Snagglepuss89
Dezuel
Izurich
AlteredTundra
stone
Little BillBack to School pt. 2
๐๐๐ธโ๐๐โ ๐ผ๐๐ค๐ฅ
October 12
Ernest | Callan
๐๐ ๐: ๐๐๐ฅ. ๐๐, ๐๐๐๐ / / ๐๐๐ธโ๐๐โ ๐ผ๐๐ค๐ฅ / / ๐น๐ฆ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐น: โ๐ ๐ ๐ ๐๐๐ / / ๐๐๐๐
Collab with @Baklava
Callan had never had any reason before to visit the Aberration dorms before. No, she had to correct herself. That wasn't what they were called... but who was going to judge what she thought inside her head? Callan was too exhausted to care about that anyway. Not that she had any regrets about staying up with Marcus, but her hefty three hours of sleep hadn't awarded her with much common sense, either. She made it all the way to the third floor before realizing that she had no idea which one was Ernie's.
Callan clumsily pulled her phone out of her pocket and began searching for his name. Pretty easy to do since she only had a whopping six of them saved.
Before she tapped the screen again, however, a familiar sound caught her attention. Someone was running a vacuum somewhere. And it sounded pretty close. Roaming the halls a little further, she found the room in question. The terribly loud VRRMMM of a vacuum accompanied by... Callan leaned in closer. Was Ernie singing?
'Put On A Happy Face'. She'd heard that in a children's show once. His voice... wasn't great. But she'd heard worse. Ernie at least seemed to be enjoying himself. Callan smiled, covering her mouth to resist a small giggle before quietly clearing her throat. She'd almost completely forgotten why she was here. Standing up straight again, Callan tucked her bangs behind her ears, did her best to straighten her wrinkled shirt, and knocked.
A click as the vacuum was shut off. The machine was shoved into the closet, shut away with a heavy duty lock. Ernie wasn't expecting guests, which most likely meant that those Aberration hallmates of his had finally figured out how they were gonna get back at him. But the revenge plot would be useless if they couldn't destroy the source, hence the lock.
Ernie rolled his shoulders and took a breath to prepare for the worst. One fist was curled as he whipped the door open, though it slackened quickly once he saw who the visitor was.
"Cal? I thought you were gonna text."
Callan jumped, not expecting it to open so quickly. She blinked in surprise for a moment before answering.
"Oh yeah... you asked me to do that," she smiled apologetically. She looked about as tired as she felt. Her hair didn't seem as carefully brushed, there were clear bags under her eyes, and her movements seemed a bit sluggish.
"Sorry, I totally forgot. Been kinda busy this week...." Callan glanced past Ernie, into his room. "Are you busy? I can come back later, but... I just really needed to talk to you."
"Uhhh," he looked back into his room, "no, I guess not. Come in if you want. Sorry for the mess."
On the meticulously ironed and spread blanket was a pile of folded socks. Apart from some slightly askew papers on his desk, there didn't seem to be anything else out of place.
"That's oka...y...." Stepping inside, Callan gawked at how clean everything was. Not even the type of clean that made it look like nobody lived there, either. It was the type of clean that only got that clean when people cleaned it. Really cleaned it. Callan was too tired for tact. "I think this looks too clean for it be called a mess," she laughed, approaching his bed.
She immediately made a mental note not to sit on it. "Do you iron your bed?"
"It's rude for a man to leave his laundry out. And I iron the sheets, if that's what you mean," he grinned, not too bothered by her comment, "I got this fabric steamer from Costco the other day though. Can't wait to try it out."
The boy hurried over to the papers to straighten them out, bumping the computer chair out of the way with his leg. "So what did you need?"
"Dang, you really are passionate about cleaning," she mused out loud. Callan stepped towards the computer chair, but immediately thought better of it. She might fall asleep if she got too comfortable and she didn't want to inconvenience her friend anymore than she already felt she was. Maybe it was just her imagination, but the sort of vibe she got from Ernie's bedroom was not to touch anything.
Callan's expression grew more serious when he posed his question. She watched him straighten the papers on his desk for a moment before answering.
"Information," she admitted, "Or maybe just advice... I don't want to go into too much detail here but... basically I'm worried about Marcus."
She ran her fingers through her bangs, nervously remembering that Ernie was the only one that knew about her feelings for him.
"I know D.C. was hard on everyone, but do you know if anything happened? To him specifically? Or maybe it happened at the estate...? I don't know. He just seems kind of off lately...."
"Huh," Ernie tried not to smile at Cal's ever-obvious feelings. Some things never changed, even after weeks of absence. He continued sorting his desk as he explained, speaking casually. Not like getting worked up over it had solved anything. Marcus was getting close to a lost cause.
"I thought he was fine when we hung out on the island. Dunno. I guess--"
Wait.
Ernie blinked, putting the pieces together. She was unconscious, unable to hear what was happening over the cuffs. And if she hadn't talked to anyone during their stay at the mansion...
The Aberration took a breath. "What do you mean, 'if anything happened'?"
Callan stared for another moment, perplexed by the question. "Sorry," she sighed, "I should probably just talk to Marcus about this, but... I don't want to be annoying or make him more upset or something, you know?" She almost forgot about where she was for a moment and sat on the bed behind her. Instead she shifted her weight to her other leg and crossed her arms tightly.
"I know we all wish we could have done more. That feeling was pretty bad all by itself... and a big part of the reason why I...," she smiled somberly, "I mean I guess it's a good thing I didn't get featured on the news after what happened, but I wish I could've been there. No telling how many people I might've been able to pull out of that building...." She bitterly thought of Hazel. Callan didn't want to blame her, but... it was a little hard not to sometimes.
She swallowed, averting her eyes. Even with all the encouragement from Marcus, it still bothered her. She assumed it always would.
"Anyway, I didn't get a chance to be so close to aftermath, is all I'm trying to say. So... maybe he saw something really bad during the rescues? That's just my theory anyway."
It took far too much effort not to groan out loud. Dammit, this girl. Ernie placed his hands on his desk, leaning so he didn't need to look her in the eye.
"It...wasn't the rescues, it was what happened before. Did no one tell you what they did?"
"What they did...?" Callan repeated the words, suddenly unsure. Ernie didn't seem to be alluding to anything good. She simply waited, digging her fingers into her arms. That's right... Kusari had mentioned killing people to protect Sophia....
A few seconds of silence. He needed to explain carefully. It was going to be a lot to take in.
"After we split up, Cat's Cradle showed up. Then everything went to hell. A mob started attacking the evac team and..." It was hard to contain his anger. Ernie's voice took on a more callous tone. "Well, they didn't handle it smartly. A lot of people died, murdered by our classmates. I didn't have time to count them all but...there were," he breathed, "a lot."
He turned to face Callan, his eyes only briefly narrowing when he saw her on the bed.
"And among the dead was a man who was shot in the head."
Was this wrong? Talking about a friend like this behind his back? Irreversibly fracturing something in Marcus and Cal's relationship?
She would have found out at some point.
He said he wasn't even sorry.
"Marcus fired straight into that man's head. Didn't even try to aim anywhere else."
From bad to worse.
It had to be a joke.... a really bad joke. More than anything, she wanted it to be. But it made too much sense, didn't it? The heroes messed up. So they made sure none of the footage got loose and took them away to a secluded island. Far away from prying eyes. Far away from nosy reporters. Far away from exposing the truth.
This was bad. So bad. How could she not have known? The more she thought about it, the worse it got. She could feel Misery impatiently waiting on her. This was a nightmare. She shouldn't of come here. Shouldn't have asked so many questions.
Callen hadn't even realized she sat down. She stared at Ernie in disbelief.
She took a deep breath, "Why?" There had to be a rational way to look at this. She wasn't there. She didn't see.
Ernie looked at her, a sad smile on his face.
"The Reg was hurting Emma."
Callan opened her mouth, but abruptly closed it. That made sense, too.
Marcus would do whatever was necessary to stop someone from hurting Emma....
Heroes find another way.
She believed that when Kusari said it. When she mentioned protecting Sophia. But now.... How many people would she kill if it were Marcus?
Suddenly her head was pounding. Too tired for this... too much to think about.... She leaned forward on the bed and buried her face in her hands.
If she'd been there, he wouldn't have had to make that choice. Nobody should have to make that choice.
"Who else?"
Ernie gulped, thinking of Siena. "Do you have to know?"
Silence.
"No, I guess not... but..."
She lowered her hands and looked at him. "Were you there?"
He shook his head.
"I only heard the commotion over the cuffs. Went to the location sometime later to see what happened and...put the pieces together from that."
She sat up, the corner of her mouth twitching into half of a helpless grin, "So how can you be so sure Marcus shot someone?"
A strange irritation made his expression turn to a scowl. He had zero reason to mislead her. "I asked him myself, on the island. He didn't deny it. 'Diplomacy wasn't stopping anything, Ernie. Force did.' " Ernie spat out a cheap impression of the scarred Arbiter. "Fucker didn't even--never mind."
Callan bristled defensively, her face flushing. "Well, what would you have done?" Her voice was irritable. Accusing.
"The fuck's that supposed to mean?" Ernie scoffed right back, momentarily forgetting who he was talking to.
She didn't realize how angry she'd sounded until her own tone was thrown back at her. Callan blinked in surprise for a moment before looking away, tightly gripping the edge of the bed.
"Ernie," she sighed, her voice softened, breaking, "What would you do?"
The question made Ernie flinch. He knew what he would've done, what he had done.
You don't even remember that guy's face, do you?
"If someone I cared about was getting beat in front of me...yeah, I'd be so angry I wouldn't be able to see straight. And sure, if there was a gun in my hand, if there was such a convenient solution to it all..."
Shame rushed through him. He didn't dare finish that sentence because he knew he would've been able to control himself even less.
"Marcus might be a good guy but he didn't murder someone in cold blood because it was his only option. He did it because he was upset. But even if I would've done the exact same thing, even if a hundred people would have fired into that guy's head, that doesn't make what happened a single bit less wrong."
She went quiet again, though the storm in her head kept raging. There was nothing to grasp onto. Nowhere to go. This was her new reality. These people. These choices. Ernie's answer was a frightening mirror of what she thought she might do, too. Hell, it was part of what had made her so careless in Wisford. A life for a life. Thinking too much about Marcus and not enough about Sav. Not weighing them all out equally like she should. It wasn't what she wanted, but it was reality.
