9/17
Emma | Marcus
𝕄: 𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟙𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝕎𝕒𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕥𝕠𝕟 𝔻.ℂ. / / 𝕃𝕚𝕞𝕠/ℙ𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕖 / / ~𝟘𝟡𝟘𝟘
Collab with @Diggerton @Chasers115
The short ride in the APC had served to somewhat put Marcus on edge again, almost as if he was waiting to see what would go wrong this time. However, it was the transfer over to a luxury style limousine that had completely shifted his mood. He'd quickly gone from 'slightly stressed' to 'giddy schoolgirl', nearly diving into the plush seats.
"Ah! A minifridge!" Marcus exclaimed, looking to the few guards that were helping students pile in. "See, this is how you do it! Take notes, boys!"
Emma, however, was ready to leave by the time the APC came. Their short stay in Wisford felt like it had gone on far too long: The townspeople hated them, the media hounded them, and she had managed to give off the impression that she was either psychotic or stupid to a number of their classmates… and honestly, if that’s what people thought of her she couldn’t exactly bring herself to disagree. She was stupid, completely unfit for battle… hell, even outside of battle she managed to fuck everything up. She was also crazy. At least, she felt like she was going crazy. The realities of the world around her were wearing her down and it wasn’t something that she could just stop… and that’s without taking the Stigma into account. It was quickly becoming too much…
But she couldn’t think about that, could she? No, she had decided, she needed to what she’d always done. Internalize. Compartmentalize. She couldn’t let her problems get to her. She needed a distraction and for now she accepted that it would come in the form of Marcus Howell; certainly not unpleasant as far as diversions go.
She followed him into the limousine with a cautious step; she was used to seeing them but had rarely actually being in one. It felt far too fancy for her, but she wasn’t going to tip him off to how uncomfortable she felt. ”Well, I guess now that we have a celebrity in the group they have to treat us a little better, eh Zip Zip Boi?” she said teasingly. Of course she’d heard the news; Marc, the new face of subnaturals, her boyfriend. She’d been joking about their potential status as a famous couple before, but now… well, she didn’t know how to feel about their group’s new-found fame, his in particular.
"I know, right? It feels nice to be recognied for on-" Marcus stopped short, giving Emma a look like a curious puppy. Who the hell was Zip Zip Boi? It was no matter, that was a thought for sometime when he didn't have things to look at and snacks to wolf down. The supply he'd bought from the store had worn down a day ago, and the hotel food was just terrible. It was nice to have something decent for once.
Ignoring the fancy drinks and wierd food he didn't recognize, Marcus went for the layman's chips and soda, cracking a smile as Siena pulled some of the finer stuff. It was odd; she seemed the most comfortable out of all of them - almost as if the setting fit her to a 'T'.
The thought was lost as Marcus scooted over, patting the seat next to him as an invitation for Emma.
Emma followed Marcus’s invitation, taking a seat next to him with a slight look of befuddlement. Clearly, she had said something weird… wait, did he not know?
Wait, he totally doesn’t know.
”Oh. My. God. You don’t know?” a smirk broke out as her face quaked with the threat of laughter. ‘Zip Zip Boi’ had sounded like something Marcus himself would’ve come up with. ”They’re calling you Zip Zip Boi all over the internet after that interview. Like, Boi. B. O. I. I mean, right now Time Scar is the more popular name, but I’m personally rooting for Zip Zip Boi.”
Marcus stared at Emma, his mouth full of chips, for a long moment. His eyes scanned her face, looking to see if she was kidding or not. How'd he get a nickname? Why was he all over the internet? He'd only done one interview in the middle of a motel alley - that wouldn't have been enough.
He swallowed, still staying silent for a few seconds before he hesitantly spoke. "You're messing with me. That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard."
The implied laughter turned into actual laughter. ”No way. You really didn’t hear? Zip Zip Boi is the talk of the town.” Emma paused, her face turning serious. ”I guess you didn’t hear the rest of it, huh? Marcus, millions have watched that interview. I mean, it’s the first time one of us has had an actual interview where they don’t make us out to be monsters… they’re… they’re calling you the ‘face of subnatural oppression’. You’re…” Emma paused, sighing.
”We’re like, a big deal now. It’s not just you…. Christmas, Brent, Siena, they’re talking about them too. And I’m sure they’ll focus on the rest of us soon enough.” Emma stretched back in her seat, trying to will herself into comfort.
"Wha-?" Marcus said, immediately dumbfounded by Emma's statement. Millions plural? He'd become the face of subnatural oppression?
He didn't exactly want that. Sure, he'd given the interview with the intention of trying to make people see that subnaturals weren't all bad people, but he hadn't expected it to take off and be seen by millions.
"You're kidding."
He was famous. He was legitimately famous. A kid from the middle of nowhere was famous across millions of people.
This was a lot to take in at one time, and he wasn't exactly sure how he felt about it.
Emma frowned a little, ”Sorry, I guess there’s a better way of putting that than just… throwing it all at you.” Emma’s hand found his, giving it a light squeeze, ”It’s true though. I’m sorry, I’m sure it’s… difficult.”
"It's...a little bit overwhelming, yeah." Marcus said, anxiety fluttering in his chest. It subsided a little bit with Emma's hand, and he squeezed it back, giving her a hesitant smile.
"Lucky us, huh?"
”If I were lucky I’d be back in New York fangirling over Time Scar, not going into battle with him.” Emma said offhandedly, a small tinge of guilt following the statement. ”But I guess we shouldn’t think about that. Out of all the people I could be stuck with you’re not so bad.” she joked, a crooked smile making its way onto her face.
"Hey, I'm right here; you can fangirl all you want!" Marcus said, giving Emma a light shove. "Better do it quick - I'm going to have a crowd of adoring fans at this rate!"
He paused for a moment, returning her crooked smile. "And thanks, you're not that awful, either."
”Right.” Emma chose simply to agree.
If only he knew.
The stigma, of course, was never far. Emma ignored it. ”Soooooo… how was Wisford for you? Besides, y’know, the whole interview thing.”
"Oh it was..." Marcus started, his mind immediately flashing back to the cold solidarity of the bathroom floor. "...fine." he said, rather unconvincingly.
"How about for you? Get into any trouble after I apparently terrorized that poor kid?"
Emma sighed.
”Hospital visits. That was… about it.”
Emma, at least, was a natural liar. She couldn’t say the same for Marcus, but if he didn’t want to talk about it she wouldn’t press. ”They sure did a number on Hazel, but I never found out exactly what happened with her.” she said, giving a small shrug.
"Well, with any luck, they weren't too mean to her. I'd hate to get on the wrong side of that one, that's for sure." Marcus leaned back in his seat, propping his leg up and enjoying the limo ride.
"You know, say what you want about the snotty rich people downstairs, but they sure do know how to accomodate! Look at this place!" Marcus exclaimed, throwing his arms wide and giving Emma a wide grin.
He'd been absolutely shocked to see the telltale white dome rising over the river, the clearest indication of where they had been transported to. They'd been trasped through the lobby, up the elevator, and into the penthouse, but Marcus had barely payed attention to any of it. Instead, he gazed wide eyed at the scenery, absolutely awestruck by the hotel. He could barely comprehend that people lived like this every once in a while, much less daily! It was certainly more luxorious than anything he'd ever been able to experience.
And he was going to see exactly how many things he could push and poke; just to get a better idea of how the other half lived, of course.
As much as she had hated to admit it Emma was looking forward to returning to the school. Ever since the revelation that their little trip would last a little longer she’d felt a distinct pang of disappointment. She couldn’t really feel at ease as long as they were away- she didn’t feel at ease at the school either, but it was better. There was also the matter of her and Vivaldi’s little experiment- it looked like that would have to wait too, at least for now.
But Marcus seemed happy with the arrangement, so she tried her best to match his enthusiasm. ”Right. I’m sure those very same snooty rich people are already looking for a new place to stay.” she stated dryly. Well, at least she was trying. ”You’re right though, this place is way too nice for us. I feel like we’ll get in trouble for breathing the same air as these people.” a slight smile lit up Emma’s face. She’d been to a lot of fancy places like this- it’s inevitable that she’d have a few rich friends considering where she grew up, but at the same time she felt just as uncomfortable as she had been in the limo.
She gave an offhand glance to the door of the rooms, counting them. She had instantly noticed the disparity between their numbers and the rooms, ”Only twelve rooms,” she commented plainly, ”Some of us will have to share.” she commented a little too plainly. Her eyes flickered towards Marcus, her expression remained unchanging, refusing to betray anything.
Marcus's excitied looking around the room stopped as Emma listed the room count, his eyes flicking over the numbers himself. It was true, too many students, not enough rooms for them. To be expected really, what hotel planned a penthouse suite for a whole battalion of children?
"Well...my roommates will probably be sharing a room between the two of them..." Marcus said, hesitantly starting his thought. They were dating. It wasn't a weird thing to ask - especially when it was required! Why was he so nervous about it?
He allowed his mind a pause to build some composure; a little bit of confidence at least, so his statement wouldn't sound like it was being spoken by a small child.
"You want to share a room with me?" he finally asked, looking at her almost curiously.
”Ummmmmmmmmmmm…”
This had been exactly what she was afraid of. She wasn’t quite sure how to respond- she wasn’t certain what Marcus expected in terms of… well, the obvious point of apprehension when two people of the opposite gender shared a room. A list of negatives built up in her head: she didn’t want the others to think she was slutty, they’d only just started dating, she wasn’t sure what she had wanted…
God, she had no idea what she wanted, she realized, let alone what Marcus did.
She quickly became aware of the fact that during the couple of seconds she spent internally debating the issue her cheeks had flushed completely red and she had started to move through her plethora of nervous tics- first a slight squirming in her leg began which quickly turned into a tapping foot, followed by her hand shooting up to scratch her nose and then moving to uncomfortably tug on her hair, before…
Before she realized she must’ve looked very stupid.
She internally begged herself to regain a bit of the composure that she had tried so hard to maintain. She took a breath before her hand moved once again to rub the back of her head, ”Well, uh, I mean, I guess if you, uh, want to it’s… not a big deal?” she said quickly, her forced answer followed shortly by a nervous laugh.
Oh no, he'd said the wrong thing. He could tell that the statement had been a bad idea, just from the long indecicive noise she made, much less all of the other little things that he noticed, his own nervousness starting to become evident. He'd rushed it, brought it up too early, and now everything was at risk of falling apart.
"I-I mean... Marcus said, moving quickly to diffuse the awkwardness. "...we don't have to if you don't want to! You could room with your one roommate! No worries!"
He said it without thinking; there'd probably not be anywhere for him to sleep without finding somebody to room with, and he didn't exactly have a lot of other options. Maybe Ernie if he needed. Or maybe he'd just get the couch.
”Oh, no no no! I mean, if you want to stay, in the, uh, same room, it’s fine. It’s not like we’re not already rooming with people of the same… uh, gender, right? So it’s not, like, a big deal or anything, right?” Emma’s face continued reddening steadily, ”I mean, just because we’re rooming together doesn’t mean we have to- or, I mean, we could… or…”
What the hell am I saying?
Her face quickly shot down to the ground, ”I should really stop talking.”
Didn't have to...? They could...?
Was she talking about what he thought she was talking about?
Marcus's face reddened also, nearly matching the same vibrancy as Emma's, as he nervously chuckled a little bit at the statements. He wasn't even going to look any more in depth at whatever it was she had just said, especially if asking to room together took them both down to quivering messes.
"Guess we have that one in common, huh?" he said, his face starting to cool slightly.
A forced laugh. ”Right. Yeah.” this situation only confirmed that she was a complete and total idiot. ”Sooooooooooooo…” she began slowly, ”I… guess… we’ll room together?” she said hesitantly, ”Unless you don’t want to, of course!” she quickly tacked on.
"I do. I mean, it's fine!" Marcus said, quickly trying to put Emma's fears to rest. He was still silently making fun of himself in his head; having been so flustered over a little thing like sharing a room. But Emma was flustered too, so how dumb was he for worrying that she'd get the wrong idea?
