Through the night, Spirit had drawn closer to the warm body behind her. Subconsciously, of course. She had always been a bit of a cuddler. She used to slip into bed with her parents when she was young and would be scared by a nightmare, and she'd snuggle up to her father, feeling his warmth soothe her youthful troubled mind. When he'd be out of town, she'd sometimes cuddle with Runar, if she ever got scared enough. Being away from her father had made that more likely, because her mother was certainly an evil witch.
It was slowly and comfortably that Spirit drifted back into consciousness. She noted with a small, sleepy smile that this was perhaps the most well-rested she'd felt in years. She wondered if it had simply just been a good night, or maybe it was connected to the warm body behind her. She vaguely remembered that she was in Cyber's bed, and figured the body, and the arm on top of her, were likely belonging to the New Yorker. It wasn't a big deal. Spirit wasn't necessarily shy.
She let her eye open, finally willing to succumb to the day. After living a decade without her right eye, it would make sense that she would be, well, used to not having half of her vision. And yet, when she felt her eye open, and saw nothing because of how buried the left side of her face was into the pillow, she felt her heart speed up very quickly, and she jerked her head, letting out a breath of relief when she confirmed she could still see out of her left eye.
Her half-gaze rested upon the little alarm clock on Cyber's nightstand. 12:13. It took a minute for Spirit to process that that meant 12:13 pm. And she had work at 12:30.
The reaction was instantaneous. In spite of how comfortable she was, in spite of Cyber's body behind her and her soft brown arm around her, Spirit needed to get moving. Within the span of two seconds, she was on her feet and wide awake. She muttered a single Icelandic expletive, over and over again, and allowed herself the fleeting thought that her mother would probably smack her, beet-faced, if she heard it.
She stumbled across Cyber's room to the nearby window, angling so she could see her reflection in it and start smoothing down her hair. It had remained in its ponytail all of the night - she hadn't been intending to fall asleep. She also happened to see that Cyber had woken up, and her manners weren't completely forgotten.
"Hey," Spirit offered her the most reassuring smile she could muster in spite of her panic. "I've just got to go to work, alright?" She approached the bed again, leaning over to give Cyber a brief hug and even place a chaste, friendly kiss on the side of her head. "Thank you for talking with me last night," she told her earnestly as she straightened out her clothing, as well as the side of the bed she had left messy.
-
It had been a perfectly normal day. Rahma hated the routines, the way that days seemed to blend together, but at the same time, it was safe. And that was good. She was raising her children, alone, in a warzone. Safe was the only way they were going to survive, and being seven years in, she hadn't lost a child yet. That was more than her parents had accomplished by then, she remarked without feeling.
When the knock sounded through the whole house, that routine was gone. Lost. And Rahma's heart had sped up considerably. She stared in the direction of the door, feeling her heart pound against her ribs. They had knocked so hard, the door had splintered considerably. She placed Abia, who she had been rocking to sleep, on the old, worn couch as she debated what to do. She had only seconds before her door would break down. It wasn't long before her mind wasn't her own.
Open the door. They're out there. They're after you. Don't open it. It's locked. Locked. Open it. They want to steal your secrets. They've come to steal your secrets. They're going to burn your home down. Open the door. They're going to dissect you. You freak. They will tear you apart. Your secrets. Your children. Protect your secrets. Your children. They're going to steal you. Your secrets aren't safe. Don't open it. It's dangerous. Rule number one. Your secrets. Open the door.
The ever-present, ever-dominant rule number one was beginning to take control of her mind. Of course. How could she ever forget the most important lesson Izdihar had taught her? Trust no one.
Quickly picking Abia back up, Rahma headed into the room where the other children were playing. They balked when they saw the expression on their mother's face. Rahma quickly took the hand of Ahmir, her two year-old. "Bushes," she quietly whispered to Asahd and Adala. Their eyes wide but courageous, they nodded, heading into the old toybox and withdrawing their guns. She teleported down to the basement under the house that she had dug herself and then recovered so that her Ability was the only way to get to or from. She led Ahmir towards the chair she had made, and then placed Abia in the spare crib down there. "I'll be back," she promised emotionlessly and placed a kiss on Ahmir's forehead. "Stay quiet for me."
Then, she teleported back to the house, to her room, where she grabbed her favorite rifle from under her mattress. And then teleported to her favorite spot on the roof.