And why was she so willing to forgive Marcus, but still condemning Kusari? Still wondering about what everyone else had done? Grasping around blindly for a justification?
Before she knew it, she was quietly crying. Callan covered her face again, staring into the dark creases of her hands.
"I should've been there," she muttered, finally, "I could've...."
"No. No, not at all. Neither of those. You were protecting the city, like we should have. You were fighting alongside a Precursor."
Hastily, he snatched the tissue box from his desk and left it beside Callan on the bed. Crying people weren't in his expertise but tissues...helped, right? He knelt in front of her, a pained look on his face.
"You can't take responsibility for other people's mistakes. This was a choice they made. They--we all have to live with that."
"I know," her voice shook, "I know, but.... I want to help. I could've helped. If Hazel hadn't taken me out of the goddamned fight--" She had to pause to breathe, sucking air between her teeth. Ernie's voice was closer now. But her head was still pounding.
"Nobody should be forced to make that choice. If it were me... if I ever had to choose between Marcus or Emma or you or anyone here..." she grimaced, struggling to hold back a sob. She felt so small. Selfish. Confused. "I need you guys."
Ernie didn't react to the mention of Hazel. That was a different topic entirely. Instead, he took her hand and pressed a tissue into it for her to use. His hand remained by the girl's for a bit before he rested it on her shoulder.
"I know you want to help," he said quietly, "That's the best part about you."
He had no answers for the rest. No promises. D.C. was only an indicator of what was to come. There were plenty of worse things they could face, the Amigos were just the start. The choices would keep coming and coming until the member count of this blasted team came down to zero. But geez. Seeing a friend look so miserable made him feel like garbage. Made him want to make reckless promises. Made him believe he had the determination to keep them too.
"You won't lose us. Not physically, not...to the mistakes we make. We're gonna get through this together."
Callan gratefully accepted the tissue, wiping at her nose while she used the back of her hand to clear her cheeks. She flashed him a weak smile, "Yeah... assuming I don't get anyone else killed."
Clearly unsatisfied with her own efforts, Ernie snatched a tissue himself and wiped at her tear-streaked cheeks with a light grimace.
"Dude, stop thinking like that. D.C. was a mess for everyone."
"Heh," Callan flinched away in surprise, blushing at his odd show of concern.
"I'm not talking about D.C.," she clarified, trying to speed up the process by using the edge of her sleeve, "I'm talking about Wisford."
"...What do you mean?" he asked tentatively. He took one of her hands, the one she'd wiped with earlier, and cleared the residual moisture. The sleeves would just...have to be endured.
"With..." It was getting a little harder to concentrate-- and not just because she was tired. Callan didn't remember being quite this close to Ernie before, but... it was fine. She let him maneuver her hand however he pleased and continued, "With Savannah. I forgot, you didn't see what happened...."
She wasn't sure if she wanted to talk about it again after all this time, but... she didn't mind talking to Ernie about it. She was, however, quickly beginning to feel that she'd unloaded enough of her problems onto him. It shouldn't be his job to clean her up whenever she became a mess like this. "When that gargoyle abe grabbed Sav, I tried to get her away, but I..." she forced her voice to be more steady, "I got her killed instead. It was my fault she died back there."
Ernie didn't know any gargoyle Aberration. He didn't know anything about that fight, except that it happened by the APC straight after he and Zoe had asked them to pick up David. And while it felt useless to assign blame weeks after that nightmare of a mission, he knew that it was plain irresponsible to not acknowledge the part he potentially played in the deaths and injuries that took place.
All the more reason to keep his filthy mouth shut. Cal, especially her, would never find out. Not about David, not about the man he'd shot in his panic. No one would.
The boy looked conflicted as he pried Callan's hand open, taking the used tissue with his own and tossing them both into the wastebin by his desk. After that, he slumped into his computer chair with a sigh.
"Callan," he started, unsure of how to go on between his own guilt and this particular topic. This seemed like something he was supposed to keep between people more like himself and Zoe, "That was a Cat 3 mission. And on top of that, we got attacked by...really bad guys. Trust me when I say 'really bad'. Honestly, it's a fucking miracle we lost only one. I don't know how you can blame yourself."
Callan smiled. That sounded familiar.
"Yeah... right," she scoffed. She didn't expect Ernie to understand, "I'm glad you weren't in the middle of that mess, but... if you'd seen what I did, you might think a little differently." She thought of Brent and shook her head. Wasn't going to cry about it anymore. "It's in the past. Nothing's gonna change it. But if I did ever get the chance to go back... I think I could have made sure we all made it." She looked down at her hands, running her fingers over where Ernie had wiped up the tears.
"Yeah, there's...no point on dwelling on the past if we don't learn from it."
His hands fidgeted idly now that there was nothing to do. Or not. He stood up to pick up the pile of socks still on the bed.
"Failure is the best teacher, or something like that, right? Our track record might not be improving with every mission but," he paused. Everything was still so unclear, except for one thing, "this whole class is getting stronger with every passing day at, like, a scary rate. I know that if we did that mission at where we are now, those rogues wouldn't stand a chance. But we can only prepare for the future now. Stop what happened to Sav from happening to anyone else."
"That's right," she sighed, leaning back on her elbows. Callan stared up at the ceiling while Ernie dealt with his socks, thinking. "Just gotta keep moving forward...."
It didn't seem like he'd convinced her. That was...fine. No big. Yep. There was way too much other stuff on his mind now, thanks to that particular can of worms getting cracked open again. Ernie took his time with each pair, fitting them into a space-efficient arrangement in his closet.
"Actually, there's something I've been meaning to ask," he attempted a topic change, "how did--well, are-- how are you dealing with all this? That move from being just a high school kid to being on the front lines for all those scary missions?"
"Hmm," she had to think about that one. Already knowing how she felt, the words were what seemed hard to find. Distracted and with the socks out of the way, Callan unthinkingly pushed her shoes off her feet and laid down. (Man, were the beds at USARILN always this soft??)
"I think it might be because of my power, but I..." she stifled a yawn, "I'm fine. I don't mind fighting. I'm not saying I don't ever get scared... or miss my old life... or have doubts. But... I think I can do this. It just feels... right...."
"But you get so hurt all the time," he pushed more. He hadn't looked up from his sock drawer yet. "And you say it 'feels right?' "
Callan giggled, resting her eyes. Just for a second, she told herself, "I know, it sounds nuts." She was going to elaborate, but drowsiness was hitting her hard for the umpteenth that morning. "It's okay," she mumbled, making even less sense.
"It doesn't sound nuts if there's nothing to sound," Ernie chuckled, hoping she'd say more. But he was returned with nothing but the sound of light breathing. Worried, he stuck his head out of the closet, only to sigh when he saw a passed out Callan. On his freshly-made bed too. Geez, maybe they should have had this chat by the couches.
A small shake of the shoulder achieved nothing. A bigger shake did the same. Ernie pinched the bridge of his nose, unsure if he should be irritated or amused. She couldn't stay here forever, he was a busy guy. Having someone in his room without his supervision was out of the question. Urgh. Alright, nothing he hadn't done before.
Sorry, bud.
The students here didn't keep their important possessions smartly. That was one thing he'd noticed from the start. It was the kind of stuff that made for easy break-ins, whether it was a for a surprise visit or...something less friendly. With his index finger, he reached over and tapped on the outside of the girl's pants pockets, listening for the tell-tale click of a plastic card.
No dice.
Same for her hoodie pocket. Fuck.
At this point, Ernie was wearing an immature pout, like a six-year-old talking about cooties. He rolled his eyes as the rope came into being, flipping the girl onto her front and...for fuck's sake. He apologised profusely as he reached into her back pocket, looking the card's details over once he successfully eased it out. Huh, she was older than him? A quick glance at the girl didn't clarify anything.
...Whatever. They could go now.
Ernest | Marcus
๐๐ ๐: ๐๐๐ฅ. ๐๐, ๐๐๐๐ / / ๐๐๐ธโ๐๐โ ๐ผ๐๐ค๐ฅ / / ๐น๐ฆ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ธ: ๐๐ฆ๐๐ฅ๐ ๐๐๐ / / ๐๐๐๐
Collab with @Chasers115
A few minutes later, the Aberration was outside Suite 430. Like a stork delivering a baby, the rope floated in the air behind him, holding on tight to a blanket, its shapely load conspicuously hidden by the impromptu blanket sack. Ernie let himself in with a yawn.
Marcus was sitting on the couch, idly flipping through the channels on another boring day. Callan was off somewhere, Siena and the dog were both gone, so he had the Suite completely to himself. And he had done absolutely nothing all day. At one point he'd attempted to take a nap, but it hadn't exactly worked out for him, despite the lack of sleep he'd gotten the night before. When that hadn't worked, he'd ended up looking through some of the options on Netflix, which Callan had been kind enough to leave on. He didn't expect to hear someone outside so early, and he craned his neck to look at the door when it opened, trying to see which roommate it was coming back.
"Ernie?" he asked in surprise, more than a little shocked to see him walking in through their door.
"Marc," Ernie nodded back politely. He moved straight to Cal's side of the room, somehow restraining himself from letting out an audible groan as the suite revealed its pigsty glory to him once again. It had barely been a week, for crying out loud. After clearing the stuff on her bed, he placed the owner down. The rope pulled the blanket over her before it was finally time to get to work.
"How do you live like this? Honestly," he said, bending down to pick up wrinkled clothes and discarded wrappers alike.
Marcus ignored the question, focusing instead on the thing floating behind Ernie. The very large and heavy looking object, hidden by an equally large blanket. He followed Ernie cautiously as he walked through their suite, more than a few questions roaming through his head. The most important one came to the front when he lifted one part of the sheet to see the aquamarine hair underneath.
"I-is...is that Callan in there?" he asked, followed by a slightly more urgent "Is she alright?"
"Yeah, she fell asleep in my freaking room. You gotta tell her to lay off those Netflix binges. Looked tired as hell when she showed up," Ernie trashed the first round of wrappers before bending down again.
Marcus let out a soft sigh. Asleep. That was fine. Certainly better than any other option. "Yeah, that's partly my fault. We had...a movie night in the Suite last night." Technically, that was the truth, but there were more than a few details he was leaving out.
"She's just completely passed out?" Marcus asked, more out of a sense of curiosity than anything else. He'd seen her...well, heard her fall asleep on metal bleachers, but this was something else. She really could sleep through anything.
"You can just...leave her on her bed, I guess." he added, grinning and shaking his head.