Still pretty dumb. Clearly.
"Welp. Glad we figured that one out." Marcus said, a slight chuckle escaping his lips.
”Yeah! Yeah…” Emma, for her part, was still flustered. So many things to worry about… would they sleep in the same bed, would she keep him up if they did, would they…
Oh, god, she was getting nervous again just thinking about it. It wasn’t like she hadn’t ever done it before, but in a place like this, in these circumstances, this quick?
Emma had to forcibly suppress a sigh. ”Well, I guess we should… go claim a room.” she glanced around at the other members of Experimental Group B. Would they notice? Would they care? How would this affect her reputation?
Yep, Emma realized, I still look like a total idiot.
"How exactly do you propose we 'claim a room'?" Marcus asked, slightly oblivious to whatever connotations such a statement might provide. "I didn't exactly bring any luggage with me - unless you want to have Determination carve our initials into the door or something"
Was it considered a save if you hadn't even realized you'd fumbled in the first place?
”Well, I was just thinking, like, uh, a sign or something... but hey, I haven’t really used these guys outside of punching stuff, so might as well get used to it…” and just like that Determination appeared beside the duo, ”Hey, can you go st-” Emma was caught a little off guard by Determination’s appearance. He looked… different. Was that a face? Where before was a blank visage now lay holes that mimicked the appearance of Human eyes and a slit in the shape of a slight smile. It creeped her out, a little, to be completely honest. She cleared her throat, brushing it off quickly, ”Can you go stand over there?” she said, vaguely gesturing towards one of the doors.
This way they wouldn’t actually have to actually go into the room… alone… together... at least, not yet.
After a moment of consideration Determination followed his orders, marching towards the door ceremonially. Emma gave a small shrug to Marcus, ”That works, right?” Emma paused for a moment, ”So, what now?”
Marcus was similarly caught off guard by Determination's appearance, dispite the fact he'd made the suggestion in the first place. There was something...creepier about his appearance - he thought the dude was a vague shadow before, and there was just something that was off.
Or maybe he'd just never gotten to see the guy up close.
"Nice! Tulpa bouncer!" Marcus said, holding his hand up to high-five the shadow creature as he walked by, becoming slightly disappointed when he was inevitably left hanging.
He tried to regain some of the dignity that was lot at that sight, looking around the penthouse. "Well, we're here in this fancy-schmancy penthouse for a few days, in the heart of the nation's capital! I'm sure there's some fun little thing we can do around here!" Marcus said, the excitement starting to creep into his voice.
”Probably is… although I doubt Washington cares all that much for us.” Emma shrugged, taking a glance at one of the penthouse’s many electronic screens, examining the list of amenities. ”Buffet, gym, computer lounge… oooh, an arcade. Says here there’s also an orchestra and a bunch of restaurants and stuff.” Emma gave Marcus a quizzical glance. She’d let him give his input, although she already knew where she wanted to go.
"Orchestra?" Marcus said, wandering up behind Emma to peek over her shoulder. There was a slight hint of curiosity in his voice; he'd never actually been to a live orchestra preformance before. That was something that only the rich and fancy people got to enjoy, but here it was, a possibility dangling before him like a carrot on a stick.
Emma turned around, giving Marcus a long glance. "Orchestra it is, than?" Emma wouldn't have pegged him as a classical music fan... she certainly wasn't, but if this was what he wanted, well, she'd go along with it.
Marcus caught her glance, quickly reverting back to deflection mode. "I mean, if you're cool with it, sure! I've never been to a big event like that, myself - more of a statement of curiosity!"
"There's always that gym date I owe you," he said, grinning slightly. "As long as you're not afraid to see how out of shape I actually am."
Emma narrowed her eyes. ”Hard no. Orchestra it is.” she said without a hint of hesitation. She still wanted to go to the arcade, but hey, she'd go along with him.
He was a little bit taken aback by the suddeness of her answer, but he tried not to let it show. Maybe she just didn't actually like excercise, and he'd missed the punchline.
"Well, it looks like the first show is tomorrow. You want to go then?" he asked, still reading some of the times over her shoulder.
”I don't know, I've got a pretty busy schedule.” Emma said, voice dripping with sarcasm, ”Y'know, meeting some guys now that we're out in the big wide world. But I'll see if I can pencil you in for old time's sake.” Emma said, turning back and giving Marcus a wink.
"Oh thank god," Marcus said, wiping his brow. "I was worried that I'd have to be up all night filling out the required forms and trying to bribe your secretary!" he added with a chuckle, giving her a playful nudge.
”Oooooh, sorry, did I give you the impression you wouldn't have to do that? I said I'll tryto pencil you in, but y'know, it's a lot more fun to make you work for it. Good luck though, I sure hope that you can get a spot.”
"Well then, I guess I'd better get started on those!"
Night fell, as it always does, and Marcus found himself wandering back towards his room as the darkness started to encroach. His talk with Max and Brent had put him a little bit on edge, and he was all too ready for the night to be over.
His and Emma's room, he was reminded. The dark guardian signaled that much at least. He stopped at the door, looking the figure up and down, waving his hand in front of the thing's face. Or at least, the part that looked the most like a face.
"God you're creepy..." Marcus muttered softly as he opened the door.
Emma had been sitting on the bed when Marcus walked in, staring at her phone. A look of surprise crossed her face when he walked in, but it quickly turned into an awkward smile- she almost didn't believe that they were really sharing a room, but she brushed that thought away.
”Hey, how's it goin'?” she said as normally as possible, locking her phone and returning it to her pocket.
"Oh, you know. Glamourous rockstar life!"
Boy was that a lie. Between the angry glares, getting punched in the face by Siena, and everything else that had been going on, his life felt like it was everything but glamourous or rockstar.
He sat down on the other side of the bed, flopping onto his back and looking at Emma, who was currently upside-down. He was trying not to think too hard about what they were looking at for tonight; they were dating, and sharing a bed together because they had to. There wasn't anything awkward about that. It's not like they were going to...
Right?
"How's it going in your neck of the woods?" Marcus asked, trying really hard to keep his face from flushing.
”Hmmmm... y'know, the usual. Party every day.” the phone in Emma's pocket buzzed, but she ignored it.
Now wasn't the time to worry about that.
”Tired?”
"A little bit, yeah. Been a long day!" he said, giving a wide stretch and accompanying yawn as he did so.
Accounting for the fact that he'd already not been sleeping so well, he was more than just a little tired. He was physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted. Probably spiritually and financially exhausted too, if the day's shopping trip was any frame of reference.
"Are you not? Seems like all-day party would wear you out something fierce!" he asked, almost quizically.
I've hardly slept since we arrived.
That was what she should have admitted.
”No, I am.” she agreed instead, ”I guess... I'm ready to sleep whenever you are.” a half-truth; at the very least she had felt tired. No, she nigh-constantly felt tired. But she wouldn't sleep, she knew that much.
"I mean, it's not like we have to sleep together..."
Goddammit.
"I mean...You don't have to go to sleep as soon as I do!" Marcus stammered out quickly. "You can stay up as long as you want, it's not like you have to follow my granny-sleep schedule!"
He could already feel his face getting red. This was not going well.
Emma rubbed the back of her neck, ”Oh, uh, I mean...”
Did he not want to sleep with her? She didn't know what she had expected.
”Right. Uhhh... well, I dunno, I might putz around a bit before going to bed...”
Did she really just use the phrase 'putz' around?
Did Emma really just say 'putz around'?
That was a thought that was quickly shaken from his mind as he rubbed his hands across his face. Hopefully Emma would see it as tiredness instead of the actual thing he was trying to wipe off: exasperation.
It wasn't awkward. It shouldn't have been. So why was it?
He snaked his way up to the headboard of the bed, where the multitude of pillows impeded his progress.
"Well, I'll be here whenever you want to come join me!" he awkwardly stated, his sudden grin trying to hide the sudden burst of shame that richocheted throughout his body.
Why was he making this so much worse?
Oh go this was weird, wasn't it?
Oh god this was so weird.
”I've never slept in the same bed as a guy before.” she blurted out.
Wait, what did she just say? Her face reddened. ”I mean- just- oh, geez, sorry, I'm making this... really awkward. And... I just... don't want to seem like I'm being weird, or like I don't want to... sleep... with you...”
Oh thank god, she was freaking out about it as much as he was.
Marcus let out a small sigh of relief upon the revelation; it was nice to know he wasn't the only one making things worse than they actually were, and now that he knew where they were both sitting, it was a little bit easier to do damage control.
"Okay. I think I see the issue here." Marcus said, putting his hands out in the universal sign of 'calm down'. "We are both psyching ourselves out, here."
He sat up fully, scooting over to be a little bit closer to Emma.
"We're just sharing a bed for a couple nights. It doesn't have to be wierd or awkward or anything. You've never shared a bed with a guy, I've never shared a bed with a girl, it's fine."
”Right. You're right. It doesn't have to be weird...”
Emma turned to look at him. She felt a little bad, she wasn't exactly lying to him but what she said was misleading.
It didn't matter now.
”Alright... maybe... maybe we should just go to sleep than, huh?”
"That's my plan!" Marcus said, notably more enthusastic now that the air had been cleared somewhat.
"You however, can putz around as long as you'd like." he added, putting enough emphasis on the word to make his mockery clear.
Emma sighed, face full of exaggerated sadness. ”You're right to make fun of me, 'putz' is a dumb word.” With that she decided to lay back on the bed, ”No, I think I'm fine right here.”
Marcus laid back too, chuckling slightly at a thought he just had to make vocal.
"God. We fought monsters. Literal monsters. You'd think this normal shit would be easier."
”You'd think, huh?”
Emma had a smile on her face as she scooted over just a little closer to him.
Emma | Callan
𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟙𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝕎𝕒𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕥𝕠𝕟 𝔻.ℂ. / / ℙ𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕖/𝔸𝕣𝕔𝕒𝕕𝕖 / / ~𝟙𝟡𝟘𝟘
Collab with @Diggerton and @Baklava
Callan left her room again. She'd lost count really. It just seemed so unbearably weird to be rooming with Lawrence. Not that it had anything to do with him personally, but... there was only one bed. One. Pressing the palm of her hand to her forehead, Callan stared up at the celing for a moment, collecting her thoughts before throwing up her hood and making her way down the hall. She hadn't given herself much time to explore yet and, amidst all this ritz and glamour, she was sure she could find plenty of things to keep her mind occupied.
Emma had also been searching for something to distract her, although she wasn't sure if she was looking for respite from the stigma or Marcus. Of course she had nothing against Marcus himself, she still had qualms with the idea of rooming with someone else at all... especially with only one bed. Lying there pretending to sleep wasn't exactly fun. So she took off out the door searching for... something. She wasn't exactly sure what.
It was lucky that she spotted Callan. ”Hey! Cal!” she called out eagerly, jogging towards the girl.
Jumping slightly, Callan spun to face Emma with a poorly rehearsed smile. "Oh-- hey Emma," she grinned, reaching up to nervously tousle her hair, completely forgetting that she'd hidden it beneath her hood. Recalling their last conversation, Callan wondered if Emma was aware of who she'd ended up rooming with on accident. Well aware of who Emma was staying with, Callan hoped to avoid that topic altogether.
She tried to revive that comfort she'd felt around Emma back at the hospital, but it was taking a moment to kick back in. "Er-- what's up?"
Emma gave a wide smile, ”Just trying to get out, y'know... small room. Say, now that I mention it, we were supposed to hang out, right? Do... you want to do that?”
"Yeah, sure!" Callan mentally kicked herself. Small room? What did she mean by that?
"Alright, great." Emma paused for a moment, thinking, "But where to goooooo..." Emma already knew where wanted to go- where she had wanted to go with Marcus.
"There's an arcade down in the basement... how's that sound?"