The man standing at her doorstep didn't look particularly malicious. But rule number 18 said that looks are deceiving, and she knew that he could very well have a bomb strapped to his chest. She pointed her rifle at him, on her belly on the edge of the roof, before revealing her advantage.
"You should probably leave before you end up with two rounds in your skull."
Britters
Level 72
The Eggstraordinaire
Joined: 8/25/2014
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Posted: 5/2/2019 at 7:51 PM
Post #472
Waking up in the same position she had fallen asleep in was a minor miracle for Cyber, and she was so deeply asleep that she had no idea that such a rarity was happening. The only thing she was really aware of, even through the shroud of slumber, was the warmness which seemed to have taken over her entire body, like an internal blanket. She had never really known such a feeling of comfort and security, but she was only interested in basking in it.
When Spirit got up out of the bed so suddenly, it took Cyber several moments to fully register anything. Her dreams, which had been undefined, mostly just colors and pleasant sensations like a visual symphony, did not fade instantly. She blinked her eyes through the fog of grogginess, struggling to wake up. It became far less difficult when, through the cloud of fatigue, she remembered exactly what had happened the night before. She remembered working late on the pop-up program, and most importantly she remembered Spirit.
"Yo, slow down," she said, squinting as she sat up and had to shield her eyes from the light coming in through the window, reaching out blindly for her glasses, "I can barely think yet, so jus'..." She trailed off as her hand fell upon her glassed and she shoved them onto her face.
Now that things weren't one big blur of colors, Cyber took a good look at Spirit before her friend bent down to embrace her. She decided not to dwell on how her heart sped up when the blonde woman's lips brushed the side of her head. It didn't take her long to make sense of the situation, and the guilt on her face was probably quite obvious, but there was no time to really focus on it. She just...honestly, she just wanted to pull Spirit back down onto the bed beside her and go back to sleep.
"Why not just take a day off?" she asked with as much polite curiosity as she could muster as she stretched her arms above her head, "Not like you couldn't use it..." In truth, she wasn't stupid enough to not know why Spirit worked so hard, but it still seemed unfair that she couldn't ever have a real break.
-----
When Jasper got back to headquarters, he was going to have some choice words for his supervisor. It wasn't that he didn't want to do his part, and he wanted to be a recruiter, but this was just ridiculous. There were about a hundred different things that could potentially kill him in this country, and that was probably a low estimate. He could think of at least ten on this street alone. Not to mention that he knew next to nothing about the woman he was supposed to be finding.
The file Jasper had read on his way here had been thin and the information within it had been vague. He knew her name, which was Rahma Amari, and that she had four children. There wasn't even any information on her ability, just that she was on a list Cyber had managed to hack from some Mantis computer network that had been labeled "People of Interest", which meant she needed to be collected as soon as possible. At the very least, she needed to know the danger she and her family were in, and he had to grudgingly admit that it was a noble mission.
Even if it meant that Jasper had to drag himself to this dusty hellhole...
"Hello?" he called out again, because he could hear what he thought might be movement inside the house, but it was hard to be sure, "Is anyone home?" He raised his hand to knock again, but before he had a chance to, he heard the woman's voice.
Upon hearing Rahma's words (and it had to be her, didn't it?), Jasper's face immediately turned up to where the voice had come from...and found himself staring down the targeting scope of a rifle. Oh yeah, Spirit was gonna heard about this, but right now this was still his mission. Despite the absolutely painful pounding happening in chest as his heart due to his heart being flooded with adrenaline, he managed to stand his ground as he gazed up at the woman threatening his life.
"Two rounds seems like a waste of ammo, doesn't it?" he said to her, his voice and ocean of calmness he didn't exactly feel, "You look more than capable of taking me out with just one. I'd appreciate it if you could avoid messing my face up though. I always figured I was the open casket funeral kind of guy." Humor had been his best defense since he'd been a teenager, and now...well, it was really his only defense.
Edited By Britters on 5/2/2019 at 11:25 PM.
Creativity
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Posted: 5/3/2019 at 12:45 AM
Post #473
One thing that Spirit was grateful for, she supposed, was that she had not been planning to go to sleep when she did, so waking up and needing to get ready was a little easier. Her familiar was waiting patiently beside the bed as she slept, but when she vaulted into action, he had known what she would need and immediately gone to fetch it. By the time Spirit was done checking her reflection in the window, she whipped around and found that Kraftaverk had returned with her beaten old tennis shoes and a pair of fresh socks.