"Wow, mad invite," he joked, "But yeah, she's completely out cold. Like a Grizzly in Winter, they'd say."
Clothing got tossed into the laundry basket. Ernie peeked under the bed in search of more to do, inhaling a sharp gasp when he spotted the sheer layer of used energy drink cans beneath the girl.
"Holy shit, that can't be healthy," he exclaimed.
Marcus made a small hum of curiosity, dropping the section of blanket back over Callan's head and bending down to peek at what Ernie had apparently found. He let out a low whistle of amazement, before speaking aloud; "Do you think her power helps against caffeine poisoning too? And how does a person sleep with that much in their system?" Marcus asked, sounding legitimately impressed.
"I sure fucking hope it does," Ernie grimaced, not-so-fun memories returning, "That shit gives you heart attacks. And toilet troubles. It's a wonder she can sleep at all."
More frowning as he estimated the sheer volume of cans to clear up.
"Do you guys have a broom? Or maybe a rake would work better here..."
Man, Marcus really didn't need to think about Callan's resistance to toilet troubles at this moment in time.
"I doubt we have either of those. Do you want me to see if I can find a large shovel or something?" he asked, taking another look at the unconcious lump snoring away on the bed.
"What was she doing in your room anyway, did she walk in and just pass out immediately?"
Ernie blinked. Paused. Then the rope maneuvered under the bed, sweeping out all the cans with a large motion.
"Nah, she wanted to hang out." The lie leaving his mouth easily. "Not that I blame her for falling asleep."
He held a corner of the delivery blanket for Marcus to feel. "Check it, dude."
Marcus gave Ernie a quizzical look, slowly reaching out to touch the blanket, and he was pleasantly surprised with the result.
"Oooh," he cooed, "That's niiiiice. Where did you get this?"
"Eh, just went to the usual Bed, Bath & Beyond," Ernie grinned, clearly very pleased with the praise, "It's the fabric softener that's the important part though. Took me ages to find the right combo."
"Wait, you have a perfect cocktail of fabric softener you use?" Marcus said, wowed by the sheer level of micromanagement Ernie apparently put into his laundry duties. "I'm definitely calling you next time I do laundry."
"Business hours only, buddy. My services are always available. The Best in the West."
Ernie took an armful of cans to take to the bin, only to realise that it was already near full. "Oh, come on..."
"Business? Surely you can make an exception for your bestest buddy Marcus, right?" Marcus asked, fluttering his eyelashes and attempting to give Ernie his most innocent look. A look the quickly turned to a grimace as he heard Ernie grumbling from the trash can.
"Maybe a special discount at the most. Maybe," Ernie scoffed at the puppy eyes, "if you help me with sanitising your freaking dorm first."
And that's how the rest of the morning passed for the two boys. Partly a back-and-forth between the two dorm buildings to fetch supplies from Ernie's room, partly some visits to the dumpster behind the cafeteria. Honestly, it was a pretty fun time for Ernie. Hanging out with a friend, having a whole room to busy himself with, scolding Marcus for being such a slob when he had two female roommates to consider; an all around good day for the neat freak Aberration. Only when the whole suite was finally tidied up did Ernie flop himself onto the 430 couch.
"Alright," Ernie breathed tiredly, "now we can talk discounts."
"God. That was something." Marcus said. Maybe it was just the lack of sleep, but the incredible amount of cleaning they did had taken a little bit of a toll on him. Hell, they cleaned places that he wouldn't have even thought of. He certainly didn't think that it was possible to work up a sweat while cleaning.
"How do you live like this?"
"A lotta practice makes a lotta perfect," Ernie shrugged, "Once you get in a routine, you'll be surprised at how easy it gets."
"Yeah...no offense...but I don't think I'm going to practice this very often." Marcus said, grinning slightly. "But hey, if I feel like doing it again, I'll ask Callan to go fall asleep at your place!"
The Aberration groaned. "Please don't. I think she drooled on my sheets."
However, the mention of the supergirl reminded Ernie of something he needed to say. Something important.
"She absolutely drooled on your sheets." Marcus laughed.
Ernie joke-grimaced some more before grinning along. "Right. Guess I should go take care of that then. If you're serious about the laundry then just text me whenever."
"Oh I'm super serious. My clothes are gonna be the fluffiest they've ever been!"
"Heh, yeah, you'll have the nicest clothes on the block. Right after me, of course. See ya."
Ernie moved to leave but as he crossed the threshold, he hesitated. He looked back over his shoulder, his smile light but his tone anything but.
"Marcus. You remember my promise on the island, right? What I would do if you fucked up again?"
Marcus cocked his eyebrow in confusion. This seemed like it was coming out of nowhere; and after the morning they'd just spent getting the room all tidy...it was a fair statement to say that he was a little caught off guard by the sudden shift. He didn't say anything for a moment, as he tried to figure out if Ernie was making a poor excuse for a joke, his friendly demeanor starting to sour a little as he realized this was no joke.
"I think I remember the gist of it, yeah." he said, keeping his eyes on the Aberration. Was this a challenge? Was this the moment? His mind started to think of escape routes as he warily eyed Ernie. Like an animal who had just spotted a predator.
"Good. Because I haven't forgotten either. I meant it." Ernie turned to face Marcus properly, though he didn't move from the door. "I just thought I should remind you cos your actions affect more people than you'd think."
Marcus still eyed Ernie, carefully listening to him talk. This was all stuff they'd been over already, and he didn't quite understand why Ernie was bringing it up now, of all times. His eyes darted around cautiously, waiting for the other shoe to drop. When it didn't, he was more confused than anything.
"O...kay?" he finally said, still on edge.
"Okay."
Ernie didn't move. Because he had a point to make, right? If he left now wouldn't that sorta...lessen the impact?
Also why was he getting the feeling that Marcus wasn't absorbing everything he was saying?
"Okay," he said again, when he realised that he'd been standing there in silence a bit too long.
Marcus's eyes darted back and forth again. Why was he just standing there, all menacingly? Was this a joke? How was he supposed to react? Should he just kick Ernie out of his Suite now? Did it lessen the impact of kicking someone out if they were already leaving?
"...okay?" He repeated, more confused than ever.
"Okay."
More momentary silence.
God, why didn't he just leave before? He considered telling Marcus what he and Cal really discussed but...no, he'd find out eventually. That wasn't his talk to have. Ernie's eyes drifted to Callan's bed and his expression turned to something sadder.
"Yeah, I meant it," he reiterated, probably unnecessarily, but gulped before he started again, "But if...if I was doing something horrible myself, you'd...do the same for me, right? You'd stop me, whatever means possible?
Marcus followed Ernie's eyes to Callan's bed, still wearing the confused expression. Did she have something to do with this?
"If you needed to be stopped...I'd do...something." it was a vague answer, but he really couldn't give anything else. He probably wouldn't be able to kill any of his friends, but he'd never throught he'd shoot another person either. There was no telling what he'd do in the moment.
"Ernie...why are you asking me this?"
Because I'm a liar.
Because I'm even worse than you.
Because I'd deserve it.
Because you had the decency to face your crime head-on, instead of pointing fingers at everyone else.
Ernie forced a chuckle, clearly not satisfied with Marcus' response.
"No reason," he shrugged helplessly, "Just thought it was important."
"Wh-?" Marcus started, unable to find a thought to finish his sentence. Why was Ernie being so wierd all of the sudden?
"Ernie...are...are you okay?" he finally asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Ernie shrugged again. Guess that was the best he was going to get. He turned again to leave, piping out an "I'll catch you later," as he closed the door behind him.
Marcus watched as Ernie left, not offering any response as the door slowly shut. That was...strange. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but he had left that whole conversation very confused. Why would Ernie bring something like that up, anyway? The whole thing was just...there was something about it that he didn't like. He felt uneasy for some reason.
He gave a quick look back into Callan's bed before he sat back down on the couch. Thank god she hadn't been awake to hear all of that. The D.C incident certainly wasn't something that he wanted to talk with her about; if only because he wasn't sure how well she would take the news. If she knew what he'd done while she was trying to be the hero...it wasn't something he wanted to think about.
"Your actions affect more people than you'd think."
Yeah...it would devastate her if she knew.
Slowly, the pieces began to click.
At the end of it all, he'd thought of a million different scenarios in which Callan knew what he'd done, and all the evidence pointed towards the same place. The only way she could have known. After all, there was one likely person who had no issues with reminding him of his actions.
As Marcus donned his hoodie and left the dorm for the night, that scenario kept running through his head. The fresh air hadn't helped as much as he thought it would, and the pacing and running his hands through his hair anxiously hadn't helped either.
Sure, it was possible...but maybe he was just overreacting. He and Ernie were friends. Even though Ernie hadn't been pleased with his actions, he wouldn't have done something like that.
Right?
By the time Callan finally woke up, the sun had set. Her conversation with Ernie seemed like little more than a bad dream. The room was clean though-- really clean. Evidence enough that he was the one who had gotten her home. It took a few extra minutes of hiding under the covers, internally dying of embarrassment before she dared get up.
Marcus was there. Probably still not feeling great after the other night. She didn't want to bother him too much, so she kept the conversation minimal-- something that seemed almost too easy. She'd already decided on what to do with what she'd learned that morning. And that was absolutely nothing. Marcus had enough to worry about. There was nothing to discuss, anyway. She believed Ernie and she trusted Marcus. Nothing had changed there.
Despite her best efforts to keep the mood light, however, he still seemed a bit off... nervous, even.
She chalked it up to the nightmares.
Hey Ernie! Super sorry for crashing on your bed. I don't even remember falling asleep lol
:unamused: :unamused:
agh, probably drooled on ur bed too, huh? I owe you big time. Plus for cleaning our room :sweat:
Np. Between the sports cloths and the ride back AND the room servise your starting to owe me a lot
I expect snacks and a netflix marthon next time :triumph:
dude literally anytime. me casa is your casa. we don't hang out enough
Ye defs :thumbsup:
Ernest | Sander
๐๐ ๐: ๐๐๐ฅ. ๐๐, ๐๐๐๐ / / ๐๐๐ธโ๐๐โ ๐ผ๐๐ค๐ฅ / / โ๐๐๐๐ฅ๐๐ฃ๐๐ ๐น๐๐ฅ๐๐ฃ๐ ๐ ๐ / / ๐๐๐๐
Collab with @RedDusk
It often started with an unpleasant buzz in his skull. His jaws ached, and he often found himself digging into his forehead with dull fingernails, as if that could release the pressure. It didnโt. Nothing would work, except violence in his limbs and fire in his blood. He knew. He had been to GZ a few times this last week. Yet, he did not let himself indulge. He stared at the ghosts, he watched them wandering about on the rooftops. But he didnโt give in.