"An arcade? Seriously?" She smiled, feeling more sincere as her interest was immediately piqued. Getting to know Emma was like a double edged sword of sorts. She liked Emma as a person... but she wished she didn't. And the more she seemed to learn about Emma, the more she seemed to like her. Aside from Callan's suspicion that she didn't like Ernie for whatever reason-- something she definitely hadn't forgotten from their last conversation.
"Alright," Callan consented, still smiling. Their friendship was probably inevitable at this point. All steps towards moving on, she supposed. "Let's go."
”Perfect. I wanted to check it out as soon as I saw it but Marcus wanted to go to the orchestra.” Emma's tone was joking, a slight laugh trailing her statement as she turned towards the door.
"Oh," Callan laughed along nervously, but didn't have much else she dared say about that. Maybe because an orchestra might be more romantic? In spite of her attempt to mentally defend her roommate's choice, she found herself more in agreeance with Emma. The arcade did sound like more fun.
"So you haven't seen it yet?" she asked as she followed.
”Nope.” Emma answered plainly, ”I sure hope it's a proper arcade and not like... a dark basement room with, uh, skee-ball and an air hockey table.”
"Ha," Callan shook her head, "After everything else I've seen, I gotta say. My expectations are pretty high. If they don't have an entire DDR lounge, I'm filing a complaint."
”I know, right? This place is fancy as hell, they better not be cutting corners where it counts.” a coy smile came to Emma's lips, ”By the way, I bet I could kick your ass at DDR.”
A competitive spark suddenly burned within as Callan narrowed her eyes back at Emma. "Oh really?" she grinned confidently, "I wouldn't be so sure."
”Oh man, it is so on.”
It was only a couple of minutes later that the duo arrived at the arcade, a mecca of flashing neon lights and sounds. A hodgepodge of machines stretched out before them, running the gamut from popular classic games to more recent innovations- and, of course, Dance Dance Revolution. There were also, unsurprisingly, the regulars to worry about- the reception was about as one would expect, a mixture of fearful glances and outright hostility, but Emma had resolved to ignore it. Instead she turned to Callan, ”I shouldn't be surprised, considering where we are, but this place is niiiice.”
"Whoa." Callan felt the dimmer lighting inside the arcade meant it was probably fine to lower her hood-- it was hot and uncomfortable anyway. An awed smile crept over her face as she took it all in. She noted the fleeing people, but tried to act is if it didn't bother her. Acting normal was probably the best thing she could do at this point. Not that it was incredibly difficult in the face of so much fun.
"You can say that again," she smirked, stepping forward eagerly. Spotting the DDR machines, she turned towards Emma with a wicked grin, "You ready to lose?"
Emma returned her grin in kind, ”In your dreams.” Emma sauntered over to one of the token dispensing machines, swiping her card and filling her hand with the arcade's faux-currency. As Emma got the tokens, Callan waited by the game.
Inspecting the buttons, she moved to step onto the platform, but paused for a moment.
Emma walked back to the machine, inserting tokens, ”You can pick the song, because I'm a generous god.” Emma said with a small wink.
"You don't think I'll break it, do you?" Callan asked.
Emma gave Callan a blank glance. ”Oh geez... uh... I don't know.” a malicious twinkle came to Emma's eyes, ”If you do who's going to stop a couple of Subs? Especially with a big scary Aberration by your side... and we can always get them to bill the Institute.” Emma said quietly.
Callan tested the platform with one foot, pressing lightly. "Oh, right," she smirked, shooting Emma a sideways glance, "You're terrifying." With a heavy sigh, she pulled a hairband from around her wrist and began tying up her hair. "Well, I'll have to be careful, then. No way am I letting you off that easy."
As Cal started moving through the song selection Emma did her very best to give her an intimidating gaze, ”Absolutely! I can be very scary when I want to be.” Emma said, voice full of mock indignation.
"I'll believe it when I see it," Callan replied, finally landing on one of the more intermediate songs. "Just in case you need to warm up," she jabbed as the intro music started to play.
”Oooo, Cal, if you're too scared to start somewhere harder you can just say so. Don't have to talk all tough in front of me.”
"Bitch, you wish I was just talk!"
Emma gave Callan a quick glance. Hoh boy. Emma wasn't going to comment on that aloud- the game was starting and she had to focus.
The first several arrows flew across the screen as the beat picked up. High pitched singing and an electric rhythm brought Callan's banter to an end as she focused on moving her feet (and not crushing the stage).
Emma did the same, attention on the beat and the multi-colored arrows both in front of her and beneath her feet- at least she didn't have to worry about breaking the stage beneath her.
Concentrating on the weight of each step, Cal feared it might have some ill effect on her score, but that didn't seem to be the case. A godsend considering how well Emma seemed to be keeping up. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed their scores were almost perfectly synced. Her mouth twitched into an amused smile as she squared her jaw and continued.
By the end of the song, Callan even found herself a little out of breath. The screen glowed with a 'tie' verdict. Pleasantly surprised, but also dissappointed by her own performance, Callan shook her head incredulously.
"Jesus, Emma. Okay-- best two out of three?"
Emma found herself out of breath as well- more so than Cal. But she managed to tie, at least. She gave the girl a cocky smile, ”Alright- just because you got lucky.”
The second round managed to end in the same fashion. Callan pushed a sweat drenched strand of aquamarine hair behind her ear and scoffed in frustration. "I can't fuckin' believe this," she chewed the inside of her cheek. Her mind was all DDR techniques and rhythms and she tried to think of how she might improve her score.
Emma wiped the sweat from her brow- okay, things were getting a little too serious. Cal was clearly getting frustrated and that gave Emma an idea.
She would throw the final game.
That was what a good friend would do, wasn't it? Winning wasn't as important to Emma and although she did enjoy egging her on it wasn't worth it if Cal was taking it to heart. ”Phew! You're sure making this tough for me- Round 3, than?” it wouldn't be hard to lose- a misplaced step was all it took since they were so evenly matched, it would be near impossible for Cal to notice, so that was the course of action Emma committed to.
Emma's remark immediately put Callan on the alert. She'd been in too many competitions not to notice the shift.
"I'm making it tough for you?" her lips curled into a smile that was anything but happy or convinced. She sighed heavily, shaking her head again.
"You know, when you say it like that, it sounds like you've been going easy on me," she smirked playfully, though one could sense the slightest bit of venom. She didn't like victories that were handed to her. Recalling her sparring match with Sander, she knew this wasn't anything quite that extreme, but something about it being Emma...
"Anyway, I think there's only one song that's gonna break this tie."
Spinning all the way to the bottom of song select, Callan landed on the song with the hardest difficulty. The demo on the side of the screen played a lightening fast tune as several overlaping arrows whizzed across the display. "I can't even do this one perfectly," Callan admitted, rolling her shoulders in anticipation.
”Wow, really going all out for this one, huh?” Emma wasn't ignorant to Cal's mood, now torn between whether or not to throw the match. If it was obvious it would make Cal angry, that much was clear. ”Maybe I have been holding back.” she said with a slight smirk.
That was a total lie.
”Ready when you are.” she said, deciding that she had to really try this round- Callan wouldn't go for it otherwise, she decided.
"Tch!" Callan gently shoved Emma's arm in response to her comment before pressing select. It was going to be an arduous round, but there was no way she was losing this one.
youtube.com/watch?v=A20CVS-lQ8s
The song started out slow, giving Callan a chance to collect her thoughts. Emma was joking, right? She wasn't seriously holding back this whole time? Callan couldn't help but feel that familiar and uncomfortable jealousy bubbling up again as the beat suddenly quickened.
Beads of sweat collected at her temple as she danced, refusing to look at Emma's score at all for fear of losing concentration. Unfortunately, Callan's newly reinforced motivation to win proved to be her downfall.
Her focus slipped, tipping the balance between accuracy and care as, with a loud crash and scream of surprise, her foot went straight through one of the buttons. The music played on, though the lights on Callan's side of the platform immediately went out and her space on the screen clearly started to glitch.
"Hey!" the man behind the prize counter shouted almost immediately.
"Uh oh," Callan pulled her foot out of the machine and scrambled to her feet.
Emma was in the zone- that was, she was in the zone until she head a loud crashing sounds and Callan's scream at her side. She turned, face instantly filling with surprise. ”Uh-oh.” she said under her breath.
Instantly she moved to help Cal up, giving the girl a small glance as she came to her feet, ”I think it's time for us to go!” Emma said with a slight giggle, pulling Cal behind her as she went for the arcade's exit.
Callan spared one last look at the screen before Emma grabbed her hand. She chuckled nervously through the rising sensation of guilt at having broken the machine. Though she knew she could run much faster, Callan allowed herself to be pulled along by Emma as they fled the arcade. Racing down the hall and into an open elevator, people moved out of the way quickly. She thought it curious that her heart was racing this much. Only a few days ago she'd been fighting monsters and enemy mages and here she was getting all flustered over some guy in a red vest guarding kazoos and giant inflatable orca whales?
The elevator doors closed as Callan slumped up against the back wall, more out of breath from the dancing and sudden rush of adrenaline than the running itself. To her chagrin, Callan suddenly couldn't keep herself from laughing. Holding her gut, Callan held her head in her hand and laughed until her eyes watered.
"O-oh my God," she finally managed to say as laughter subsided into breathless giggles.
Emma was in a similar state, experiencing a similar fit of giggles as soon as the door slid shut. ”Jesus, I can't believe that just happened.” she said, leaning against the elevator's polished metal wall. She wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead, struggling to catch her breath between the laughter and their sudden escape. ”Did you see the look on that guy's face? I can hardly believe that your foot went right through the thing, I have no idea what he must be thinking.”
"Oh, I feel so bad!" Callan groaned through more laughter.
”I wouldn't feel too bad- they're probably charging the Institute a fortune to keep us here, I'm sure that they'll be able to get a new one.” Emma said, the occasional fit of laughter still erupting from her. ”And anyways, they were throwing us hella dirty looks.”
"Haha, I guess you're right," Callan chuckled, "Definitely gonna have to request a super strong mat back at school if you want try challenging me again, though." Callan straightened herself up and crossed her arms. "Considering you just lost," she added with a sly grin.
Emma smiled, ”I guess I'll take that. I mean, you went so hard that you broke the game, you deserve it.” Emma wiped a tear from her eye, leftover from the laughter. ”This is kind of nostalgic- reminds me a lot of when me and my-” a moment of hesitation, ”Me and my best friend back home went to the arcade. Except instead of breaking the machine she'd just get chased out after trying to steal something...” Emma gave Callan a slight head shake, ”We weren't very good kids.”
Callan was just about argue that she really had won. By five points, according to what the screen had said before they ran. But as Emma mentioned her best friend, Callan curiously allowed the change of topic, noting the girl's brief hesitation as she spoke.
She thought for a moment about her friend Gaby back home, but she'd never really given much thought to whether or not she considered herself to be "best friends" with the spitfire latina. It was a little embarrasing to admit, but in more recent years, she really didn't leave herself much room for those sort of relationships. Not that anything besides basketball or schoolwork was usually encouarged.
"Do you miss her?" Callan found herself asking, immediately hoping she hadn't poked at a sensitive subject. So far she hadn't met many people at USARILN who liked talking about their past. By now she really should have developed a better filter for asking questions.
”I...”
Emma didn't really know the answer to the question, or at least didn't want to admit to herself that she did.
”I don't know. We left in kind of a weird place. I... I always thought we'd be together forever, I guess.” Emma gave a deep sigh, ”But I guess that's just wishful thinking. Especially when USARILN decides to scoop you up.” Emma glanced at Callan, ”You kind of remind me of her, actually. She had the same color hair as you.” Emma idily commented.
Unexpectedly, Callan felt her cheeks flush at Emma's comment. A reserved smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as an apology crept out.
"Sorry," she said, noting the sudden plunge in the mood.
”Don't worry about it. It's nice to talk about home... it's almost easy to forget that stuff with everything that's going on.” Emma rubbed the back of her neck, ”And anyways, I had a lot of fun, even if our game did get cut short.”