"Good boy," she breathed, scratching behind his ears before bending down to pick up the socks. She sat back on Cyber's bed briefly so she could focus on getting them onto her feet, and then slipped into her shoes. When she looked back up, she found that Krafty had left and returned again, this time with her wallet and keys in his mouth.
Spirit gave a breathy laugh and took them from him, preparing to finally leave and get her butt to work. Except... She froze briefly when she heard Cyber's question. She stood and faced the girl, feeling an unexpected avalanche of emotions. How did Cyber always know what to say to set her off? How did the girl seem to know her better than she knew herself? 'Why not just take a day off?' If only the sweet New Yorker knew how much she wished she could... But then again, she probably did.
She feared her eye might've betrayed that longing, so she quickly blinked a few times in succession and gave a tiny shake of her head. "My boss would fire me if I did. I don't get days off. It's the only job I have, too. I-I'm not a citizen, you know... I applied years ago, when I decided to stay in America with the Resistance, but my application was denied because I was an - " she cut off, unable to say the word. Alcoholic. She wasn't ashamed. It was her past. She was a different person now. Besides, Cyber probably already knew, just from Teddy's big mouth. And yet, Spirit couldn't make the word form on her tongue. She felt heat flood her face and quickly looked away from the pretty brown-skinned girl. "A-anyway, I've got to go to work..." And with that, she ducked her head, trying to hide the uncertainty, and headed out.
-
The man was bold. Rahma had to give him that much. She was holding him at gunpoint, and unbeknownst to him, her two eldest children had snuck behind the wooden pillars on either side of him - which she had put in place for just that reason - and had their own weapons trained on him. Rahma tried not to feel too proud at the grin she spotted on Adala's face. Rule number three said that it was better to be given the opportunity to protect oneself than to be protected. She felt as if she had given her children a pretty solid opportunity. With luck, they might just fulfill decent lives.
But the man, down on her porch, he was bold. His sarcasm was clear as the sunlight. Personally, Rahma wouldn't think to counter a gun trained on her with something as provoking and offending as sarcasm. Some of the people round here, if you just look at them funny, would stick a bullet in your chest without a second thought. But maybe he wasn't bold, or stupid... Maybe he was exceptionally smart.
He has an advantage. Don't let him have an advantage. Keep your advantage. Hold steady. Shoot him. Double tap. He wants to take your secrets. You have to protect your secrets. Don't let him in. Don't let anyone in. Trust no one.
She let out a growl suddenly and clicked the hammer on her rifle down, feeling tears that she knows she will not shed burn behind her eyes. "You should take my advice!" she shouted at him. There was a crushing weight on her mind. She needed to take his advantage away. She whistled once, and both Asahd and Adala revealed themselves from behind their pillars, guns trained on the intruder.
"You either leave and crawl back to whatever hellhole They drew you out of, or I put two bullets in your skull, because it is always better to ensure your enemy is dead with a second bullet than risk it." She was staring at him through a tunnel-vision, the corners of her vision black and static-y, and she felt her heart speed up even more. "You want to take one of my options, because the people around here aren't as clean a shot as I am. They'll screw up your pretty face real bad, and you'll suffer before dying. I'll send my rounds right through your eye." The heat was bearing down on her, and the voices in her mind kept whispering, louder and louder. She needed to be louder. "The only reason none of them have shot you yet is because I'm here. So, Pretty Boy, make your decision." It was all too loud...
Edited By Creativity on 5/3/2019 at 12:45 AM.
Britters
Level 72
The Eggstraordinaire
Joined: 8/25/2014
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Posts: 2,041
Posted: 5/4/2019 at 1:02 AM
Post #474
The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, and the light that was streaming through Aura's apartment window was soft and comforting. It was evidence that a new day had begun, another chance for her to do better than she had yesterday. Today was a gift, one she wasn't sure she deserved, but she would take her Lord's blessing and she would try to feel like she had earned this second chance. She had a purpose in this life, and that was enough for now.
With a last reverent sigh, Aura opened her blue-green eyes and crossed herself before standing up from her spot on the floor. She began each day the same way she ended it, and that was in prayer. It was early, but Jude was a morning baby, and she had a full list of things to do today. Right on cue, she heard her son's first sounds of waking up, and she allowed herself a small smile as she walked over to the bassinet beside her bed. She still found him so beautiful, that every morning when she got her first good look at him he took her breath away.