He was starving his Stigma on purpose. It had happened before. Blood was a valuable commodity back at the lab. What they gave him was always from some sort of animal. And when they didnโt have business with him, it was days and days curling up in his empty cell, fingers coming away bloody. But he endured. He did not snap, he was strong, even then.
He was supposed to be stronger now. He could do this. So he had been working out his aggression in other ways. The gym had become a place he frequented, though only late in the evening when there werenโt that many people around. During the days, he would jog through the school ground, trying to focus on his breathing and keeping his mind off thoughts about carnage and death and crimson waves.
It felt doable, days ago. Now he couldnโt even hear himself think over all this buzzing.
So he found himself taking a break from exercising that late morning, rinsing sweat off his brows in a public bathroom.
The door sweeped open then, revealing a yawning Ernie walking in. The sight of Sander stopped him in his tracks. Stopped him well. Because between the sudden fear stabbing at his heart, the uncertainty of how to greet an acquaintance he hadn't talked to in a while and the basic need to relieve himself, Ernie had no idea what course of action to take.
"Oh fuck," he muttered under his breath.
Sander's only response was reaching for the soap dispenser and began rinsing his hands. He either did not notice or did not bother to acknowledge Ernie's presence. Ernie thanked his lucky stars and quietly maneuvered around to the urinals. He unzipped his jeans and let loose. The process was quick and he sent glances over his shoulder every so often. Ernie knew better than most that vulnerabilities were easy to exploit in the bathroom, something people like Carlton could attest to. A small sense of achievement lit his walk back to the sinks, though the initial dismay returned once he saw that the vampire was still there. He began washing his hands in silence, three sinks down from Sander.
Sander only seemed to notice him then, eyes first widened in surprise, then quickly narrowed, as if he was doing some serious internal debate. Because it was exactly what he was doing. The Stigma was clamouring in the back of his mind, bleeding hate and rage into his veins.
He cared about Christmas, so he stayed away. He was concerned about the consequences, so he tiptoed around other students. He was practicing restraint, so he refused the ghosts of GZ. But Ernie. Ernie wasโฆdisposable. Ernie wasโฆjustified, or so his Stigma was telling him. Blood for blood, that evening when Christmas returned to him bruised and battered. He could pretend he was better, but Sander knew well enough that he was not.
So he took a few steps toward Ernie, then.
Ernie's sink was shut off immediately and he turned to face the other Aberration. Fuck. Fuck, he knew this was coming. The numerous, untouched days since the island had gotten his hopes up.
"That's the thing about cowards, Ernie. Whatever they're running from, it'll alllllways catch up."
"Sander--" he began.
But Sander did not let him finish. A fist flew, aiming right for Ernieโs face. The shorter boy cried out, reeling back. But the rope saved him from falling backwards on the floor. Ernie was upright, for now, but he took a dazed step backwards. Blood began dripping onto his shirt. Sander was on him in a second, another bloody fist raised and swung. Ernie barely felt the impact. Barely got moved. But the terror he was feeling felt more tangible than the fist itself. He stumbled back even more. Frustrated by Ernie's inaction, Sander grabbed the other Aberration's collar and shoved him backward, right into the wall. There was no resistance. A loud thud echoed through the bathroom. Ernie tried to back up further but there was nowhere to go.
"N-no, stop," he whimpered. He could feel his injured nose starting to throb. Sander didnโt. The blood mage simply pushed forward, enraged by the scent of drawn blood. His left hand was bloodied and probably bruised, the skin was split with jagged cuts, but Sander didnโt care. The pain was a welcome distraction. It was the proof of violence. The promise for more. He wanted more, because this was what he deserved. This was his alone. His to take.
So he lifted his hand, throwing another punch at the side of Ernieโs head. Ernie closed his eyes to take the hit. Impact, no pain, as always. Only the heat in his nose. Later, he would realise how stupid he was, being scared so witless when only the first punch had done any actual harm. But for now there was only panic. Maybe if he just kept taking it, Sander would leave him alone.
"I'm sorry," he tried, raising his arms in an attempt to block the next hits. Sander knew his wrist landed wrong somewhere along the line. It throbbed now, and he thought it would swell up, soon. He knew. Probably broke it. But adrenaline was thick in his blood, and his head was filled with the terrible clamour of the Stigma, so the pain didnโt reach him. It felt muted, like a dream.
He breathed, then landed another punch on Ernieโs stomach. Pain flared. He only grew furious, shoving Ernie's arms out of the way and gripping the shorter boyโs neck this time.
โFight.โ -His voice was hoarse. Thick with anger โโFight back, coward.โ
Red hands. No red eyes. How had he not put the pieces together yet?
"Why?" Ernie only squeaked back, tears welling in his eyes.
That question only served to enrage Sander, prompting him to clench his fingers tighter.
"Stop!" Ernie grabbed at Sander's wrists, trying to wrench him away.
"Make me."
Ernie could practically feel Owen's sneer. Sense Liam's disappointment. This was why he'd grown up in the back of a nightclub, wasn't it? Because he was weak. Because he was afraid. Because he never had the will to put his neck on the line, to fucking fight for anything. Not even himself.
"You're not like them, Ernie."
That was true. If he was, this stupid, stupid fight would have already finished. The Senators demanded everything from their soldiers. Ernie could provide nothing.
Ernie pushed weakly against Sander's chest, a tear making its way down his cheek now.
"FIGHT BACK!" -Sander almost roared, slamming Ernie's head back against the wall.
Another wave of panic. No choice. No choice but to obey.
With a cry, with all his strength, Ernie shot his fist out at Sander's throat. The blow hurt, and Sander stumbled backward, coughing and choking. Ernie remained in his spot, slightly hunched. On hand was against the wall but the other...
The other was in a tight fist.
The buzzcut Aberration merely stared back, like he couldn't believe what he'd just done.
It took Sander a few moments to recover, but when he finally did, blue eyes glanced up with a murderous glint to him. As if he had gone mad. Maybe he did. In one long stride, Sander was standing right in front of Ernie again, hand outstretched and grabbing the latter's jaws. A faint outline of red enveloped both of them, signalling that Sander's power was working. Streaks of blood on Ernie's face was also gone, absorbed to fuel the blood mage's rage.
"Then you die." -Sander only whispered this time, sense and self apparently had been engulfed by the Stigma.
No. Fuck you, no. He told him to fight back. Don't FUCKING change it now!
The red drain would suck him dry if he didn't end this fast. Ernie's rope whipped itself around Sander's neck, tightly, tightly, like he could fucking decapitate this guy if he--no. The lanky boy was lifted high, quickly, his head smashing against the halogen lights and raining glass on the floor. Nothing more came out of the blood mage but gurgling noises and incoherent grunts. Blood was began to ooze from various cuts on Sanderโs face, just as his head spun dangerously, black spots dancing at the edge of his vision.
Yet, he fought, grabbing at the rope around his neck.
Yelling hard, Ernie commanded the rope with a clawed hand, throwing Sander to the side this time. The boy made sickening thuds as his head hit the wall, again and again and again. Ernie didn't let up until Sander went limp and the red haze stopped.
Silence.
Ernie collapsed against the wall, shocked. What had he--oh god. The boy rushed to his unconscious attacker, close but not daring to touch him. An ugly bruise was starting to form, dangerous red stirring to the surface in an uninterrupted line around Sander's neck. Blood dripped steadily from several lacerations on his head. Some of it was smeared on the wall Ernie had bashed him against. Sander was still breathing, fortunately. But this was really, really bad.
Silence. Nothing but the buzzcut boy's harried breaths.
Overhead, the broken light still flickered sporadically. Glass tinkled downwards. It was too close to the lunch hour, people were going to show up. There was...fuck, what the fuck was he meant to do now?
Hurry, hurry now. You do that well.
So much.
Sander himself was dumped onto a stall toilet, the rope once again used, this time to lock the door from the inside. No time to think. No time to clean. Ernie ran, quickly, quickly--for fuck's sake, hurry.
He stumbled out the bathroom, blindly shoving into people who were walking to the very same room he left. Went far, far away from the cafeteria. Waited by the bus stop and didn't bother concealing his X-mark, nor the drops of blood on his shirt. Only when the bus had reached the city center did he dare to pull out his phone. Trembling fingers tapped on a contact, one he'd acquired from what felt like an eternity ago.
Christmas. It all seemed real fucking ironic now.
Cafeteria bathrom first stall
Both of yuo stay the fuck away from me
October 13
Ernest | Zoe
๐๐ฆ๐: ๐๐๐ฅ. ๐๐, ๐๐๐๐ / / ๐๐๐ธโ๐๐โ ๐ผ๐๐ค๐ฅ / / ๐น๐ฆ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐น / / ๐๐ก๐๐
Collab with @Lasrever
Sleep was...impossible now. Ernie didn't know if he should be thankful or not. On one hand, he could avoid that frightful dream Emma warned him about. He could keep an eye out for Sander should he attack him again, a knife on his belt at all times. On the other...he was freaking tired. Only hours before, the boy had woken up with his face smushed on his new keyboard, a horrendous chord blasting through his headphones. Must have passed out in the early morning. It was a wonder he made it to his morning workout in time.
Ernie stood in the communal kitchen, staring at nothing as he stirred a bowl of cake mix. Homemade, of course, none of that store-bought bullshit. The birthday girl deserved only the best. The bench was littered with open flour packets and similar bowls he hadn't finished mixing. Still about four more flavours to make, and he hadn't even begun the lattice-work for the pie. He flinched as the oven alarm went off, before summoning his aura to avoid wasting time looking for the mitts. Eyes blinked shut as they were blasted by hot air, but Ernie didn't need sight to know the job had been well-done.
Ah. At least that heavenly smell would rouse him a bit.
Zoe wasn't exactly a morning person, to say the least, and this week had made the problem a whole lot worse. She'd started to dread the visions brought by her stigma, her wound ached incessantly, and she'd been sleeping at her desk as she tried and failed to put together what the hell was going on with all this. Combine that with a complete lack of motivation to look after herself, and the girl was a mess. Her hair was a bird's nest, her clothes were more crease than fabric, and the dark circles under her eyes had taken up permanent residence. At least when she ran into people at Ground Zero there was an excuse not to look her best, but that excuse didn't really fly when she was hanging around the dorms.