"Yeah," Callan agreed, though part of her wondered if forgetting her own home would be easier than not. She chuckled as she untied her hair, twisting the elastic between her fingers as she spoke, "Yeah, sorry about that, too." She paused for a moment before continuing, hating herself a little more with each spoken word, "I bet you could convince Marcus to go down there with you if you told him about the new broken DDR machine exhibit I just installed." She forced another small laugh, not quite meeting Emma's eyes as she made the suggestion.
”Yeah, I'm sure, although I don't think they'll be too welcoming. They barely tolerated us this time, I bet they'll remember how we broke the shit out of their expensive machine next time.” Emma gave a small laugh, ”It's not a big deal. There are plenty of arcades in the world. Rich people suck anyways.” Emma said the last part statistically, a small laugh following.
”Wouldn't be the first one I've been blacklisted from. Like I said, bad kids.”
"Hey, I dunno. At least you don't have crazy hair. I bet you could still sneak in. Use those stealth skills you picked from from your life of crime," she shrugged just as the elevator finally slid open.
”Oh, yeah totally. I've pulled off a few heists in my day.” Emma said, stepping out of the elevator. ”Well, this appears to be our stop.” Emma said hesitantly, a smile on her face.
"Oh boy-- you'll have to tell me all about it sometime," Callan grinned. That should have been her cue to leave, but instead she hesitated, staring off in the direction of her room with a small sigh.
"Well," she tousled her hair, "Guess I'll see you later, then."
Emma nodded. ”Right.”
She bit her lip.
”Or... well, things did get cut short down there. I could tell you about it now... if you're not busy.”
"Uh," she definitely wasn't going to mention her blond upperclass roommate as the reason why she was less than thrilled to head back. But at the same time...
"You sure? Marcus isn't waiting on you?" she asked with small, lopsided smile.
”Pfffft, Marcus can wait.” Emma joked, ”Really though, it's totally fine. He's not.” Emma said, taking a seat on a nearby couch, on of the many that filled the extravagant penthouse, ”I'm down for story time if you are.”
"If you say so," Callan shrugged, secretly grateful for the excuse to keep loitering around. She flopped into the opposite facing couch, placing her feet up on the coffee table with much more care. "Alright," she said, nestling into a more comfortable position, "Obviously you'll have to start with your craziest story. Did you guys ever get busted?"
Emma nodded, ”Of course we did. We were a bunch of dumb kids, not master criminals.” Emma stretched out on the couch, ”Unfortunately I never was cut out for our life of crime. Riley did the whole 'rebel teen fuck the system' thing and I just kind of followed along. I think I was better off as an honor student, but hey, we had fun.”
Emma sighed, considering, ”Where to start... hmmmm... oh, shit, I got it. When we'd have our shitty high school parties it was always up to me and Riley to score the liquor- she had a pretty good fake ID and we were also the only ones brave/stupid enough to steal it if that didn't work.”
Emma shifted in her seat again, suddenly sitting up, ”Now I should note here- and this is the really dumb part-we totally didn't have to this. I had a big sister who was always down to get us that stuff, but Riley wanted to get that dumb adrenaline rush she got from that shit.”
”So anyways, getting to the actual story. We were on one of these liquor runs and everything was going smoothly, we were at one of our usual spots and I think the guy always kind of knew we weren't of age but put up with it anyways. So, everything was fine, BUT Riley always did this thing where she'd try to have the longest, dumbest, most banal fucking conversation she could with the clerk... something I'm pretty sure she did solely because I told her not to and she knew I hated it.”
Emma leaned in a little, ”Here I am burying my head in my hands while she's telling the clerk all about her cat's vasectomy- about how it was more humane than castration, and the process, like I said, just the worst possible conversation she could think of and she just went on and on and on. We must have been there talking to the guy for, like, ten minutes... until, of course...”
A dramatic pause as Emma leaned a little closer.
”A pair of police officers walk in. I guess they were having a retirement party and needed to pick some stuff up, doesn't matter, point is I start visibly freaking out while Riley continues rattling off her story, not missing a beat. But they instantly notice us. So, of course, they come up to the counter and start listening to Riley... aaaand she just keeps going. Doesn't even care. Just keeps talking about her cat. But, of course, one of the police officers clears his throat and asks...”
Emma put on her very best gruff police officer voice, ”M'am, can I see your ID?”
”Well, I look at Riley and she looks at me and I look at her and then she just runs. Just, like, out of there with the bags, right for the emergency exit and before I know what's happening I'm running too. Now, we go out the door and are in an alley. Of course, one of the police officers is right behind us and the other ran out to grabs their police car and block off one end of the alley.”
”Basically, we're like, fugitives now.” Emma joked with a small laugh.
”Naturally we're flying down for the opposite end with the guy on foot right behind us, but he's like, not to be rude, kind of fat, so we were fiiiiine. Now, you think that New York's finest would have better things to do than be chasing down a couple of girls stealing liquor but these guys seem to really have it out for us- probably wasn't the first time they saw Riley, knowing her. So, the guy in the squad car is coming down the alley blaring his sirens while the other one is shouting for us to stop. Naturally we don't, but that's not all. No. What does this girl do? Of course, Riley, smart as she is, shouts out...”
”FUCK THE POLICE!”
”And I'm just like, 'dude, what the fuck?' Of course this pissed off the officers chasing us and in some burst of blind rage-fueled adrenaline the guy on foot charges forward and tackles Riley. I'd say it was the police officer being a dick, but she kind of asked for it. So, to make a long story short we ended up in lockup, charged for underage drinking, resisting arrest, and...”
Another dramatic pause.
”Assaulting an officer. Assholes managed to tack that one on, although I think it was just to scare us more than an actual charge. We were minors so we didn't face jail time, but our parents were not happy to be paying the mountain of fines that we managed to rack up. Plus we had to do a bunch of community service. It sucked.”
Emma gave a long sight.
”So, that's the time the master criminal got caught.”
By the end of Emma's story, Callan was literally seated on the edge of the couch cushion. "Jesus, you really were a criminal," Callan laughed, "My parents would have skinned me alive." She laughed again, realizing how her parents would probably be irate if they'd so much as caught her hanging out with anyone like Emma and her friend. She found more humor to the thought, spitefully resolving that if they weren't going to give a hoot about her, why should she care about their rules anymore?
"Oh, have no fear, there was plenty of skinning when I got home." Emma added quickly.
In any case, USARILN certainly didn't seem to care about underage drinking. What with all the drinks here and the bar back at the school. A tender mercy for the students, Callan supposed. Considering any day could be their last. Still, the thought of drinking made her feel like she'd be doing something wrong. Even after several parties with Gaby, that feeling hadn't gone away. Engrained by a strict moral code... or maybe just strict parents.
"So," on the topic of alcohol, Callan instinctivly spoke a smidge softer, "You haven't ever, like. Gotten super blackout drunk before, have you?" She smiled and sat up, suddenly a little embarrased for speaking like her parents or some adult might overhear as she adjusted her voice. "My folks were pretty anti-alcohol," she chuckled sheepishly, "Well-- pretty anti-a lot of things actually."
Emma's mouth turned into a line, an embarrassed smile creeping onto her face. ”Totally. I mean, like, we were pretty into that suff. It's a little stupid looking back at it- not a little stupid, really stupid. Riley may have been the teenage rebel but I was kinda the partier.” Emma gave a disgruntled groan, ”I was always kind of pissed when my mom told me off for hanging out with Riley, but she really was a bad influence. Always pushed me to do that stuff until it went too far.”
Emma's expression turned into one of subtle anger, ”Trust me when I say that your first experience with alcohol should not be eight shots of whiskey. Couldn't just do the cliché thing and raid mom's liquor cabinet, no, she had to pull me into that shit.”
Callan laughed, somewhat surprised by this different side of Emma-- one she hadn't really expected, either. "Hey, at least you've got lots of great stories to tell now," Callan reassured.
”Sure do.”
And so Emma told them.
There was the time that Riley stole her cousin's car, insisting that they both run away- which they did, for approximately three days they stayed in New Jersey until they decided it was shit, after which they promptly returned. Emma to this day swears up and down that if she knew the car was stolen she would've never gone.
And then there was the time where Val took them to Governors Ball- that was a fiasco and a half between the fact that they didn't exactly get permission and that they didn't strictly have tickets. After all, Emma justified, they were like 300 dollars and sold out super quick- for a group with a loose moral fiber it was an easy choice to sneak in. Of course the guards didn't take to kindly to that, and Val's attempts to convince them that she was in one of the bands playing did not end well. Emma maintains that if you look like you belong they'll usually let you pass- it was just bad luck. She had her guitar and everything, but instead they ended up going for ice cream.
But it wasn't all bad, Emma had to say- Riley and Val always had her back. One time there was a rumor floating around school that Emma had gotten drunk and done something very unsavory with one of the boys from the football team (Totally not true!) so they found the girl who started the rumor and shoved her in a loc-
”Wait, that still makes them sounds kind of shitty, huh?” Emma said with a sigh. ”It wasn't always teenage hijinks and shit. We had a lot of good times too- like, the normal kind of good time.”
Callan made for a rather engaged audience, enthralled by each new story and detail. She shook her head in disbelief, "I don't know. I don't think I can ever look at you the same way now, Emma," she sighed with a serious expression.The short facade was broken as she smiled mischeviously.
Emma leaned back, stretching. "Yeah. Now you know all about my sordid past." Emma sprawled out on the couch, lying down, "Talkng about all this makes me feel... not sad, but..." Emma frowned a little, suddenly changing her train of thought, "Cal, you think we'll eve-"
Emma's train of thought was broken again, eyes drifting towards the clock, "Geez, it's late. I've gotta get to bed." she said, abandoning whatever she was about to say.
Callan blinked back her, wondering about Emma's unfinished question for a moment before glancing at the clock herself. "Oh. Uh, yeah..." Truthfully, she could've fallen asleep on the couch right there, but any motivation to joke waned when she remembered who Emma was rooming with. She cleared her throat as she stood up, crossing her arms behind her head in a stretch of her own. "Alright, well... see you around," she said with an awkward laugh.
”Definitely.” Emma said, laughing with none of the awkwardness, ”This was a lotta fun.” a crooked smile dominated her face.
A beat as Emma hesitated.
”Well, goodnight.” Emma said, turning for her- her and Marcus's door.
Callan smiled in agreement. She watched Emma's retreating figure for a moment before heading back towards her own room. It had been a lot of fun. Something between a smile and grimace tugged at the corners of her mouth as she anxiously ran her fingers through her bangs and walked. Of course it was fun. Emma was fun. He wasn't dating her for no reason.
Still, through the jealousy and weird heartbroken heaviness in her chest, she kind of liked that someone like Emma liked her. Or thought she was fun at least. After hearing her stories, Callan couldn't help but think about how tragically boring her hobbies were in comparison.
Reaching her room, she noted that Lawrence was already asleep on the couch. A spot he'd volunteered to take. Quietly, she slipped off her jacket and climbed into bed. Several unwelcome thoughts laid waiting for her there-- quickly expelled as she stuck in her headphones and curled herself around the extra pillows with her phone. Scrolling through Netflix, she recalled her conversation with Emma back at the hospital with a small smile before banishing the thought completely.
9/18
The sun had disappeared from the sky by the time Emma left the Penthouse- she needed clothes, specifically a bikini, at least if she planned on getting any one on one time with that jacuzzi. It was too bad she didn't have her scarf, with it no one would even notice she was an Aberration. Her memories turned back to the first battle, where it had been used a makeshift bandage on Kusari- even though it had only been two weeks it already felt like ancient history.
Emma let out a sigh, her breath turning frosty on the night air. She couldn't afford to worry about the past, not now, not with so much happening. For now she'd need to rely on the cover of night and the ignorance of the locals. If only she at least had foundation- that was how Riley always did it, she remembered, before quickly pushing the thought away. She reminded herself to forget about the past. One day at a time was how she needed to take things now- if she could just keep going like that maybe everything would be okay.