"Good morning, angel," she said to him, reaching down and gently lifting him up to cradle him in her arms, "Are you ready to go brighten the day of other people?" Jude didn't answer, of course, but she pressed her cheek into his and brushed a kiss on top of his head anyway. He was the true gift.
Leaving the house with as a single parent with an infant was never an easy task, but Aura had gotten a good routine down since returning to Ireland, her home. Her diaper bag was always packed with fresh supplies before she went to sleep at night, and Jude was honestly a pretty easy going baby. He never spent very much time fussing, which was good. Today she was using her stroller because it was Wednesday, and that was the day she brought a large basket of biscuits to one of the local veterans shelters to go with their lunch.
Upon entering the shelter, Aura could feel the emotions of those around her putting pressure on her mental shields, but she was used to that by now. These men and women had been through some of the worst things imaginable, and yet those who were at the shelter had found little welcome and no assistance upon arriving home. She was greeted by a few regulars, as well as the staff, and when she pulled out the giant basket inside of the dining room, a cheer rose up from the crowd and she blushed.
Do better today than yesterday, that was the goal.
-----
Having a gun pointed at his head was definitely an experience Jasper wasn't used to, but he kept his cool. His arms hung loosely at his sides, and his body was free of tension. When the woman, who he assumed to be Rahma, whistled there was a moment of confusion on his part before the two children revealed themselves. He blanched slightly, but recovered quickly. This country was a warzone, and it wasn't as though he'd spent the last decade with his head in the sand. He knew that in places like this you either learned to defend yourself or you were as good as dead.
Just...seeing a picture of a very young children holding rifles on the internet was a lot different than seeing it in person. Perhaps especially if said children were aiming said rifles at your head...
The lack of information in Rahma's file was beginning to make a lot more sense to Jasper with each passing second. This woman was obviously not the type of person to let anyone get to know her at all. He had absolutely no idea about what could have happened in her life living in this environment, but the effect was obvious. She was a survivor, and she was clearly devoting herself to teacher her kids to be the same. He wasn't even sure there was anything he could say to her that would make her listen to him for even the next minute.
If he managed to survive this, Jasper was going to demand some vacation time...
"Okay," he finally said, very slowly holding his hands out slightly away from his body, trying to maintain his focus on Rahma, despite the presence of the two armed children, "Just hear me out." It was in that moment, and thankfully it really was a moment even though it always felt like longer to him, he was suddenly overcome with a vision, just a short glimpse into the future, but it was enough. "I believe you. I believe everything you've told me, but you and your family are in danger and I'm here to help." He left it at that, and waited.
Now, at least, Jasper actually did have an advantage, but he knew that didn't mean this was suddenly going to be easy. Not by a long shot...
Edited By Britters on 5/4/2019 at 4:52 AM.
Creativity
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Threads: 255
Posts: 5,902
Posted: 5/4/2019 at 10:36 AM
Post #475
I believe you.
No one said that to her. No one would ever say that to her. They called her all sorts of things around the neighborhood, 'crazy' being the least offensive perhaps. She wasn't really a person to take offense, but when you are constantly labeled with cruel words such as insane, beastly, wild, chaotic, paranoid, and, worst of all, a bad mother, it started to take a toll on your mentality a little. Not that there was anything wrong with her mentality.
Those who called her a bad mother were the most wrong of them all. She taught her children how to protect themselves because rule number four says that protection doesn't last. She could protect them all she wanted to, but when she eventually died, they'd be on their own in a world they didn't understand and didn't know. So, she taught them while keeping them safe. They could learn protection while not having to worry about needing it yet, so when they did need it, they could do it.
Rahma heard the whirring of distant jets. They're coming to take you away. They want your children. They're going to steal your secrets. Your jewels. They don't believe you. He believes you. He says there's danger. He is safe. Toxic. Safe.
Her hands clenching on her rifle, she fired a shot, but directed her barrel up at the last moment so it went into the sky. With a growl, she quickly teleported so she was not three feet from the strange man. Quickly, she reached for her children, and they put their weapons down. "Go to the playroom," she murmured to them emotionlessly, placing a kiss on each of their foreheads before nudging them back towards the house, seeing that the door wasn't really cracked but brushing it off.
She turned back towards the strange man, hands trembling as she took a step back and held the rifle back up at him. "Who are you?"