Who gives a shit anymore, right? She chuckled to herself, making her way bleary-eyed into the kitchen. It wasn't like she'd been leaving her room much without reason, and she didn't encounter that many people hanging around the dorms. She paused as she entered the room, the smell hitting her - she didn't really recognise it, but it was good. And was that Ernie? It took her a little longer than it should have to put two and two together.
"Kinda early for cake, don't you think?" The redhead yawned, looking around the room.
Ernie looked the girl up and down, the bags under his eyes emphasizing the unimpressed look he usually reserved for only Zoe. It seemed that the lack of sleep had thoroughly eroded his tact as the only response he had for his fellow Aberration was a monotone, "Ew."
Anger flashed across Zoe's expression, but after a moment she just shook her head, frowning. "Fuck you too, then."
A pause as Ernie mentally rewound the conversation.
"Huh. It is kinda early," he said to the ceiling, before turning to Zoe herself, "My bad."
That last part was supposed to be an apology, or as close to an attempt at one as Ernie could muster in his current state. He suddenly remembered something.
"Oh yeah, any updates on the Amigo thing?"
"Mm-hm." Zoe grumbled something that might have been an acknowledgement of the apology. She was silent for a long moment, preoccupied with the important task of coffee-brewing until she absorbed Ernie's question. Without turning to look at him, she spoke. "No-one's gotten back to me yet. Hopefully won't take too much longer."
"Yeah..."
Man, one-syllable responses were so much easier. Why didn't he use them more often? As he placed the cake tray down, he noticed the coffee machine being turned on. He pointed to a far corner of the counter.
"There's cake if you want. Otherwise it's getting tossed out."
The cake itself looked nice. A perfectly applied layer of white frosting coated the piece. Icing roses neatly bordered the top, creating a spiralling decal that complimented the neutral tones well. The only flaw the cake seemed to have was the bright blue 'HAPY BITHDAY' emblazoned at the top in crooked piped icing.
"If you're not saving it for a special occasion."
Zoe looked at the cake, impressed by the decoration - if slightly surprised that it had come from Ernie. Seemed like he didn't just do drinks then, although she was starting to wonder why he did all this stuff. She'd tried baking someone a cake exactly once, and there was a reason she hadn't made a second. "Who's it for, anyw--" But as she finally looked at the message, she paused."You know that's not how you spell that, right?"
Ernie grimaced. Of course he knew...eventually. Why else would he toss it away? "Look, do you want it or not?"
Taking another bowl, one for fondant this time, he sighed. "It's Siena's birthday. Me and the guys are preparing a surprise for later."
"Yeah, I'll have some. Siena, huh?" Zoe picked up her coffee with a slight grimace - she still didn't like the stuff, but needed the caffeine considering the state she was in. It was kind of a surprise that this was the first she'd heard about Siena's birthday, but it made sense; she didn't exactly seem like the type to bring up the subject. "Well, tell her happy birthday from me once you get there."
After her first bite, she paused, giving Ernie a look. "It's good. How d'you know how to do all this, anyway?"
"Actually, I only picked this stuff up when I got sent to West. Already knew how to cook so it wasn't too hard. And," he tried not to sound too childish, "I just...really like birthdays."
"Had time to practice baking there, huh? Sounds pretty relaxed." Zoe shrugged, though she couldn't help raising an eyebrow at the birthdays comment. Honestly, she'd never been a fan of the things herself. "Gotta celebrate when we get the chance around here."
"Mm, the monster situation is pretty relaxed on the West side too so we didn't get sent out as much. Also most of the kids there have a power that's dumb like floating two feet in the air or some shit so it's only like a handful of the same people who actually go on the missions." Ernie nodded in agreement with her statement about celebrations.
"Sometimes I think I'd take a dumbass power over this." Zoe forced a laugh, trying - and failing - to pass it off as a joke. "Whole lot less trouble for everyone, I'd bet."
Ernie nodded again. More awkwardly this time, since he was getting the feeling that she wasn't completely kidding. "Uh huh...yeah, those guys can be pretty fun. Can't count on them to have your back in a fight though."
A silence lingered after that sentence. If was totally honest, it was good that Zoe showed up when she did. Despite everything he told himself as an excuse, Cal's admission had affected him badly. And between the foreboding dreams, the Amigos, the threat of getting jumped of Sander again, the development of his powers and a whole load of other baggage, he needed to get something off his chest.
"Hey," he started hesitantly, rubbing his eyes, "you remember that David guy, right?"
"Course I do." She remembered all of them, one way or another. David was no exception to that rule, although being on someone else's side made it a little less frequent. Not that the memory wasn't sweet in its own way, the screams ringing out as warm blood coated her hand. For a brief second, Zoe was looking at something else - breaking into a vicious smile as her thoughts started running--
Shut the fuck up. As quickly as it had appeared, the smile was replaced by what could only be called disgust, before she managed to force her expression into neutrality. Really had to get better at that - it didn't do her much good to wear her heart on her sleeve, even if outright lying didn't sit well with her. Especially when she was getting blindsided by this kind of topic. "Why bring him up now?"
Ernie stared at weird expressions for a second, an alarmed eyebrow raised high before he finally responded.
"I dunno," he sighed, "Honestly, I haven't been thinking about that either but it sorta...came up recently."
He stared at the pan.
"The APC only got attacked after we shoved the guy in their hands. A kid got killed and everyone's finding some way to blame themselves. But...fuck, I don't know. Wasn't all that sorta our fault?"
Zoe raised an eyebrow, but didn't appear particularly horrified by the assertion. More surprised than anything; that certainly didn't cross her mind. "Guess you could look at it that way. Sure, our fault, I'll take that." Honestly, she tried not to think too hard about the dead ones - well, the ones she'd seen dead, at least. Not that Ernie needed to know why.
Still, even with it being the first time she'd thought of it, the guilt that came with the idea was negligible, relatively speaking. The indirect death of a kid she barely knew wasn't really all that much to Zoe, even if she just picked from the things she'd done in here. And more than that, the implications of what Ernie was saying irritated her in more ways than one. "Why're you guys still sitting around blaming yourselves, then?"
"I'm not sitting aroun--" Ernie frowned, trying to articulate everything he wanted to say, "I mean...that was far from my first mission, y'know? Shit happens, I know that. But the others..."
He leaned on the counter, contemplation taking him out of his baking for now.
"I dunno. Seeing them feel shitty makes me feel shitty. Makes me think too much. Like if it was our fault, would that--god, this is stupid--would it fix things for them?"
"No. They're not used to death. Besides, what happened in Wisford... that takes more than one person fucking up. I don't want them pointlessly blaming themselves," Zoe shook her head, "but I want them to figure out where they're responsible and do their damnedest to stop it from happening again. Even if there was some magic fix-everything button, I'd tell you not to use it."
"So if they do feel shitty, it means they are figuring out what went wrong?" Ernie's eyes widened at the lesson but he quickly covered it with a frown. What the heck, why was Zoe actually making sense now?
"Or maybe they're just moping. I'm not a mind-reader." Zoe scowled. Tricky subject, death, and blaming yourself for your actions was something she was painfully familiar with. But this was a different situation - the things she got hung up on were the times she'd pulled the trigger. "The difference is whether they're trying to do something about it. Help them figure out who fucked what, then what happens with that's their choice. Once they know everything, who they blame's not up to you."
"...Yeah."
'Help them figure'--no, he couldn't do that. They'd never look at him the same way. And he...he needed them. Ernie's mind drifted to Callan in his room, crying, and him being able to do nothing about it. If she knew...hell, if any of them knew...
Ernie spoke up again, eager to shift the subject to something that wasn't as guilt-tripping. "Blame is...hard to figure out, yeah. Letting them know everything though...I'm not trying to be an ass or anything here, but it's kinda funny hearing that from you." A corner of his lips quirked up. "You were really into that 'big bad villain' thing, that day in the lighthouse. Told Emma about David but didn't say jack about what I was doing there. What was that about, huh?"
"Why do you think I never tried to hide what I'm like, Ernie?" Zoe sighed, rolling her eyes. "I'm not a complete idiot. I know half of you hate me and the other half are scared I'll rip their throats out if they look at me wrong. Might as well use it where I can. Besides..."
To tell the truth, there wasn't really all that much thought going into this. The root of it all was much more simple, but that didn't make her any less certain about sticking with it.
"I said I would take responsibility. I don't break my promises."
Ernie narrowed his eyes at the girl. There was always the chance she'd use it against him. Always. Yet, when he examined her for any sense of impending betrayal, he couldn't find anything. And for some reason, he trusted that conclusion. For now.
"Right." He knew not to count his blessings, especially when they were falsely gained. "Thanks, I guess."
"No skin off my back." Zoe shrugged. It helped her out to make sure people kept their distance, after all. After a long moment of silence, she cleared her throat. Even if she didn't mind talking, she had a routine to try and stick to and no matter how exhausted she was missing a day at Ground Zero was a no-go. "If there's nothing else, I'm gonna leave you to your cake."
Ernie nodded. He needed some time to think anyway.
"Don't got much else to say, unless you want to pick up some cake decorating skills. I'll see you later then."
"I think I'll pass." With a small smirk, Zoe turned to leave. "Later, Ernie."
Callan | Determination | Ernest
๐๐ฆ๐: ๐๐๐ฅ. ๐๐, ๐๐๐๐ / / ๐๐๐ธโ๐๐โ ๐ผ๐๐ค๐ฅ / / ๐น๐ฆ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐น: โ๐ ๐ ๐ ๐๐๐ / / ๐๐ก๐๐
Collab with @Baklava and @Diggerton
She was more than a little pleased with herself. Exhausted as all get out, but with something of a pep in her step, Callan brandished a small silver basket, complete with glittery purple gift paper carefully tucked in between several cups noodle packets, a bottle of hot sauce, three pack of pizza-shaped erasers, and a knitted purple scarf, rolled up and tied with some twine. It was kind of like a miniature version of the senior night gifts they used to give out at the last home game of the season back at Westlake High. Nowhere as extravagant, but fit for its purpose.
The only part of the gift that seemed a bit lackluster was the note. Scrawled in Callan's average looking handwriting on a piece of paper torn out of a notebook, it read:
Just felt like you needed a pick-me-up.
Hang in there, Party Queen.
--Cal
Shifting the gift into one hand, Callan knocked on Emma's door.