And anyways, she had a bikini to get.
"H-Hey! Excuse me, miss! Dammit, Terry, stop slowing us down!"
A man wearing a thick coat over his suit raced up to Emma, his cameraman easily keeping up just behind him. His hair, which looked to have once been neat, was slightly ruffled from whatever exertion he'd just gone through to make it to the Aberration. The microphone in his hand indicated that he was a reporter, though the amount of time it took for him to catch his breath again showed that his network probably should have chosen someone else for the job. He stood in front of the girl for a second, hands resting on his knees as he wheezed out a "c-could we...whew...could we get an interview with you, miss?"
Emma turned in surprise. A slight smile came to her lips as she recognized who he was, but she quickly turned it into mock annoyance. With the state things were in she hated that she was a little eager to get interviewed- memories of the Precursors on TV came to her when she thought about it, but the rational side of her knew that this would be nothing like that. She have a small sigh, taking a glance at her watch. Her face turned to a grin as she rubbed the back of her head. It was all about persona with these things, wasn't it?
”Hmmmm... well, I guess I'm in no rush. Sure.”
"Really? That's great!" the man beamed and stuck his hand out, "Darren Lingard, WUSA News! Lovely to meet you! Can I get your name? How old are you? Do you want to move some place less crowded? You're not scared of crowds, are you?"
The cameraman--Terry, presumably--watched Darren as he rattled off questions like a machine gun, clearly not amused to be working with such an unprofessional.
"Don't scare her off," he spoke succinctly.
"Sorry!"
Emma's eyes widened a bit at the plethora of questions. ”Wellll...” Emma accepted Darren's handshake, giving a slight nod, ”Emma, seventeen, and this spot is fine if it's all the same to you, because I'm quite comfortable around crowds. I think I answered that in the right order.” Emma joked, giving a small laugh.
Darren, quite frankly, gave her the creeps, but she wasn't going to say that.
"You ever been interviewed before? Been on TV? You really have the face for it!" Darren continued yapping as Terry set up on the side of the path.
Emma gave a slight giggle, wide smile remaining firmly on her face.
God, she really didn't like this Darren guy.
”Can't say I have, Darren. Thank you, though.” she said enthusiastically. All about image, she reminded herself, after all, it wasn't just about her. It was only mostly about her, but if she could be a face for Aberrations like Marcus was for Subs- well, it was a good thing.
"Ah, a first-timer, huh? Same here!" he chirped, continuing the conversation until Terry finished his countdown with little audible warning. He turned to the camera, "Good evening, folks! Darren Lingard here with an exclusive interview with Emma, an X-marked subnatural from...uh..." he hesitated, realising that he had forgotten to ask the more important details during his chat earlier, "USARILN East, right? Part of the Wisford operation?"
Emma tried not to be discouraged by the 'first-timer' comment, but she was already getting sinking feeling her stomach. Despite that, as the sudden countdown began Emma's smile only grew. Emma didn't skip a beat despite being a little surprised at how uninformed Darren was, ”Correct.” she said with an enthusiastic nod.
"Cool and, uh, what was your role at Wisford?"
”I was part of the 'Offensive Support' team. We were... I guess we were kind of the frontlines, such as they were. We were meant to draw in the bulk of the enemy's forces while another team moved behind them to attack their leader.”
Darren's eyebrows shot up at the statement. Behind the camera and aware of the incoming flood, Terry groaned silently.
"So you were right in the thick of it, huh? How did you feel? Was it scary? Di--"
Terry made a cutting gesture across his throat and mouthed 'slow down'. Darren nodded sheepishly.
"Yes, can you tell us what it was like out there?"
Emma's mood still refused to dim, ”Yes, we were right in the thick of it. There were a lot of hostiles and things got pretty crazy- we weren't the first group sent out, in fact, the fight was going for some time before we arrived.”
Now, it was only now, that her smile began to fade, very intentionally.
”Of course hearing about it through the TV doesn't really give the right impression- it was scary. It was a real warzone. There were a lot of casualties- of course many of Wisford's citizens, but also Subnaturals from our teams. It was a great tragedy for everyone involved.” Emma said, trying her best to sound thoughtful.
"Ah yeah, we heard the reports. An incredible tragedy. But tell me, how many on your team got taken out? Were you there when it happened?"
Emma bit her lip. Now was the big moment, huh? ”Like I said there were multiple teams- from ours there was only one death, a small miracle considering how many of us there were, but it doesn't feel that way. I was there- it was awful.” her voice started to grow shaky.
Her eyes started to water as she brought up a hand to wipe away the budding tears, ”Sorry.” she said hoarsely, ”She was... just a child. Fourteen years old. It's... it's not the first time one of us has died, but... she's been the youngest, by far. No one should have to go the way she did, believe me. I'll... spare you the graphic details, but it wasn't something I'll forget easily.”
A sympathetic nod. "Of course. I'm sorry to bring up something so painful. Did you know her well?"
Emma pursed her lips. ”We've only recently been brought together, about a week and a half before Wisfrod, but I'd talked to her during that time. We'd trained together, of course, to prep for missions like these. She... she was a nice girl. Eager to help. I... I wish I couldn't known her better. Even if we weren't that close, we were still all in it together. A team. It wasn't our first battle, and it's always sad to see a teammate go down like that. In a situation like the one we're in it doesn't matter how well you know someone or if you get along with them, y'know? We want to make sure all of us come back safe.”
"Mm, it would be painful to lose anyone in that manner. Now, the subnatural race still has many mysteries that have yet to be uncovered. But one thing we know for sure is that X-marked subs like you seem to have a big affinity for violence. Did the death of your teammate affect your battle performance in any way?"
A hint of confusion came onto Emma's face, ”Well, that's a... complicated question. The X-mark doesn't affect us all in the same way. If the question you're asking is whether or not seeing her die had a mental toll, of course. It's hard to focus on fighting when you're trying to figure out what just happened to the person in front of you, if she's still alive, and if you're going to be next. Now if what you're asking- and forgive me if I'm misinterpreting your question- is if the sight of her death was somehow 'exciting' because of the X-mark the answer is certainly a 'no'. I highly doubt that any of the X's on our team were enthused by her death.” she said as diplomatically as possible.
"Oh, really?" Darren looked confused for a second before Terry hissed a loud sigh from behind his camera, "Oh! No, of course, I would never imply anything so--ahem. I was just following up on pre-confirmed information. But you mentioned that the X-marks affected subnaturals in different ways? Can you tell us more about that?"
”As you said, our race has many mysteries and neither we nor USARILN fully understand the relationship of X-marks and violence. It's a complicated issue and until every party knows more I'd recommend referring to the institutes official stance on X-marks, lest I speak out of turn.”
Damn I'm smooth.
"Alright, fair enough. I know you can't speak for all X-marks here, so I guess I'll narrow it down. How do you get affected by your mark? I'm assuming it doesn't have much to do with violence, judging by your earlier comments?"
Emma's smile was starting to come back. ”Sorry Darren, but this probably isn't nearly as intriguing as your viewers might hope. Perhaps I misspoke when I used the word 'affects'- it seems to me that there is some correlation between violence and the mark, and I've suspected that for some the X-mark does in some way change their behavior, but I'd regard that as an unsubstantiated rumor. For myself there is no 'affect'- after all, as you can probably tell, I have no such tendencies” it didn't matter what she said as long as she buried the lead on the stigma- she was eagerly hoping for a change in topic.
"I see," Darren said, looking childishly disappointed, "So you would say that you're one of the more reliable X-marks in your team? That the behaviour of some of your similarly marked teammates might be detrimental? There's got to be some who do get affected, right, unlike you?"
Emma shook her head, ”That's not what I'm saying at all. Ignoring the fact that it would be unfair to comment on the reliability of my friends, it's also worth mentioning that the X-marks I refer to don't seem to be prevalent among the USARILN population. When I speak of people who might be negatively affected by the mark I speak of extremists- Cat's Cradle, The Senators, etcetera. It's also worth noting that what I'm saying is entirely speculative- what I do know is that in my experience I would consider those I'm allied with to be extremely reliable, and I'd trust any of them with my life.” it was a total lie, but it would also likely be good PR if Experimental Unit B went public.
"It's good to hear that the USARILNs have their subnatural population on a tight leash, eh?" Darren joked before realising what he'd just said. He spoke quickly in hopes that it would be forgotten, "Uh, moving on. While we're on the topic of you, could you give us a brief rundown of your powers?"
Emma merely gave a curt nod at Darren's little joke before continuing, ”Gladly. It's not anything too complicated- I can summon these, er, shadow creatures is the best way to describe them. After that they'll follow out any order I give them. Some of them have additional powers like being able to force pull things or explode.” now Emma's smile turned into a coy grin, ”If you want you can meet one, Darren. Only if you're willing to, of course. You'll be in no danger, I promise.”
An excited puppy-like look crossed the reporter's face. "Oh, absolutely! A demonstration would be great!"
Emma nodded, ”Alright.” she raised her hand dramatically and snapped quickly. Instantly Determination appeared by her side, his newly formed hollow visage staring blankly ahead. ”They're not real lookers, but they get the job done.” she said with a small laugh.
Darren inspected the creature from all angles, awe radiating from the man. Terry tensed up as another slew of questions was launched. "Incredible! Do they have names? How many can you summon? You said they have different powers, what powers does this one have? What are the restrictions and stuff? Do they have a timer? Range limit?"
Emma took a breath before answering, ”Yes, they do have names- there are five of them: Determination, Charity, Love, Devotion, and Happiness. The names were their choice, not mine.” she said with a small laugh.
”I can summon three at any given time. As for this one's power, as you can see he looks a little bulky- he's armored, unlike the rest of them, meaning he can take more hits and also hit harder than the others. And for restrictions there's no timer or range limit- the only limiting factor is my ability to communicate with them, as they only function with orders.”
" 'Their choice'? Can they speak?"
”No,” Emma corrected quickly, ”It's intuitive. Like, I just have a sense that that's what they're called is the best way to explain it.”
"But this intuition sense doesn't help you with communication? You need to give your orders verbally?"
”Correct. As far as limitations go it's a fairly easy one to work around- we've experimented with controlling them remotely, for example with a phone, and that works without issue. It's proven to be one of the more versatile powers on our team, although don't mistake that as me saying it's better than others- there are a lot of very strong Subnaturals in our unit.”
"Oh yes, your unit, tell us more about them! You mentioned training earlier but are there other USARILN-mandated activities you do together? Do you get along better with your fellow X-marks than the white streaks?"
”I get along with everyone,” Emma said happily, ”I don't find that what mark we have comes into consideration when we're making friends- I get the feeling we're going to be working together for a long time, so I think all of us are making an effort to be friends.” the words came out easily, even if it wasn't exactly true. ”In terms of the exercises we do it's the obvious stuff- physical training, team building exercises, the obvious stuff.”
"Wow, you certainly do come off as the friendly sort! But a group made up of that many teenagers? I don't believe it's been that long since I was that young but if I recall my high school days correctly, surely there'd be some tensions in a group of youths as big as this unit? Not all of them can be like you after all."
”Well, of course, tensions always rise when a group works closely, especially in circumstances like ours. We all have our share of drama- but at the end of the day I think we all try our best to get along. You can't spend your time worrying about teenage drama when you're going off to fight monsters, right?”
"Haha, very true. Continuing on the topic of your unit, two boys from your team have been making quite the impression recently. One 'Brent Roless' and 'Marc'? Do you have any thoughts on them, particularly that special interview with the one making rounds on the internet as 'Time Scar'?"
”Well...” Emma started hesitantly, ”Brent's a nice guy. Friendly guy.”
He told me to kill myself.
”Marc is...”
Would he feel bad if she wasn't willing to say they were dating on TV? Would he feel bad if she did?
Fuck it.
”Well, he's my boyfriend.” Emma rubbed the back of her head sheepishly, still smiling- if anything smiling more, her cheeks flushing slightly.