-
If there was one thing that was far too abundant, Mosi thought to himself as he glanced around at the many men and women surrounding him now in this shelter, it was war. He definitely believed that there was too much war, but sometimes, war was the only way to stop more war, and that was the catch-22 that he did not enjoy about this world and people in general. The bad people, that is. The good people were... good. The men and women around him, he thought, were mostly good people.
The idea of entering something as wretched, chaotic, and destructive as war was in order to defend something you cared about, something good... That was good. Mosi wished that, had he entered war in an alternate reality, it was under those conditions. But he was determined not to let his past, however controlling and degrading, influence his future. He was going to be his own person.
No one around here recognized him, and for that, he was actually grateful. No past. Just him. Here, with no labels or false words, no glimpses of the word carved onto his back to bring his past back. He could influence and meet these people how he saw fit.
He was sitting at a corner of the dining table, peeling an orange which he had bought with some of the tips from his singing and playing earlier that day. His soulful eyes stared around at everyone, including those serving them. He wouldn't take food, but he'd enjoy company. He glanced up at the cheers around the table, and noticed the woman he had helped a bit ago, carrying a basket of biscuits.
He also happened to notice the way she avoided direct contact with anyone as she passed the biscuits around. When she got to him, he smiled and held his hands up between them. "None for me, thank you," he told her, and then put his hands down and grabbed his orange, peeling it still but turning towards her. "How's the little one?" he asked. He was last in the lineup anyway, so no one's dinner was stalled - he had positioned himself that way to be, well, out of the way.
Edited By Creativity on 5/4/2019 at 4:50 PM.
Britters
Level 72
The Eggstraordinaire
Joined: 8/25/2014
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Posts: 2,041
Posted: 5/4/2019 at 6:39 PM
Post #476
If Jasper could read Rahma's mind, he would tell her that he could relate. For most of his life he'd had names follow him. Clown, daredevil, reckless, shameless, inconsiderate. He had always been the life of the party, but he had never let other people dictate the way that he chose to express himself. Sometimes his jokes had been crude and hurtful, and sometimes his thrill-seeking habits had put others in danger. It wasn't like he never knew what his actions would result in, but most people didn't know that.
Even though Jasper had seen the next few seconds into the future, the gunshot still startled him enough that he flinched and squeezed his eyes shut tightly behind his glasses. When he opened them again an instant later, he was unsurprised to see Rahma suddenly standing directly in front of him, though he did take a moment to acknowledge that at least he knew what her ability was now. He watched her reach out to her kids, watched them go back into the house...and then watched Rahma level her rifle at his face once more.
"My name is Jasper Green," he told her without any pretense, his hands still held out away from his body in what he hoped was the most non-threatening way he could manage, "I know who you are Rahma, and I knew what you could do before coming here." A small lie, but he'd known she could do something. "I'm not here to hurt you, but there are others out there who want to. I'm here to protect you and your family." Not normally a serious person, he tried to convey as much sincerity as he could with his voice and eyes.
That last part had been another lie of sorts. It wasn't actually Jasper's job to protect her or her children from danger. He knew that Spirit would disagree, but the leaders at the Resistance had made it very clear that unless recruits came willingly, recruiters were not to put their lives on the line unnecessarily. There were too few of them to be taking risks where they weren't needed. Of course, none of the other recruiters could do what he could do, and besides that he wasn't a jerk, despite what some people might think. If he had to protect Rahma or these children, then he would.
"Look," he said suddenly, "Its really, really hot out here and these clothes suck. Can we continue this inside?" He sent a mental apology to Butch, who was still in the truck, because it looked like the flamingo but have to stay put for a while. He wasn't sure how well a bright pink bird would go over right now...
-----
If there was one thing Aura was most grateful for, it was that she had managed to learn how to build strong mental shields. Her empathic abilities had a tendency to make being around other people incredibly unpleasant, and in some cases it was downright traumatic. People always had darkness inside of them, and sooner or later that darkness consumed them. For how long, and how badly depended on the person, but everyone was the same.
Even Aura had been overcome by her own darkness, but she had her God to pull her out of it, and despite feeling as though she no where near deserved a second chance, He had given her a wonderful gift to keep her on the right path.
"Biscuit?" she said automatically as she approached another table, the wicker basket that held the baked goods held in the crook of her left arm while she pushed Jude's stroller with the other, "Fresh baked and handmade." She wasn't even actually looking at the table's occupant, her focus was on the baby who had started to fuss a little bit.