A faint groan could be heard from the other side, followed by the rustling of sheets and then a loud bang and an equally loud โShit!โ
It took roughly another 30 seconds before the door opened. There was no Emma, instead the tall form of Determination dominated the door frame. She was quiet at first, looking Callan up and down, eyes lingering for a moment on the basket, before speaking up, โUhhhh... heyo, kelp head. Wassup?โ
Callan was surprised to see Riley open the door. 'Determination', she mentally corrected herself.
"Hey, Det," she smiled, choosing not to comment on the nickname, which she couldn't decide was flattering or not. "Is Emma around?"
"Nope. She's... doin' something. I dunno. But heeeeeeeey, if you're bored your good ol' buddy Determination is here!" she said with a small wink and finger guns.
She wanted to... hang out? Managing a nervous laugh, Callan tucked her hair behind one ear, "Actually, I just wanted to drop something off for Em. If that's cool...."
โYeah. Yeah, yeah, for sure.โ she said, putting on a not-so-subtle forced smile. She should've expected it, really. Who would want to hang out with someone who wasn't real.
Determination coughed. โSo, uh, watchya got?โ
Oh, geez. Spotting the strain in the tulpa's smile, Callan couldn't help but feel a little sorry for the thing. Shit, and she hadn't even thought of her when she was out buying this stuff the night before....
It wasn't Det's fault it looked like Riley, right? She idly wondered how often Emma left her alone in the room, considering she'd done so the last two times they hung out.
"Uh... just some stuff I thought she might like," Callan held the basket up for Determination to see, thumbing through the different items. She hesitated before speaking again, eyes darting between the tall, blue-haired tulpa and the empty room behind her. She wouldn't regret this, right? Emma had never said anything about Determination being especially dangerous on her own. "Uhhh... maybe I could come in and set it down?" she offered with an awkward grimace.
Determination visibly lit up, just a little. โI'm sure Em'll be all over that stuff. Yeah, come on in.โ Determination held open the door for Callan, gesturing her forward. Inside the room was surprisingly clean, with the small exception of the bed, which hadn't been made. In the corner Spartacus was curled up on a cat bed, now cleaned and looking significantly healthier after being fed. The TV was on, and apparently Determination was watching Blade Runner before Callan showed up. The film was just about hitting the halfway point - it was the scene where Sebastian finds Pris in the dumpster. โI was just, uh โ Emma showed me this movie. I wanted to watch it again, but, uh, I kinda fell asleep.โ
Callan looked around the room again. She'd already seen it, but... it suddenly seemed a bit different now. Her eyes lingered on the screen for a moment, trying not to think too hard about Emma's tulpa watching that of all things."Yeah, that's an awesome movie. Definitely worth watching more than once," she said, noting that apparently Det needed sleep. But with only one bed...?
Callan set the gift for Emma on the center of the desk, quickly turning back to face Determination. It didn't seem fair to be so creeped out by everything she did, but.... "Does Emma head out alone very often?" she asked tentatively.
"I mean, not all the time. She usually has me tag along, but, uh... y'know. I can tell that she feels weird about... all this. Figured I'd stop pestering her to take me with her all the time." Determination gave a slight shrug, taking a seat on the bed.
Callan remained standing, slipping her hands into her pockets in a faux-casual pose. "All this?" Callan repeated, curious about exactly how aware Determination was of the situation and all its parts.
"I mean, like... she went from having this mindless goon to having a weird new alien roommate that wants to follow her around all the time. Plus I..." Determination paused, getting caught up thinking about what to say, "I'm pretty much her ex. In looks, personality, and..." she stopped herself.
"Looks and personality."
Callan suspiciously arched one eyebrow.
"Yeah- I bet it's tough for both of you."
"Yeah. Tough." Determination said, laying back on the bed, "I mean, I don't really give a shit, y'know? Not like it's my fault I look like this. I think it's kinda cool."
Chewing her lip, Callan found herself at a crossroads. Det was clearly a lot more aware of everything than she thought. But would Emma be upset about her talking with it about all this stuff? Apparently they could communicate telepathically, too. So who was to say Emma wasn't hearing about all of this right now? And if not now, later?
She moved towards the door a step, but stopped. Just one more question.
"Hey, where do you sleep?" she smiled nervously, pretending to look for a second bed tucked away somewhere.
โOof. Creep much, kelp head? Uh, on the bed.โ
"Ah-!" Callan laughed hard and suddenly. Yeah, she kept forgetting about how great at being subtle she was. "I just meant-- you know-- the bed looks kinda small. And there's only one. Can't be too comfortable!" she hastily tried to patch up whatever insinuations her question might have set off before reaching for the door. It was sloppy work and probably making things worse. Best to get out of dodge now. "A-anyway, I don't wanna be a bother, so I should probably...."
โHey, wait, Cal...โ Determination reached out, looking down. Her words came out hesitantly, โListen... there was, uh, something I wanted to... I guess something I wanted to tell you.โ she paused, looking up with at her with a nervous smile.
Hand already on the doorknob, Callan's grip tightened. Almost enough to start denting the metal. Oh, fuck. Just leave. There was no way staying in this kind of situation could turn out okay.
...but what kind of situation was this exactly? What could Emma's tulpa possibly want to tell her?
She waited expectantly.
โRight... I, uh, just wanted to say...โ Determination sighed, composing herself, โEmma's been through a lot... and is going through a lot. She's got this... this tendency to become enamored with people really quickly... kinda like how you guys are 'BFFs' or whatever now. My point is, she trusts you. A lot... more than anyone else here. So don't mess with that, alright?โ
'More than anyone else'.... including Marcus? Callan's expression was an unreadable jumble of emotions as she processed what the tulpa had said. First and foremost, it wasn't at all what she expected. This was the sort of thing one person said behind another person's back. Not in a bad way, but... still. And what exactly did Det think she was going to do...?
"Uh," Callan nodded slowly, "R-right. I'll remember that.... Thanks..." And with that, she quickly jerked the door open and slipped back out into the hall.
โI mean it, Cal!โ Determination called after her. โShit, I really fucked that one up, didn't I?โ she muttered to herself, inaudible to Callan.
In the kitchen, Ernie was folding the edges of a pie. An uncharacteristic amount of flour was lathered on his apron. The poor guy looked exhausted and it was apparent that if he'd had even an hour's worth of extra sleep there definitely wouldn't be so many open bags of ingredients resting on the counter. He yawned, long and loud, before opening the oven.
Callan's heart was still pounding as she left Emma's dorm room behind. It didn't take long for the anxiety to subside, however. Emma's tulpa hadn't said anything too horrendously crazy, though she decide that talking with Det one on one wasn't something she wanted to have happen again any time soon. A tasty aroma emanated from the kitchens before she made it to the door. Curiously, wondered towards it, not daring to peek her head around the corner until she heard what seemed like a familiar yawn.
Poking her head around the corner, Callan spotted him, tireless baking away it seemed. "Whoa, what's goin' on in here?" she grinned in awe.
Ernie turned his head. Even the bags under his eyes didn't affect the smirk that showed up when he saw her. "Cake."
"Oooh," she cooed, briefly noting how tired Ernie looked. Was any one at this school getting enough sleep these days? She propped her elbows up on the counter and glanced at the cake. "It smells good, what's it..." she paused, leaning a bit closer and squinting at the iced lettering.
"O-oh," Ernie closed the oven after placing the pie in. He noticed her looking. "Yeah, just trying to grind a good one out. I'm not using that one in the corner though. You can have some if you want."
"Seriously?" her grin widened as she sidled up next to the offered cake. Was it wrong of her to be so eager? She hadn't had breakfast, yet-- or ever tried Ernie's baking, so... Two perfectly good reasons not to decline.
She chuckled at the mispelled words, "I'm guessing this is supposed to say 'happy birthday'," she remarked.
Ernie sighed. "Yeah. Pro-tip: don't try to spell things on three hours of sleep."
"What?" Callan frowned, looking up from where she'd been cutting a small piece, "Late night?"
"Oh yeah, totes," Ernie replied, trying to sound breezy. All light and casual-stylez.
"Hmm," Callan hummed with faux suspicion as she moved into the kitchen area, searching for a plate and fork, "What were you doing?"
Besides keeping watch from my window with a knife in my pants?
"Practicing. Piano." Nailed it. "Siena wants me to learn a piece by Friday. Speaking of Siena, that's," he pointed to a topic change, gesturing at the cake, "who the cake is for. Team SAP's holding a little surprise for her later today."
Callan spun to face him with fork in hand and several questions. Foremost... "Oh shoot! Her birthday's today?"
Ernie nodded. "Didn't I text you about it?"
Callan frowned, "No..." She thought for a moment, trying to remember if she could have spaced it.... No, definitely not. "And what's team SAP?"
"Oh...shit, that's my bad then."
At the mention of his bros, Ernie grinned proudly.
"Just a dumb name for me, Marcus and Brent. Don't ask me what it stands for though. It's been ages and...honestly, I'll look stupid if I have to ask."
Callan scoffed, "Fair enough... don't worry about it though. I should probably know my own roommate's birthdays." She dished up her slice of cake and leaned against the counter, idly combing her fork through the icing. Geez, she was going to have to make a run into town to find a gift or something before she turned in for the day.
"I didn't know you played piano," she said.
"Yeah, Siena helped me pick it up again."
"Oh what?" Callan swallowed the bite of cake in her mouth and laughed, "Siena plays? Man, I'm 0 for 2 today..." She didn't even know Ernie and Siena hung out. Then again, it was easy to miss a lot over the course three weeks. And her flipped schedule over the past few days hadn't done much to change that.
She set her empty plate on the counter and decided to take a shot at the dark. "By the way... are Brent and Siena dating?"
If Ernie had been drinking water, the question would have made him choke. Instead he cracked up.
"Hahaha, heck if I know!" He tried not to double over, remembering what Brent had told him about the Chris nonsense. "Want me to ask for you?"
Callan laughed along, though a little less enthused. Clearly she wasn't in on the whole joke, "Oh God, no!" She looked apologetic, "Just trying to figure out exactly how much I missed last month."
"Well, they do seem to hang out a lot. Even if they're not together right now I doubt there'd be much in their way."
"Ah okay... haha, I was just curious is all. Even though we're roommates, I guess Siena and I don't talk much. She's usually got her nose in a book anyway."
"Hm. That sounds like her," Ernie nodded, "How come you guys don't talk that much? Is the book tougher to get through than we thought?"
