king brings home << hello, Rasa >> The wind is icy in his memories, biting into the sleeping chamber where he and his siblings are settled together for warm. gnats of all sizes mange and fleas tasty morsels of cockroach babies must eat every one or king's mother will panic again and unleash the toxic mess onto her floors that sickly sweet delicious mess that is so hard to ignore but causes death like the king says It is his first time in this bed, surrendering the crib to a younger sister, left to the tender mercies of his brothers. ants march on with their bits and bobs finding some sunflower seeds grateful to the king for providing even if it was not on purpose the delicious bounty will help produce strong ants in the future that will carry on through the ages as the messengers of the king His mother's voice sounds as soft as the winter wind, coaxing them all to sleep, warning them against staying away. look how they can spell out the words thank you without prompting now the brain food makes it so or is it the king brain they live in Ivan takes it as assurance, the fact that the dark person, coming to their home in the silence of the night, will be taking away one of his brothers for not sleeping. they will never know Rasa's nighttime visitor will always be Ivan, coming to find zir when ze can't sleep.

Skkkkttterrresssss the milipedes utter from inside their glass enclosures wrapping themselves up and down the walls eyeing the beautiful beasts that they cannot have the diverse offerings of cuisine the likes of which no other pede may see but shut out by the invisible wall As his thoughts begin to drift away again behind the droning colony, Rasa reaches out and wraps limb after limb after limb around his torso, trying to close the distance. why can't they have the tasty morsels that run free and only munch on the ones the master brings Hand over hand, limb over limb, the desperation multiplying zir arms. They should have all "you're... slipping away." ze whispers, aching. though the master is kind and unafraid and sssssssssso kind and has kept them alive longer than any pede is meant to live

Ivan rests his chin atop zir head. Look how the precious one sleeps the other half of the king who must be protected at all cost "I'm sorry. the finder of the food the one who sends the king to scoop us up and bring us into his heart and home or so the newer ones are told I could try harder, if you want? the older larger ones speak of a time before the rasa when the king found them on his own sent for them from far away You can try harder. they knew the value of the rasa as a supporter of the king, his heart, his warmth, his calm It's okay." they found zir in the quiet places and the bad places and the places of rot and brought him to zir He gave his permission to the many limbed being in his arms. they were the same these two the king and his king the self and the other self the hearer of our thoughts

"No," Rasa shakes zir head. "No, it's... not what I want." Ze let the background noise of zir person's thoughts turn into whitenoise behind zir eyes. "Maybe it's a good thing. Your brain is so much more organized now, and that's definitely a good. Plus, it's ... probably not healthy to share so much."

"Rashka," Ivan turns his gaze upwards, searching for the words. "{It is how we are intimate.}"

"{I know.}" Rasa collects zirself into a standard human and peels away just enough to study his expression. "{But it shouldn't be hard. It shouldn't be work. This is... just a dry patch. Maybe we just use words for a while.}"

"Very well. Words," Ivan agrees, reaching up to brush some hair away from zir eyes. "Just... you're so very lonely. I want to fix - you know? Always need to fix things."

"I know," Rasa nods. "Maybe for now, we just... sleep. Tomorrow, we can talk and talk until things are good again, okay?" Ze digs zir elbow into the mattress to shift further upward, pressing a kiss to Vanya's lips.

He holds the kiss until the need to breathe becomes a conscious thought. He inhales deeply when their lips part, resting his forehead against zirs. "For now, yes. We should sleep."