Another raising of the eyebrows quelled by a harsh, preemptive glare by Terry. Darren nodded. Nothing too personal, got it.
"Well, I definitely can't say I was expecting that development. It's good to know that two fine young subs can still find happiness in the most troubling of times. I suppose that you would've related to your boyfriend's words to a great degree, then?"
”Certainly. If we have this power it's our responsibility to use it for good, for the betterment of the public- there's a lot of terrible stuff going on in the world right now, so it's a privilege to have the ability to do something about it.” it was an easy lie, one that made sense-if she could make the Aberrations look better she would.
"Fine words from a lovely girl," Darren grinned and turned back to face the camera, "Well, there you have it, folks! A refreshing take on the subnaturals of the infamous USARILN East. You've certainly shed a lot of light for us today so thank you, Emma, for your time, your demonstration, and for being an overall delight to interview. I'll let you get back to your shopping now."
Once the feed was cut, the reporter turned tto the girl and took her hand to shake it excitedly.
"Thank you so much! This was the best interview I've ever done! Aw man, the network's gonna love us."
Terry looked as if he wanted to point out that it was the only interview the younger man had ever done but chose to remain silent on the matter, offering a simple "good work, you two" instead.
”Right- it was nice talking to you too, Darren.” Emma gave a small wave to Terry as well, turning on her heel to finally go get her bikini, a satisfied smile on her face.
Emma | Marcus
𝕄: 𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟙𝟠, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝕎𝕒𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕥𝕠𝕟 𝔻.ℂ. / / ℙ𝕚𝕟𝕟𝕒𝕔𝕝𝕖 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣 / / ~𝟚𝟙𝟘𝟘
Collab with @Diggerton @Chasers115
By the time Emma's date with Marcus rolled around she was ready. She'd dressed to the nines- the use of that phrase relative to the fact that she was a child soldier with limited access to dresses and other fancy clothing- by the time she went to go find Marcus.
In hand she had a makeup kit- figuring that whatever fancy D.C. orchestra had set up shop here wouldn't take kindly to subnatural guests she'd already covered up her own X-mark and was prepared to do the same for Marcus's streak.
It didn't take long to find the scarred boy in the relatively small penthouse. She approached him with an enthusiastic smile, ”Look at me,” she said, pointing to her own neck, ”Think I pass for a regular?”
Marcus meanwhile was only dressed to the eights - but it was still enough of an upscale from his usually disheveled appearance to be a refreshing change of pace. He'd managed to find a shirt with buttons (which he'd had to undo twice now because he'd buttoned it up unevenly), but one that didn't seem to require a tie. Regular blue jeans pulled over his ankle cuff and a pain belt though; and despite the fact that he'd accidentally rolled his cuffs up unevenly and hadn't been able to do a damn thing with his air, he thought he was rocking it.
He'd just finished redoing his shirt buttons for the third time when Emma walked in, immediately pointing to her neck to show off a very drastic change. It was makeup of course, but he hadn't realized what a defining feature the mark was until it wasn't there any more.
"Hey! Look at that!" he said, leaning in slightly for a better look. "I'd certainly say so; you'd hardly be able to tell unless you actually knew what you were looking for!"
Emma held up the makeup kit. ”And now it's your turn. Something gives me a feeling they won't be too happy to host a couple of ne'er-do-well subnaturals.” Emma gave him a wicked grin, ”Ever worn makeup, Marcus?”
"Not on purpose." Marcus joked, not allowing Emma the time to counter that statement, instead continuing right on without waiting for a reply.
"You gonna make me look all purtyful?" he asked, placing his hands to his chin and batting her eyelashes at her.
”Don't think the makeup will do enough to help you in that department.” she quipped, pulling the foundation from the bag and moving closer to him, ”I am going to need you to hold still though, think ya can manage that?”
"That's pretty harsh. Guy might get his feelings hurt with a comeback like that!" Marcus quipped, taking a seat in the chair nearby and sitting up straight.
"Let's find out together, why don't we?"
”That's encouraging.” she said, beginning the process of hiding the white splosh that seemed to dominate his face- well, would dominate his face if it wasn't for the scars. She bit her lip as she began. There was something she needed to clear up now, while she had the chance. ”I ran into a reporter earlier today.” she started, making it sounds like an absent minded comment.
"Oh?" Marcus said, trying to avoiding making to much movement, his eyebrows only rising slightly in piqued curiosity. "I imagine there are quite a few of those around here." he said almost absemindedly, the words soft due to his stiff position.
"You gonna be showing up on the big screen next?"
”Probably. And... he asked me about Time Scar. And I said we were dating.” Emma tried to sound as casual as possible, hoping that Marcus wouldn't care.
Marcus turned his head a little bit in surprise, if only by a miniscule amount - inevitably enough to mess up Emma a slight amount.
"Man, we really are gonna end up being the best thing since Sparrow and Kadabra, huh?" he said, giving a stifled chuckle and returning to his frozen pose.
That'd be probably be up everywhere shortly, which meant...
Oh no
Which meant Max and Sammie would shortly be screaming in his ear.
Something for him to look forward to.
An internal sigh of relief. He wasn't mad. Of course he wasn't, why would he be? ”Hell yeah. I think I did a pretty damn good job too, really captured that star quality. You should take a page from my book, learn how to do this celebrity stuff...” Emma gulped, ”Well, aside from the fact that I almost... probably did tell them way too much. I almost spilled the whole Arbiter/Aberration thing. Probably wouldn't make me look too good in front of our fellow mages.”
"What, spilling inter-personal classified secrets that our little friends on the messageboards desperately don't want us to talk about? You think that would make them a little bit huffy with you?" he asked, resisting the urge to give a dismissive wave.
"Naaaaahhhhh"
Emma gave a small huff, ”Oh yeah, I'm sure they'll be cool with me spilling the secrets of an entire race of people. Man, with as many Subs as there are you'd think someone would have already said something. How do the Regulars not already know this shit?”
An entire race of people. The message was clear enough for him to know Emma was talking about them as subnaturals, but...were they truley considered a different race althogether? Did they not deserve to be called humans also?
There was a moment Marcus silently contemplated this, before speaking up again. "I mean, we're not exactly forthcoming with these things to eachother, and most mages see the 'normal' people as enemies." he said, giving an air quoatation around the word 'normal'.
"Plus, I think we're the only group to really get any media attention outside the 'cursors and Cradle."
”You're not wrong.” Emma sighed, ”And why is that exactly? Shane's group must've done stuff like this before, why are we on the news and they aren't? I feel like the Institute is up to something. It's no mistake that we're being publicized- I dunno, am I just being paranoid?”
Marcus gave a slight shrug, realizing his mistake and going back to being still. "I've got no idea. Hell, I don't even know how much stuff that kid's group has done. Certainly never heard of them before meeting up with the guy."
"Em, I don't think there's such a thing as being too paranoid anymore. Especially when a dude with invisibilty powers or teleporting knives or god-knows-what other powers could come through the nearest wall at any point."
"Paranoia ended they day DC destroyed the world." Marcus muttered softly, a slight hint of bitterness in his voice.
”Right.” a slight frown came to Emma's face. She'd keep her own thoughts on DC to herself, ”These USARILN guys sure love their conspiracies. You should see the shit they have below the medical building, place is a freak show.” Emma gave a small huff, ”And that's where Savannah is going to end up.” she had her own hint of bitterness in her voice now.
"Mmhmm." Marcus hummed distantly, his mind already starting to wander a bit. Emma had told them all about what happened below the hospital - and they'd all promised to come back alive.
Which, in a fairness, they had. Everyone who had been there for that promise was milling about the penthouse or the city, all with their own agendas, but still alive. It was just the one who had not made it back: and for a reason that he knew all too well. He could feel Emma's gaze on him, just as he'd felt Brent's. Was this another attempt at inquisition? Had Brent set her up to this to try and figure out what had actually happened?
The thoughts raced through his mind, only noticable by the slight beading of sweat on his forehead, and the rapid speeding of his heart.
Emma wiped the sweat from his forehead.
If she hadn't been so close to his face she might not have noticed, but she did. ”It's the middle of fall. It's not hot in here. What's up?”
"W-well..." Marcus started to stammer, mind reeling to come up with some sort of explanation. "Trying not to fidget that much, is all!"
A sudden thought sparked into his mind, which quickly came out as a hurried addition: "Plus, there's a cute girl right in my face. How am I not supposed to get a little nervous?"
Perfect. Flattery. Always worked.
”I've been a lot closer to your face and you didn't seem so embarrassed last time it happened.” Emma said coyly.
”But fine, forget about it. Flattery always works. I'm almost done anyways.”
And it took not even a second longer for Emma to finish. ”There.” she said, pulling a hand mirror from the kit and holding it up for him to inspect, ”Feel normal for once?”
Marcus looked himself over in the mirror, the surprise on his face evident. Scars, but no white mark? That was a sight he'd only seen once or twice; there was something odd about it - a strange mixture of before and after that left him slightly off put by it. Still, Emma had done a good job in disguising his telltale marking.
He gave a low whistle, turning his head to look himself over from another angle. "Look at that! I look like a normal kid!"
Again.
"I'd say that's a mighty fine job!" he added, looking up to Emma.
”Of course it is.” Emma said with a satisfied smile, putting the mirror away.
Got plenty of practice.
She took a quick glance at her watch, ”We're gonna be late if we don't get a move on, so let's get going.”
Emma's gaze suddenly dropped to the cuff on her ankle. "Shit, that's a give away too. Looks like I better put on a longer dress."
The grand theater was a stately, polished wonder of modern architecture stacked to three stories with hints of art nouveau inspirations in the patterned arches of the windows and foliage-reminiscent embellishments winding their way across the colorful panes of stained glass. It was a more recent reconstruction after a passing rampage from a winged monster had leveled that sector of the city before the Precursors had neutralized the threat.
Either humanity was foolishly defiant or eternally optimistic--and perhaps those two aspects weren't necessarily mutually exclusive--but extravagant quantities of taxpayer dollars had pooled into that structure and the venue was now almost a sacred location for the performing arts.
Marcus and Emma waited patiently in line as the well-dressed guests ahead of them presented gold-rimmed tickets to the staff standing just inside the double glass doors of the entrance, Marcus playing up the 'gentleman' in the fancy atmosphere, arm crooked slightly to the side for his lovely date to hold on to. Even with the entrance growing nearer, he was amazed at the decor of the place - just when he thought the penthouse would be the fanciest thing he ever saw, this came along and blew it out of the water. He couldn't stop himself from letting a soft "Woooow..." escape his mouth.
It didn't take long for him to focus on something else entirely though, the small strip of gold passing between hands having caught his eye. A cold pit sunk in his heart, and he very slowly and softly leaned over to whisper to Emma.
"Hey, random question: you not able to conjure up a pair of tickets or anything, are you? Because we might have a slight problem."
Emma accepted Marcus's arm, soaking in the opulence of the concert hall. She wasn't quite as affected as Marcus was, there were certainly buildings of similar grandeur in the rich burgs of New York City, but still, the concert hall was damn impressive. She'd seen the destruction of the old one, the fight between Precursor and monster, on the news. No doubt the new building was a symbolic gesture by the government about the resilience of mankind or some shit, and a good one at that.
Emma gave a slight sigh at Marcus's question, filled with mock irritation, ”You're lucky you have me, y'know?” Emma said, producing a pair of tickets from her purse, ”Because my powers do, in fact, include the ability to produce magical tickets on demand.”
Emma's eyes narrowed, ”Or maybe you're just lucky to have someone that thinks ahead.” she said with a slight smile, handing the tickets to Marcus.
"I'd like to think I'm lucky for all of the above reasons." Marcus said, grinning at her and grabbing the tickets she offered him.
"And probably for a few other reasons." he said with a wink, turning to hand the gold rimmed papers to the doorman as they approached.
"Welcome to the Pinnacle Theater!" the man greeted as he handed back their ticket stubs. "Thank you for choosing us as your source of luxury entertainment for the day and we hope you enjoy the show! Your box seats come with personal service staff, so please don't hesitate to ring the small bell on the endtable for anything you need!"