That voice... she thought to herself, thinking of how familiar it sounded, and when she looked up her heart slammed inside of her chest and her blue-green eyes widened.
It was him, it was the man who had saved Aura and Jude from the muggers yesterday. No, that couldn't be possible, though even as she tried to convince herself of such a thing she knew how absurd it was. Of course it was possible, which she knew full well. This was obvious His way of telling her she had unfinished business with this man, and it didn't take her long to realize what it was. She had not really properly thanked this man for rescuing her and her baby from those dangerous men, and since he had possibly saved both of their lives that had been a terrible oversight on her part.
"Hm?" she said suddenly, shaking her head impolitely as she tried to clear her thoughts and slow her heart rate, "Oh, yes, he's just fine." There was still a sense of apprehension as she took in his appearance, her eyes finding all of the details she had missed yesterday. Those scars... "I'm glad to have run into you again. I'm afraid I was quite rude yesterday. What you did was very brave and...and you have my eternal gratitude." She reached a slightly trembling hand up to tuck a lock of reddish gold hair behind her ear.
At that point, though she would have happily walked quickly away again (he'd said he didn't want a bisuit), Jude decided it was a good time to test out his lungs, and she suddenly found herself instinctively setting down the basket before she pulled the squirming, screeching infant from his stroller to comfort him as she sat down at the man's table.
Edited By Britters on 5/4/2019 at 10:39 PM.
Creativity
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Posted: 5/5/2019 at 12:52 AM
Post #477
It wasn't easy, growing up in a warzone. Rahma had known that throughout the entirety of her life. She had had to learn to adapt, to figure out the rules of survival and follow them faithfully. It was those rules that she taught to her children, among other things. She wasn't simply going to be the type of mother who loved her children. She was determined to teach them love in return. They needed to be able to take care of themselves if they were ever going to understand how to live.
She swallowed hard, her eyes flashing dangerously at the man's - Jasper's - words at the end of his answer. I'm here to protect you and your family. It was as if flood warnings were going off in her mind, and she felt her heart skip a beat or two. "Rule number four," she practically spat at him, her eyes narrowing. "Protection doesn't last. We don't need protection. I don't hide what I can do. Kill me for it. Kill my children for it." Her voice remained as emotionless as normal, and besides the skeptical squint of her eyes, her face was blank.
In a moment of, well, sanity, she noticed the look in his eyes. He was sincere, and... He was scared. Fear doesn't do anything good. That was what rule number nineteen said. But Jasper was scared, but confident, as if he needed her to bend a little. He hadn't hurt her yet, but that also didn't mean he wasn't going to.
She heard his next question, and her heart skipped another beat in consideration. Rahma watched him for a moment. He certainly wasn't from around here... Maybe it was her motherly instincts, but she gave a small growl and put her rifle down, going to the front door and opening it. She glanced at him before heading inside, leaving the door open for him to follow.
Dutifully, once she reached the kitchen, she teleported down to her hidden cellar. Down there, Abia had started to wail, and Ahmir was desperately trying to calm her, rocking her cradle, but he was only two, and he really didn't know anything. "Umi!" he cried out upon seeing her, immediately running and hugging her legs.
She bent down and held his head for a moment. "Hush, dapdoop. Umi is here," she soothed him before lifting him up onto her hip with one arm. With the other, she lifted a screaming Abia from her cradle and gently shushed her, too. She was still crying by the time Rahma teleported the three of them back up to the kitchen, but once there, she was able to set Ahmir down and grab a bottle she had prepared earlier from the fridge.
"There is bread in the pantry," she told Jasper, her mood have shifted a little now that she was in the presence of her screaming baby. Crossing over to the dinky microwave she'd purchased from a travelling merchant, she opened the bottle and set it inside to heat the milk up for her child.
-
Mosi had learned a lot from his parents. In fact, he was fairly certain most of what he knew now was from them. He owed them everything. If it wasn't for them, he didn't know where he'd be right now. Definitely not in a good spot. They had taken him in when no one else had, when he had been so confused about everything and his entire past that he didn't really know how to deal with the love they were willing to give him. But they gave it to him anyway.
He wanted to give back to the world, in a way only he could. Now, how he was going to do that... He wasn't certain. But it was something he had to do. And it was something he'd have to figure out on his own, he thought. He didn't want to take charity. That's why he didn't take the biscuit, and why he didn't go to food distribution places.