Callan laughed, "It's not like we don't get along. Just different interests I guess."
"Kinda like us, right?" he laughed, "I don't think I've touched a basketball in months."
"Heh," Callan shrugged lightly, "Kinda..." Her voice trailed off for a moment, as if a thought had just occurred to her. Funny how she considered Ernie one of her closest friends, yet there were so many differences. None where it mattered though, right? "Man, it's been a while since I touched a basketball, too, actually."
She waved both her hands in front of her, "Super strength kinda messed up my game..."
"That'll just have to be another thing we ask Heph. Unbreakable earphones and super-strength basketballs. Put that guy to good use, right? USARILN's got too many of those saran wrap trucks anyway."
Callan laughed, "Tell him to build me a whole super-strength proof house while he's at it. I've already gone through one hair brush and remote this week. Almost jacked up Emma's doorknob just now, too."
The piping bag burst in Ernie's hand, spewing a horrendous amount of icing over the top of the cake. He worked quickly to make it seem like a conscious action, grabbing the icing spatula and spreading the spurted substance in an even layer.
"Hair brush and--geez, is this the part where you tell me you've pummelled a whole house before? Heph might not have the time for that one," he chuckled lightly. But the spatula was held in a white-knuckle grip.
It was there. Small, but there. A pinch of pain. Just enough to make her wince at the comment. Almost unreadable and poorly masked behind a shrinking smile, but just enough... if you knew what to look for. Otherwise, she didn't seem to miss a beat. It was wasn't her fault, was it? Misery was the one who did it.
"Yeah, I guess that'd be a pretty big ask," Callan laughed, pushing herself off the counter to get a closer look at the cake, "You need any help with anything?"
Ernie stared back for a moment, solemn, scanning that chink in the armor. He didn't know what to make of it, whether it was regret or something else. So he improvised again. Kept that solemn expression and moved his arms protectively over the cake.
"You're not one of those people that waits until someone else buys a present and then just adds their name to the Christmas card, are you?" he asked with a pretend-glare.
Callan pouted, pretending to look offended, "Aw, c'mon. I wouldn't do that... but now that you mention it..."
She smirked, "I wouldn't mind helping you clean up in exchange for some gift ideas. I was gonna make a run into town, but... I have no idea what to get her."
"You, cleaning up for me? Man, what mirror universe are we in?" Ernie grinned cheekily. "Sure, I'll take you up on that. Hell, you can even help me with the decorating. Put your name on the card and all that. Might make Siena happy to hear that her friends worked on it together."
"I was inspired by the cleaning legend himself!"
Cleaning up the kitchen turned out to be even easier than Callan thought. Ernie hadn't made a very big mess, even with the obvious sleep deprivation. His good mood made the work go by faster, too. Something Callan was grateful for considering that she didn't usually enjoy the tidying up part. It was well worth the effort, though. Following Ernie's advice, Callan managed to find a shop in town that sold an assortment of adorable dog sweaters. Probably a good idea with how much colder it'd be getting, right? She bought a few different styles, unsure of what Siena might like, and folding them neatly into a pastel pink gift bag.
Normally she'd be anxious to see Siena open it, but with her sleeping schedule running so late already, she simply dropped it off with Ernie and returned to her dorm.
Omg Callan
You have like no idea how awesome this gift is, that scarf was a gift from my sister and I felt so shitty that it got messed up
You're def getting the friend of the year award thank you so much
aw its no biggie, gurl
glad you liked it ;)
I really do <3<3<3<3
I'll try not to get Kusari's blood all over this one
lol ya maybe don't wear this one into battle
that or get ernie to hook you up
i hear he's a pro at doin laundry no joke
Yeah, I think I'll just leave this one at home
Shit man that was our first battle, feels like so long ago
Didn't I almost get you killed?
Whoops xd
dang it does feel like a long time
haha but no you didnt almost get me killed
getting smacked by that monster wasnt a fun time tho :grimacing:
:sweat_smile:
Det's pretty much calling her own shots now so that kind of thing probably won't happen again
Probably
if it does, im holding you responsible
just so you know haha
:(
Hey man, take it up with her
She's a big girl now
Always blame the parents :kissing:
Woah man, cut a single mom some slack
This analogy really works because she basically treats Marcus like her step-dad that she doesn't like :/
..?
What?
Fr I mean it
Me and Marcus were out and she just showed up, I don't think she's into us... like... yeah
And then she started getting all mouthy so I sent her home
Like a kid who doesn't like her mom getting a new boyfriend
((Okay yeah this analogy feels weird now...))
Hmm that is kinda weird
but I guess it makes sense shed want to spend time with you
your like her creator
Yeah . . .
It's not that I don't like her, it's just awkward as hell
The whole Riley thing is just too weird
Idk maybe I should try to get over it, not like she's going to go away
sorry em :/
id like to help but i think im just as lost as you on this one
like i said tho, maybe you'll have another dream soon and she wont look like your ex anymore
Dw about it, this is totally my problem
You're doing enough just by being my vent
I just feel like really guilty, because Marcus and everything
Because I'm sure he'd be all jazzed up to hear that I apparently can't stop thinking about fucking Riley :x
โฆ
I just read that over amd that's not how I meant that...
I was trying to say like
I was using fucking for emphasis, not as a word
Just forget I said anything pls
lol dw I know what you meant
your secret's safe with me ;)
Thanks <3
Things are already fucked enough, last thing I need is this shit ruining my relationship with one of the like four cool people here
Yeah I feel you
hang in there. you got this.
ttyl
Seeya
October 14
Ernest | Sander | Emma
๐๐๐: ๐๐๐ฅ. ๐๐, ๐๐๐๐ / / ๐๐๐ธโ๐๐โ ๐ผ๐๐ค๐ฅ / / ๐๐๐ฆ๐๐๐ฃ๐ช โ๐ ๐ ๐ ๐๐ / / ๐๐๐๐
Collab with @RedDusk and @Diggerton
Ernie sat in front of the washing machine, slumped, his head leaning against the wall. Fucking...fuck. This was hardly new. The paranoia, the constant need to greet people with some semblance of a smile. He'd operated with little sleep before but this? This was ridiculous, and it was starting to take a major toll on him. Maybe Callan had the right idea with all those energy drinks. Ernie felt his eyelids getting heavier, more and more concentration being needed to keep them open. And this wall was starting to get real...comfy...
It was then that a lanky figure walked in, blue eyes trained on Ernie like he knew exactly where the other Aberration was. Well, he did. Stopping in front of Ernie, Sander poked at his shoulder. With a sigh, Ernie opened his eyes, roused by the contact and the sudden scent of cologne filling the air. His blurry gaze moved upwards until they met the blue of the teen in front him.
The reaction was instantaneous.
A golden glow lit shadows against the walls. Ernie's legs kicked out against Sander, sending the shorter one backwards off the bench and onto his bottom.
"Don't," Ernie muttered as he shifted back, his rope poised and ready.
"I'm not here for...that." -Sander blinked, seemingly surprised before moving a few steps back, crossing his arms.
"Good. Stay that way. Stay back." Ernie glared at the lanky Aberration and began getting to his feet.
Sander cleared his throat, but he complied, backing away further. He scrunched his brows though, contemplating. Ernie stood in a ready stance, prepared to lunge or make a break for it if Sander snapped again. Another student entered the room but a withering glare from the glowing Aberration sent the poor kid right back out.
"What do you want?" Ernie growled. His eyes kept flickering to the door.
"To...thank you, actually." -With the prompt, Sander got straight to the point, flashing Ernie an uneasy smile.
The buzzcut boy's face scrunched into an ugly squint. "Huh?"
"The other day. Whatever you did, it triggered something." -Sander shrugged, tone light and neutral, as if several broken bones and a concussion were nothing -"I'm...free now."
Unable to help himself, his lips split into a grin. He tapped the X mark on his throat.
"I'm free. It's silent now."
Ernie's gaze flickered from Sander's face to his neck, realisation dawning quickly.
"You had the dream."
"You know about it?" -An eyebrow arched -"Are you...? Is it silent, for you too?"
"I..." the shorter teen's hand reached for his own mark, "Almost. It's there but it's...quiet." And, contradictory as it was, that didn't necessarily feel like a good thing.
"What did you do?"
Ernie grimaced. "I don't know. It just happened."
First Emma, now Sander? This...what did this mean for the others? Hazel the bipolar titan and Zoe the anti-villain? No, that wasn't important right now.
"I almost killed you in that bathroom," Ernie said accusingly, "And you said that triggered the change?"
"It could. The shadow wouldn't have come, otherwise." -Funny enough, they almost killed him several times before, and nothing happened. Maybe Ernie just got that close. Or maybe the shadow took all those years finding its way. Or maybe it was all a big coincidence. Regardless, he felt that Ernie might know more, considering that he was a fellow Aberration.
"The shadow..." The details matched Emma's description. "Did it want to consume you? The Stigma?"
And the most important factor. Ernie could feel the dread welling up.
"Did you...have to fight?"
"It wanted to. I just...got lucky."
" 'Got lucky' how?"
Sander's expression hardly changed, but his blue eyes grew cold.
"Well, how did you get lucky?"
Ernie noticed the shift. "I..."
Think. Think, dammit. What else did she say?
"Something...protected me."
"Who?"
"Something right? I dunno, it didn't make much sense," Ernie blindly repeated Emma's words.
"There must be someone." -Sander simply shook his head, frowning. The shadow was a liar. A thief. How could Ernie know what it really was? -"How can you tell it was the shadow? How can you chase it away?"
God. Right, Emma had mentioned a 'someone else'. Someone among old names from the class. Bitch sure chose a bad time to leave out details. Ernie's improvisational lying could only go so far.
"Yes. There was...someone...?" Ernie tried cautiously. "It's kinda--I don't really want to talk about it."
"Then don't." -Sander let it go, obviously didn't seem to be that interested in Ernie's story after all -"It's fine. I just...want to thank you, then. Maybe we were just...in the right place at the right time."
"It's no problem?" Ernie winced, though inwardly he was relieved that the subject was dropped. Shame. Looked like he wasn't going to get any details out of this guy.
But with the last statement, Ernie's scowl returned.
"Wait. No, it wasn't 'right' anything. You attacked me first! What the fuck was that about?"
"Stigma." -Sander looked Ernie straight in the eyes then, face blank. Despite everything, his feelings about Ernie did not change the slightest. In fact, they might have intensified, now that he was no longer guilting himself into accepting the bad things in his life -"I'm sure you understand."