On cue, two waiters approached them, towels slung over one arm while they escorted the two students up the stairs that wound around the outside of the main concert hall, leading them to a box positioned at the perfect intersection of sound and sight lines to view the entirety of the waiting orchestra. The waiters remained politely outside the box itself, tucked behind the nearby curtains.
Emma gave a coy smile to Marcus as they were escorted up. ”Sure, the box seats were a little expensive, but we're not the one's paying for it, right? We're celebrities now, gotta act the part.” Emma said, giving Marcus a slight nudge.
"Well you sure do know how to go all out, I'll give you that much!" Marcus said, taking a seat in one of the best spots in the building.
"But maybe don't say that last part too loudly. I'm not sure I want to be found out while surrounded by a thousand people, with no escape route." he whispered, nudging her back.
It began with a glance from one of the neighboring boxes. Then a whisper from a seat below. Soon, dozens of pairs of eyes had their attention ripped from the orchestra and were instead pointing up towards a box seating a teenage couple. The lights dimmed as the conductor started the overture but the commotion soon became far too disruptive for any sort of music to be appreciated. With a few quick flicks of the wrist, the orchestra went silent as the rather irritated conductor turned to the audience to find out what the commotion was. Their gazes led to a pair of subnaturals who had been making rounds on television. He was unsure of what to do here. The same could be said for the audience members. Everyone simply remained in their seats, unwilling to force the pair out but not bothering to hide their whispers either. A stalemate, for now.
"Like that. Basically exactly like that." Marcus muttered, sliding down into his seat.
Emma glanced at Marcus. And then she glanced at the crowd, the conductor, and Marcus. ”Woah, not my fault. They probably just remember us from the news.” she whispered harshly.
Shit, what now?
There was no doubt they realized who they were. There were likely some that weren't sure. But most had figured it out. That left two courses of action- leaving or waiting. Marcus slid further into his chair and Emma was about to do the same, but...
Maybe there was a third option.
It was a bit of a gamble- people would be pissed if they noticed the absence of the X-mark, but hopefully it was dark and they were far away enough that it went unnoticed. They were in private boxes, right? It couldn't have been too noticeable.
Emma backed away for a moment, feigning that she was checking her phone- she quickly wiped off the makeup in one motion, hoping that no one had noticed. She stepped back forward, ”Wipe off the makeup. Subtly.” Emma said to Marcus under her breath, giving the audience a small wave and a wide smile- hopefully the people were willing to put up with the two subnaturals.
The whispers only grew in volume as the interruption continued, even more so when Emma waved. Though Emma's wipe was unseen to most of the floor seats, a woman in the box beside them grimaced in disgust. Yet, she remained seated, opting instead to gossip heatedly with her husband seated next to her. No direct action to the teenagers had been taken yet. The conductor was now arguing with a stage manager. Outside the box's exit, the two waiters assigned to this particular box were audibly arguing, though they both clammed up as a pair of security officers arrived. However, they made no move either. The burly men simply waited by the doors, ready to take action should the commotion require it.
Marcus followed Emma's lead, seemingly coughing into his hand as he backed up a little bit, wiping the makeup off as he brought his arm up to his face. Still, he couldn't help but think that this wasn't the best of ideas - it had been made very clear that the people of the Capital weren't exactly the most friendly here, despite any attempts to make them seem more sympathetic.
The arrival of guards at the doors simply seemed to enforce this point, as Marcus was sure they were about to get forcibly ejected from the building. His eyes darted from them to Emma, waiting to see what her next move was.
Emma looked at him. ”If the guard's haven't kicked us out I'm going to guess they're for our benefit- I mean, if we just wait they have to stop eventually, right? Either that or they're getting ready to pull out their pitchforks.” she said quietly. ”Do you want to get out of here?”
"Well, as much as I'd like to not be intimidated and stay for your money's worth, I'm very intimidated right now." Marcus said, eyes flicking around to all the eyes staring back at him.
"But if you're willing to stand your ground, I'm certainly not going to leave you behind."
Emma shot him a quick glance, "I'm intimidated too, but hey, if they do decide to lynch us it's probably safer in the box. Behind the guards." she said, remaining unmoving.
Yet another minute of unsubtle bickering between the conductor and the stage manager. The orchestra remained at a standstill, the musicians' activities varying between whispering like the audience members and sneaking in some section practice during the break. One violinist even took his phone out to sneak a picture of the subnaturals but was quickly snapped at by the conductor. Eventually the leaders manage to come to an agreement and the conductor tapped on a microphone to request silence once more. The begrudging decrease in chatter followed and the focus was finally taken off the subnaturals. After another tuning session, the conductor restarted the overture, this time without any interruptions.
Emma looked at Marcus with a wry smile, "See look? I told you, we gooood."
"Yeah, I guess..." Marcus said, starting to sit back up in his chair as a slight wave of relief went over him. "Glad the conductor's apparently on our side!" he said, nervously chuckling.
The first half of the show passed in tense silence, but at intermission a large portion of the floor audience abandoned the concert, exiting quickly while shooting fearful, disgusted looks at the subnatural teenagers in the best box seat. There was a brazen nerve in how the two had remained after the opening fiasco and it struck a nerve with the citizens of Washington. More balked inwardly (and occasionally in loud whispers to their companions) that the local police force had let such a disaster pass in the first place. Others privately condemned the security guards, the concert hall staff, even the musicians for putting up with such a travesty. The mounting anger in the hallway even convinced several of the musicians to pack up and leave with the departing crowd, most notable the first violinist. Despite the offended commands of the conductor, the young woman shook her head and left, pointing upwards at the two subnaturals while arguing, her voice washed out by the murmurs of the crowd, but meaning clear enough.
When the din died down and the concert hall attendance resembled a box office flop, the conductor turned to look at the two USARILN students briefly, the expression on his aged, but dignified face inscrutable. With a sigh, he turned back to the remaining musicians, conversing briefly with the second violin.
The music resumed after the intermission, though none of the people who had left returned. Without their knowledge, Marcus's and Emma's waiters had also vanished.
Across from them, in a box on the opposite wall, a well-dressed man with olive skin and amber eyes watched the two calmly, a faint smile on his face as if the entire disaster had only been an amusing part of the show. He gestured to his own waiter, who leaned down carefully to take an order before disappearing into the back.
When a chilled flute of champagne returned, he raised a brief toast to the pair before settling back into his seat for the second half of the concert, sipping his drink with an elegance born from a lifetime of luxurious accommodations.
Emma had been watching the show with an obvious discomfort. Even under normal circumstances she would've been uncomfortable in the grandiose concert hall, the feeling was only amplified by the fact that everyone around hated them. The thinning audience didn't go unnoticed as well- she knew D.C. didn't like their kind, but she felt reviled here, like a villain.
Maybe that's what she was.
The man with the champagne didn't go unnoticed either- Emma returned his toast with a curt nod. ”At least we have one fan here.” Emma commented dryly, contempt clear in her voice. What an awkward fucking position this was. Of course, when Emma called for a drink of her own, no one came to serve her.
Being a Sub really sucked.
When it came time to leave Emma spared no time in getting up, quick to tug Marcus along with her.
”That went well.” she said, hurrying for the door.
"I'll say..." Marcus said, a little dejectedly. This was his first time being at some grandiose event like this, and while the scenery was nice, the actual performance and general ambiance left much to be desired. Not the best of first impressions - something that he probably should have expected, but still stung a little bit.
He gave one last look over to where the champagne man had been sitting, before snagging Emma's arm as she moved to leave. "Hang on a second. he said, walking past her and up to one of the security guards that was still hanging around.
"Pardon me, my good man; but is there a back exit or like...an employee exit we can sneak out of? Some way for us to get out without getting mobbed and making your lives difficult?" he asked, putting on his nicest 'child asking a parent for something' voice.
"Employee exits are for personnel only," the guard looked down at the subnatural with barely-hidden disdain. "The theatre doors are faster anyway."
A polite and succinct way of telling the kid to scram.
Emma was right behind Marcus. She just wanted to leave- quick. She'd had her fill of the orchestra, and was hoping against hope that this wouldn't end up on the news. She was pretty proud of her performance during the interview, and she didn't need something marring that so quickly.
”Alright, you heard the nice security officer, let's go.” she said lightly, hooking her arm around his and lightly tugging him towards the exit.
"Yep. That didn't work. Time to bail." Marcus said, slinking away from the guard, his metaphorical tail between his legs.
He quickly walked with Emma towards one of the nearest exits, trying desperately to keep his head down and not make any eye contact with anybody, hoping that they'd be able to get out reletively unmolested, and getting ready to run otherwise.
Emma also kept her head down. She wasn't ignorant to the hate-filled glares and loathsome whispers of the crowd around them. Emma and Marcus did nothing but try to enjoy a nice night out, but now... the girl felt nothing but contempt for the unmarked Regulars. She shot Marcus a quick glance as they exited the building. ”This is bullshit.” she muttered quickly under her breath.
Emma was glad to finally be back in the penthouse- among their own kind. She didn't want to hate the Regulars, but what the hell had they done besides hate her? Her parents, their guards, their fellow orchestra goers, even fucking Timothy, it was all starting to get to her. She came into the penthouse hurriedly, letting out a disgruntled huff as she shoved open the door.
”I can't fucking believe those people just...”
Emma couldn't find the end to her sentence, instead letting out a groan as she found a free couch to sit on.
"Yeah. I agree. That was a little bit..." Marcus said, plopping down next to her and staring at the ceiling. He didn't need to finish his sentance; the thought was enough.
"To be fair though, wiping off the makeup in full view of literally everybody...perhaps not your greatest plan of the night."
”And what's the alternative? They notice we don't have marks and lynch us? They didn't need them to recognize who we are.” Emma said, voice filled with exasperation.
"I mean, we could have just backed up a little bit, out of view of the balcony or something, and just stayed there. Instead of peeking back over and waving to everyone." he said, flopping his arms in equal exasperation.
Emma bit her lip, ”Yeah, that probably would've been a good idea, I wish I'd heard it, but someone was busy becoming one with his chair while I was trying to figure out what to do. I didn't exactly have a lot of time to decide, and it seemed like a lot better of an idea than sitting and waiting.” Emma said with a huff.
"My bad, I figured 'maybe try and not show off your mage-ness in the place we're hated the most was understood." Marcus muttered, the irritation clear in his voice.
He paused for a moment; there was no reason for him to be snapping at Emma - it certainly wasn't her fault that they'd been ostracized. He was just irritated in general; a little bit snippier than he needed to be.
”Oh come on, you know that they knew we were mages- did the fact that everyone was staring at us and whispering not make that obvious? You've been all over the news and you've got a pretty distinct face Marcus.”
"No, you're right." Marcus said, starting to cool down slightly - or at least starting to realize that he should direct his frustration somewhere else. "I guess it was a pretty stupid idea for two of the most well-known people in the country to go to one of the most crowded places in the country. Huh?"
Emma sighed.
”Yeah.” she agreed plainly.
I wanted to go to the arcade. she though bitterly, but didn't say.
”I just wish people didn't hate us so much.” she said, looking down at the ground. She didn't need to know the reason why there was so much contempt for subnaturals- she knew that, lived that.
"I hear ya..." Marcus said, running his hands down his face. "Here I thought that maybe I'd be able to make people like us a little bit more - show a friendly face and hope that people would be a little bit nicer...but it almost feels like it's gotten worse." he said despondantly.
"Maybe that's just the city though..."
Emma frowned. ”People are people.” she commented idly, ”I've seen people that've hated us all my life. They have their reasons, their convictions. We can't change their minds over night.” but she wished, more than anything, that they could.
There was a long moment where Marcus just sat, mulling over the thought in his head. She was right; he even had his own preconceptions that weren't going to be changed by simple words, so it wasn't like he had any room to judge other people for theirs.