He had had some troubles when he was younger, but he was going to stand on his own now. He had told his parents that he needed to branch out on his own. He needed to be his own person, to discover his own destiny in the world.
"I don't mind," he responded to the woman with a genuine smile, his hands finishing up peeling his orange. "There are good people, and there are bad people, and I try to be a good person. Those people were bad," he explained to her in simplicity.
When her child began crying, his smile turned more soft, soothing almost. He took his orange apart and offered half of it to the woman. "My parents always told me that childhood shouldn't hurt. That is something I have come to live by. I'm Mosi, by the way."
Edited By Creativity on 5/5/2019 at 1:16 AM.
Britters
Level 72
The Eggstraordinaire
Joined: 8/25/2014
Threads: 167
Posts: 2,041
Posted: 5/5/2019 at 10:22 PM
Post #478
Some might have felt that Jasper had made a blunder by mentioning protection to someone like Rahma, but it was just a calculated risk. Yes, protection might be a touchy subject for someone who has had to endure, but it was still something that was important to her. It could have been a bad move, could have backfired horribly, but he at least believed he knew what he was doing. He needed Rahma to see him as someone who understood her values if he was ever going to get her to talk to him.
If nothing else, Jasper's time at the Resistance had tempered some of his naturally flippant, jokester ways. He may use humor as a tool, but he took his job seriously, even if his colleagues remained skeptical. Let them think he was just the type of guy who wanted to lounge about and crack jokes all the time, because when push came to shove people needed to be able to laugh. They all had responsibilities, and in many cases lives were on the line. Stress caused mistakes, and laughter was the best medicine for stress.
Taking Rahma's venomous words in stride, Jasper waited patiently for her to make the next move. When she let him into the house he kept his face blank to hide the relief he felt. The house was simple inside, but he kept his eyes mostly trained on Rahma...at least until they got to the kitchen and she disappeared. That was definitely a handy ability to have, he had to admit. He waited for her to reappear, confident that she would and she didn't disappoint.
Kids...well, they made Jasper uncomfortable, and when Rahma reappeared it was with both the infant and a child who looked no older than two. She immediately began fixing a bottle for the baby, while the toddler...well, he was just sort of staring at him. Rahma's mentioning of the bread made little sense to Jasper since only moments ago she'd had a rifle trained on his face, so he certainly didn't expect any hospitality. Which seemed to only leave one option as far as what she wanted him to do...
"Oh," he said, walking over to the pantry and pulling the aforementioned bread out, "Sure thing." He grabbed a jar of peanut butter and started to make the toddler a sandwich.
-----
Avoiding contact with people was often a matter of survival for Aura. She had learned the hard way what could happen if she exposed herself to the evils of mankind. That man at the convent, his mind had been so full of darkness, and she had let it consume her. She was sure she was going to die in that alley back in the States, but by the grace of God she'd been saved, and she would not squander her second chance at life by making the same mistake again. Her shields were strong, she'd been taught by the best.
However, as Aura was quite painfully aware, her shields could never keep out everything. Her ability was far too powerful, but a little was better than too much. It usually just felt like a pressure inside of her head whenever she was around other people, and sometimes it increased enough to give her a migraine, though she would also still get sporadic flashes of specific emotions and vibes. That was when she suddenly realized something rather peculiar and out of the norm...
There was absolutely no pressure coming to her from the dark-skinned man at the table, Mosi he'd just said his name was, and before Aura could think better of herself, she frowned.
"Yes...," she said slowly, gently bouncing Jude in her arms as she looked at Mosi, "They were definitely bad." That was all she said for the moment, because she needed to focus on Jude she told herself.
The fact was, Aura had never come across anyone who had never given her that feeling of pressure, not that she could remember anyway. Comforting Jude was automatic, and he settled down fairly quickly. He was such a good baby, her greatest blessing. She smoothed her hand over his soft red curls, while she pondered her next move. Normally, once she was done delivering her biscuits she left the shelter, and she had already taken the Lord's opportunity to thank her rescuer. So why didn't she feel like leaving yet?
"Its a pleasure to meet you, Mosi," she said to him, hesitating (though not for long) before holding out her hand to him, "I'm Imelda, and this is Jude." She indicated the baby in her arms, whom she had now sat on her knee while she supported him around the middle with both of her hands. He was almost a year old now, and had excellent control of his neck muscles so he was looking all around the dining hall.