So it wasn't because he hadn't been paying attention to Christmas on the island? Ernie paused, mulling over the information. He didn't know if that was better or worse. All he knew was that he was still pissed as all hell.
"You're a fucking cunt." Ernie stated simply.
"Then what are you?" -Sander simply looked interested, as if he was genuinely curious about the answer.
Ernie suddenly felt the strong urge to swing something at Sander's head. Something with a handle that shattered easily. But there was no such thing within his grasp. Instead he just pinched the bridge of his nose.
"A really angry dumbass," he sighed, wondering why he was playing along with Sander's 'I know you are but what am I' bullshit, "Look, if there's nothing else to say can you just go?"
Sander nodded, accepting the request easily. He turned and left quickly without another word. Ernie watched him exit, waited a full minute before the buzzcut Aberration finally slumped back into his seat. God, that guy was a piece of work and a half.
"Fucking asshole..." Ernie muttered to himself and pulled out his phone. The golden glow disappeared in the meanwhile. There was someone he needed to talk with, now that he'd learnt that there were some important fucking details she'd left out of her supposedly friendly warning. His fingers tapped impatiently on his thighs, playing out a piece he'd been practicing as he waited for the ringtone to end.
โHello?โ
Ernie did his best to maintain a civil tone. His efforts resulted in his outward expression coming out as something between a smile and a vicious grimace. "Yeah. Hi. Are you busy right now?"
โUh, not... particularly? What's up?โ
"We need to talk. About that thing we talked at the bus stop."
โUhhh... sure. Let's talk, then.โ
"Laundry Room 14. I'll be waiting." He hung up then. Minutes later, he heard someone outside.
โSo what? Gotta do some laundry? You, uh, realize you don't have any clothes with you, right?โ a muffled voice came from being the door, in the hallway outside the laundry room.
โNo. Just here to talk to someone, you can hang out here for a bit.โ Emma said, pushing open the door, waving at Ernie as she walked in.
โPffft. Fine. Whatever.โ the voice called from behind her as she walked in.
Emma shut the door, nodding at whoever was on the other side, โWhat's up?โ she said, turning towards Ernie. He merely glowered back at her silently, not rising from his seat. Emma stared. โUh, you wanted to talk, right?โ
"You didn't say that it was a 'someone' in the dream." His tone wasn't happy.
Emma looked confused, โUh, someone? What are you talking about?โ
"The big, bad, evil dream-shadow!" Ernie gestured wildly, "You didn't tell me it was a person."
Emma shrugged, clearly not taking this nearly as seriously as Ernie was, โWas it? I dunno man, the whole thing was confusing as fuck. It showed up as someone from my past, but, like, that's not what it was. I could tell it was... something else. What, did you have the dream?โ
"The past?" he croaked, turning even paler. Guess that was the only part he caught. His head found its place in his hands as he groaned.
โUh, Ernie? What's going on?โ Emma asked, concern edging into her voice.
Ernie sighed. "Look. I have a lot of people I don't want to see. And I'm very sure they don't wanna see me back. So even if you think it's unimportant, if you could mention details like this when you're talking about situations where our entire fucking sanity is on the line, that would be really fucking appreciated!"
Emma was quiet for a moment.
โSorry.โ she said, quiet, subdued.
Another beat.
โI was trying to help, really, I just... I don't have any fucking idea how to handle this shit. These dreams are so fucking weird, and... I was still trying to make sense of the whole thing.โ
Ernie frowned back at her. The exhaustion on his face was more apparent than ever.
"Yeah." It seemed that he was accepting the apology. "I shouldn't have yelled. It's just...I've been low-key freaking out ever since you told me about it. And then it turned to a high-key freaking out. And then I hear about this and--"
A breath. He closed his eyes.
"The person it looked like. Was it someone good or bad from your past?"
Emma shrugged. โGood, I guess. Maybe a little bad too.โ
She sighed.
โI guess mainly it was... someone that I really wanted to see.โ
The boy looked more sorrowful than ever, hearing that. Even if he wanted to see them, it wouldn't be real.
"And that's how it lowers your guard? The bad thing?"
โThat's how it happened to me. I... I practically invited it to do whatever it wanted to me. So don't do that, I guess.โ
"Okay," He nodded. A pause. "...okay. Sander got the dream, by the way. That's why I'm asking now. Guess we can expect the others to come round soon."
โHm. I guess we'll see, huh? Hope things work out for everyone. I'd suggest that we start notifying people, but... honestly, I'm still not sure what the right thing to do is. How did he seem?โ
Ernie didn't have to think long. "Happy. A lot happier."
He furrowed his brow.
"Should we tell them? I know I said we should expect more dreams but what if some of them are just holding out for something that never comes? And...we don't even know what happens if you fail to resist it."
That was the part that scared him the most.
โI'm just... do you know what Sander did? I'm still trying to figure out if we should fight it. I mean, it was... it was eating my stigma. And it almost finished, and my stigma is almost gone. So what if letting it eat is the right thing to do? What if that's how we get rid of it?โ Emma sighed. โI'm lost. The thing seems dangerous, but...โ
"Uhhhhhh," Ernie blinked. He wasn't looking forward to talking with the lanky Aberration again, even if it was for important information, "He didn't mention anything. Maybe we, or just you, can ask him later?"
โProbably a good idea. I don't really know the dude, where can we find him?โ
The Aberration's eye twitched. "I...have his number. I guess we could arrange a meet-up," Ernie said through grit teeth. "Uh, I should warn you though. There's a good chance he won't give information to me...specifically."
He sighed.
"I may have led him to think that I've already had the dream. Also there are...other things, so..."
Emma raised an eyebrow. "Makin' enemies all over the place, huh? Don't worry, I can do the talking, I guess."
Ernie merely rolled his eyes. "Right, thanks. One more thing I gotta ask though. Did you have to do something to trigger the dream? Sander mentioned that he got it after he...got hurt...so I was just wondering."
"Not sure. I wasn't hurt, it was after we got back from the island... I can't think of anything in particular that would've set it off. I was in a normal dream, and then it just... happened. Maybe it had something to do with the battle."
Ernie forced a smile. "Yeah...the battle..." he shifted nervously, "Welp, guess I'll text him now."
He took his time composing it. Even consulted Emma for a spell check.
Hey Sander, are you free to meet up right now? Emma and I want to talk more about the dream.
There was no reply, but a few minutes later, Sander appeared, poking his head into the laundry room, expression was one of subtle curiosity.
"Can I help you?"
Ernie grimaced visibly at the sudden appearance. Right, super senses. He nudged Emma with his elbow for her to start.
โHey Sander. We, uh, wanted to try to figure out what's going on with the dream, since... you've had it too now. I was just wondering, when that shadow came, did it... did it get to do what it wanted before you fought it off, or...?โ
Sander tilted his head, carefully discerning Emma's expression. He did remember her from their previous brief interactions, though nothing notable really came to his mind about her. Their curiosity was rather...suspicious, though.
"Why do you want to know?"
โBecause, these dreams are affecting all of us. Affecting our stigma. Me and Ernie aren't sure what's causing the stigma to get better โ fighting it or letting it eat. We both... it ate, and then we fought it off, so we're not sure which caused the stigma to lessen. If we can figure it out we can tell everyone else and help them get rid of their stigmas.โ
Sander looked at Emma for a few moments, before he finally spoke up. It didnโt really matter if they wanted to know. What he was truly concerned about was Christmasโ involvement in all this. He didnโt want the blond boy to be used as another tool in this aspect, too.
โI didnโt fight it. It would have eaten me. ButโฆI was saved.โ
โHmmmm... so you did the same thing we did. It could go either way, still. I was thinking that the right thing to do was fight it, since... it seemed evil, but it was eating our stigmas. And our stigmas are better. That's gotta mean something, right?โ Emma sighed. This really didn't tell them anything โ more of the same information she already had.
"It was a debt. You owed it something, and it collected, didn't it?" -Sander crossed his arms -"You all wanted something when...mark appeared, yeah?"
โW-What? Where exactly are you getting the idea that it was collecting a debt? There... wasn't anything in my dream that suggested that.โ
Sander just looked confused then -"It's just...me then?" -He looked at Ernie. The pause lingered before Ernie realised that he was the one getting addressed.
"Uh, yeah, seems like it." He nodded along to his own response.
"Then that's all I know."
Ernie narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure?"
Sander just stared at Ernie. Another coincidence? Maybe the power was granted randomly, after all. Either way, he didn't really care.
Emma watched the exchange with a frown. Debts? Because of their powers? It was worrying, to say the least. โWell... thanks for coming to swap info, Sander.โ she cut in, โEven if we didn't really learn a lot, it's still... helpful.โ
"Yeah. Thanks." Ernie added flatly.
Sander nodded, then turned around and made another quiet exit. Again, Ernie watched him leave. He waited a few moments before turning back to Emma.
"That helped, right? Sort of?"
Emma shrugged, โNothing that'll help use figure out what we actually wanted to. The bit about the debt was... interesting. Definitely didn't have anything like that in my awakening or in that dream, so... I dunno what to make of it.โ
"Mm," Ernie sighed, "It's like the more we find out, the weirder it gets. Bad news, all around."
He contemplated for a moment.
"So what's the verdict on telling the other Abes? Are we still keeping our mouths shut?"
โI... we still don't know what the right answer is, so maybe it's best if we just keep quiet. Let them... let them decide for themselves what they wanna do. Wouldn't want to tell them anything that'll mess them up, right?โ
The 'mess them up like you did to me?' Ernie was thinking didn't leave his mouth. He nodded instead.
"Okay. Thanks for all the help, and for sticking to my story." A cheeky smile lit his face. "I knew you'd be good but I didn't think you'd be such a pro at it."
โYeah, whatever. I'll see ya later, I guess.โ
โYeah, c'mon Em, let's goooooo!โ the voice from behind the door called.
โRight. Later.โ Emma nodded, turning towards the door.
Hm, guess they weren't quite there with their classmate-ship yet. He thought it'd be funny to make a callback to their earlier days. Ernie raised an eyebrow at the unfamiliar voice but ultimately left it alone. Didn't seem out of place for someone like Emma to have a bunch of random pals. The girl outside must've been a close friend to wait so long. He'd sate his curiosity but there were only two minutes left on the machine's timer. He didn't like his work being put off or interrupted.
"Mm. Seeya." He gave a short wave and turned back to his laundry.