Edited By Britters on 5/5/2019 at 11:27 PM.
Creativity
Level 72
Cutely Creative
Joined: 3/4/2013
Threads: 255
Posts: 5,902
Posted: 5/6/2019 at 4:58 PM
Post #479
It had taken her whole life to discover all of her rules. Rahma had never stopped learning, never stopped observing. She never stopped investigating others' mistakes so she would know how to avoid them. Even today, she would admit that her list of rules was not complete. It was not something completable, for survival was something that was ever-shifting, ever-changing. The situations of survival were never at a standstill, so one could not simply stop learning how to survive. If she were to do that, then surely, she'd be dead. And she didn't rather fancy death.
She glanced at Jasper as he began forming a sandwich. "You can explain yourself. Why are you here, really, and what do you want from me?"
Abia's bottle had not been in the microwave long, only about ten seconds to make it warm enough for her to be able to digest it properly. Rahma took it out once it was done, but was temporarily distracted by a familiar voice in her head. This one was clearer, more distinct than the others, and one she knew very well. He's making that sandwich for me. Rahma stopped and looked at Ahmir, whose deep, soulful eyes had turned to her. He had a hint of a smile on his youthful face.
"Not for him," she told Jasper with a touch of irritation. "I meant for you. In case you were hungry. Ahmir cant eat that. Besides, he already ate lunch." Jasper was definitely strange. He had an odd accent, one that she couldnt place, but she didn't really want to bother to do so anyway. She didn't quite like him in her home, but she had children to take care of. She was a mother first.
As she moved to screw the top onto Abia's bottle, she noticed a swirling within. The milk slowly became corrupt, dark purple and vomit-green tendrils swirling through it until the substance popped and began to bubble furiously. With a small hiss, Rahma screwed the top on and the vaulted the entire bottle out through a far window. The window had been shattered before by the very same action, and had a rather large hole in it because of that.
Swallowing once, Rahma emotionlessly turned back to the fridge and took another prepared bottle out, moving like clockwork to heat this one up. Abia had calmed down some, but she was still fussing, and Rahma gently bounced to try to soothe her more as she prepared a better, non-corrupt meal.
Britters
Level 72
The Eggstraordinaire
Joined: 8/25/2014
Threads: 167
Posts: 2,041
Posted: 5/7/2019 at 12:28 AM
Post #480
To say that this whole situation was surreal for Jasper would have been an understatement. He didn't consider himself much of a domestic type of guy, instead seeing himself more as the rugged, adventurous kind. Therefore, standing in a kitchen and spreading peanut butter on two slices of bread with the intention of passing it off to the toddler. It occurred to him that he wasn't even sure that the kid liked peanut butter...but didn't all kids like peanut butter?
In all honesty, Jasper was a bit relieved when Rahma snapped at him about the sandwich not being for the child. Apparently she had in fact meant for him to make himself some food. He glanced over at the toddler, as though he meant to see if he was alright with not receiving the sandwich, but he realized upon glancing at the boy's soft smile that that was absurd. It wasn't as though the kid knew how to talk very much anyway, most likely. One thing did niggle at the back of his mind though...
What could Rahma have meant by saying the child couldn't eat it? Maybe he was allergic to peanuts...that was a thing wasn't it?
"Right," he said, taking a sizable bite out of the sandwich and chewing for a moment before responding to Rahma's question, "So first of all, I really am here to protect you, whether you want to accept that or not. I knew about your ability before today, and so do others. The difference is that there are people out there that would abduct you and your..." He paused for a moment...eyes wide and blinking rapidly.
When the bottle went flying out the window, a window with a very defined hole in the middle of it likely caused by similar use before, Jasper wasn't sure whether he should say anything about it or not. It as alarming certainly, but then again...most of the things he did in his life could be considered alarming by most standards. He may not do things like throw objects through a window at random and for no obvious reason but...who was he to judge."
"That would abduct you and your family," he finished, swallowing his bite of sandwich, "The people I represent want to make sure that doesn't happen, but for that to happen you need to come to our headquarters building. You and your children will be safe there." He paused again and then did a quick rephrasing. "You'll be able to protect them better from there. The people who would attack you have technology and people with abilities on their side. You're not going to be able to stay safe here much longer."
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