"Next time, we need to bring masquerade masks." Marcus said, raising his arms up and stretching.
”Next time we're sticking to CC1.” Emma decided, letting out a slight yawn, ”They might be weird, but at least they don't do that.” Emma paused for a moment, ”I mean, really though, why are we in Washington? Think they're taking us to meet the big shots?”
"Yeah, as obnoxious as they can be, they at least seem to apprecitate us. Even if it's just because we're a relatively normal sight or something.
"As for Washington, who knows? Maybe we're all going to get medals or something. A big plaque built in our honor, right across from the Washington Monument." Marcus said, swiping hands as if displaying a landmark that didn't exist.
”Oh yeah, I'm sure the good people of D.C. will love that. American heroes Abraham Lincoln and Marcus Howell, that'll go over well with this crowd..”
A slight smirk came to Emma's face, ”I'd love to see the look on their faces.”
"I think I'd look pretty distinguished in a stovepipe hat!" Marcus said, giving Emma a regal pose and subsequent grin.
”Oh yeah, for sure.” Emma said, laughing.
Maybe this was why she liked him- she wasn't thinking about the concert hall anymore. It was easy to forget about that stuff with him. That was why she liked Riley too- everything felt a little more normal.
You don't deserve that.
Emma pushed the thoughts away. She'd thought far too much about her for today. ”Hey... even if our date did suck, I'm glad you're here.”
"I do what I can!" Marcus said, his regal pose only getting cockier before he let out small laugh and settled back down to his normal stature.
"Funny thing is, I was about to say the same thing."
”Oh yeah, sure, whatever you say.” Emma said, disbelief in her voice evident.
"No! It's true! Even if had to be publicly humilated in front of thousands of people to do it; I'm still glad we actually got to go out and do something together. I'm glad we got to do something together."
And any emotion and chance Marcus had at actually seeming sincere and romantic went right out the window when he added, "And it's not just because I recently learned you can conjure box seat tickets!"
Emma ran a hand through her hair, laughing a little. ”Right.” she agreed with a crooked smile on her face.
In that moment, she was happy.
Or, at least, that's what she told herself.
9/19
Emma | Allison
𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟙𝟡, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝕎𝕒𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕥𝕠𝕟 𝔻.ℂ. / / ℙ𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕖 / / ~𝟙𝟝𝟘𝟘
Collab with @Diggerton and [@VarinousNW]
It had been a strange week for Allison Revel. A devastating battle, the death of a friend, a unfortunate romance, and too much luxary for one person to handle. Luckily, the massive penthouse suite had an indoor pool and jacuzzi, the perfect method of relaxation, thankfully viable even in the fall. Allison had picked up a bikini on thursday for just this purpose.
Come to think of it, Allison hadn't gone swimming since she was a kid, though that applied to most things. She lost quite a lot when her parents split up.
"It isn't the time to think about that stuff. Just relax, Allison, just relax." Allison muttered to herself as she lowered herself into the warm water of the jacuzzi. She let out a deep sigh, and drank in the silence.
Allison wasn’t the only one interested in the jacuzzi- Emma had desperately needed to relax. It had all been too much, she needed to close her eyes, drift away, disconnect herself… and she needed to be alone. That wasn’t going to happen in her room- her and Marcus’s room, that is. So, instead, she sought the comfort of warm, bubbly water. Of course, it was her luck that there was someone else there.
Emma had a bikini of her own. During their short stay she’d taken the time to sneak out and get one- she might as well look good if she was going to be walking around like this. When she left for the store she still feared hostility of the regulars- it really was too bad that they'd caught her earlier.
But anyways, it wasn’t like she could go into the jacuzzi naked.
She took a cautious stepped towards the water. She barely managed to recognize the girl from the flag game- last time she had met her they were fighting each other. ”Um, excuse me, Allison? Mind if I join you?”
"Oh." Allison turned to face Emma. It seemed like she wasn't going to get her quiet relaxation so easily. "Yea, I don't mind." Allison sunk further into the water, leaving just her head exposed. The only time the two of them had met was when Ernie stabbed Allison in the eye, with Emma's help. The brunette couldn't help but feel slightly annoyed at her presence, but she had made up with Ernie, so why couldn't it be the same for Emma? Besides, she looked pretty good in a bikini.
”Right. Thanks.” Emma sensed that she wasn’t exactly wanted, but she still wanted to get in the jacuzzi. Maybe they could both just sit in silence? Emma eagerly stepped into the water, taking a seat. She gave Allison a polite smile, but for now remained quiet.
Allison expected there to be conversation, or something at least, but instead the two of them sat in silence for a good while. Allison tried to allow herself that relaxation, soaking in the quiet afternoon air, but having the other girl near her was bothersome, and not due to Emma helping Ernie stab her in the eye. Allison's stigma seemed to be quite the fan of girls in bikinis. It's hard to relax when you're sexually frustrated. Allison's face was beet red as she forced herself to look at anything but Emma.
Emma hadn’t been paying much attention to Allison. In fact, she was doing everything she could to pretend that she wasn’t there, leaning back against the concrete with her eyes closed. She only opened them as she shifted her weight, attempting to find a more comfortable position, and that was when she noticed Allison’s apparent nervousness. Emma hesitated to mention it, but after a moment of consideration she spoke, ”Er, Allison, is everything okay?” Emma asked hesitantly.
"Y-yea, I'm fine," Allison said quietly.
Emma gave the girl a curious glance, but didn’t pursue it.
…
Silence.
…
Well, she had to say something.
…
Suddenly the potential reason for Allison’s perceived awkwardness dawned on Emma. ”Hey, Allison… by the way, I should’ve said this sooner, but, uh… that whole thing with Ernie, during the ‘game’ they made us play… that was crazy. I didn’t think he’d do something like that… just… sorry, that was kind of my fault.” she said with a slight frown, trying her best to sound regretful.
"It's fine," Allison said calmly, still looking away from Emma, "You did what you had to do. Already made up things with Ernie, anyway. Turns out he's a nice guy once you get past the whole 'stabbing people in the eye thing'."
Emma nodded with a hint of hesitation, "Yeah, a good guy." at the very least her agreements sounded believable. It still irked her that everyone fell for Ernie's unsufferable 'nice guy' act, but now wasn't the time to go around spreading rumors about him.
...
Honestly, she'd expected Allison to say something else. But she didn't, so Emma didn't either.
...
Okay, Allison was clearly uncomfortable. Maybe it was just best if she left, "Well, I think I've had my fill of the jacuzzi. I'll... see you around, Allison." Emma said, slowly getting up and grabbing a towel.
"O-oh, Alright." Allison shrank in on herself, wrapping her arms around her legs, keeping her head above water. Emma probably thought Allison was being weird, which was understandable, she was being being weird. At least Allison would actually be able to relax.
The Aberration watched as Emma got out of the water, eyes glued on her rear end. 'Good work Allison,' she thought as she looked away as inconspicuously as physically possible. It was the stigma, right? Yea, the stigma. It had to be, it always was. Allison turned around, getting partway out of the water. "You, umm, look really good in a bikini." The words fell out of her mouth before she could even process them.
Emma stopped, turning around slowly. Her smile turned slightly awkward as a slight red tinge flooded her face- wait, that wasn't the reason Allison was being so awkward, right? She pushed the impulsive thought away, instead trying to reformulate her smile, ”Oh, uh, thanks.” she said in a distinctly not-awkward way.
"I-i'm sorry, please forget I said that!" Allison turned around quickly, and sank beneath the surface of the hot water. 'Idiot! What were you thinking? You weren't thinking. Damn it!' Allison didn't need another person thinking she was into them. It was just a harmless compliment, even if it came from her stigma. There was no real meaning behind it. Relaxation was a mistake.
Emma's face was flushing even further now, ”No! No, it's fine... I, uh, appreciate the compliment...” Emma said sincerely. She was just trying to be kind, hopefully Allison wouldn't read into it.
Allison's head rose above the water enough so that Emma's words reached her. Ok, she wasn't immediately creeped out, or pulling a Kusari. Maybe that was a good sign, but it was also immensly unclear. Was it a "Yo, let's get down to business," or a "Thanks for that completely platonic compliment, friend?" Instead of trying to figure it out, Allison dove to the bottom of the jacuzzi.
Allison disappeared. Right. Emma offered a small wave, turning back to the penthouse.
That wasn't awkward at all. said a sarcastic voice in her head.
9/20
Emma | Angel
𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟚𝟘, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝕎𝕒𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕥𝕠𝕟 𝔻.ℂ. / / ℙ𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕖 / / ~𝟙𝟙𝟘𝟘
Collab with @Diggerton and @Riffus Maximus
On this afternoon, Angélique felt drained out from her daily morning routine workout with Brent and the impromptu martial training she had with Zoe a bit later. However, all this physical workout felt good, really good. The numb aching in her muscle was welcomed instead of the throbbing headache her Stigma was giving her. Training with Brent and Siena, then talking with Ernest and Zoe, it somehow managed to make her feel good.
However, as much as she did enjoyed the company of others, Angel wanted to spend a bit of time alone to re-center herself upon the discussions she had this morning, reflect on what had been said. While the idea of locking herself up in her room, the thought of spending time alone with Allison made her feel at unease. Ever since she read the girl’s confession via a love song she had written, Angel felt a bit uncomfortable around Allison.
Instead, she figured she’d go to the computer lobby. Her smartphone’s battery was running low, and Angel kind of wanted to see what was up with the chatroom and the most recent news. Entering the lounge, the raven-haired young woman was astonished to see the numerous pieces of expensive hardware gathered inside a single room. However, not a single soul was inside, aside from one silhouette Angel recognized. Of all people, why did Emma have to be here?
Trying her best to not disturb the girl from whatever caught her attention on the computer monitor, Angel made her way inside the lounge to take a seat, as far as possible from the other Aberration. Once seated, it didn’t take time for the social-media adept to browse through the internet, happening onto forums and threads about the most recent developments about the Subnaturals issue. Comments about interviews with Christmas, Marcus and Brent, heated discussions about Subnaturals, idle banter about those iconic Subnaturals that appeared for the first time in a while on camera; it had all caught Angel’s attention. She examined with keen interest what the social medias had to say about the current situation. Even after a little while in the lobby, Angel could feel it. The general opinion had started shifting. If only a little bit, it was noticeable to an idol that had spent a lot of time interacting with her fans on social medias.
Reading over the current discussion in the Death and Taxes’ chatroom, a grin began appearing on the fallen rockstar’s face, then a small chuckle as she read aloud the name ‘Pixie’.
“Zip Zip Boy…!” Angel could barely restrain herself from laughing as she read over Marcus’ less-than-serious nickname.
Suddenly, Angel remembered something. Marcus was Emma’s boyfriend, wasn’t he? Did they both know about how impactful ‘Time Scar’s’ interview had been to the general opinion? Part of Angel wanted to keep to herself and continue ignoring the sole girl in the room beside Angélique. But at the same time, Angel wondered if she wasn’t too hard on the girl. Angel had made a blunder that evening, two days ago. Plus, if she managed to speak with Hazel and move on from what happened, why couldn’t she do the same with Emma?
Swallowing her own disliking of the situation, Angélique tried to take the first steps into dousing that burning bridge. “Can you believe that? Man, I feel bad for Marcus to have been given that nickname. Hope he’s not going to hear too much about it when we return to the institute.” Angel spoke aloud, directing the thought to Emma. Yeah, small talk could do the trick for a starter.
Emma had been doing her own research- Time’s Scar, Zip Zip Boi, whatever they called him, of course she was going to follow the discussion. Marcus, after all, was her boyfriend, and if he wasn’t going to worry about his new-found celebrity status it looked like it would be her job to track general opinion on him. But that wasn’t all she was doing today; no, she was also concerned with Vivaldi. Once again, she glanced over their small conversation. It was a risk, she didn’t even know Vivaldi, but maybe with her help they’d be able t-
Emma’s train of though was suddenly broken by Angélique unexpected comment. She didn’t notice the girl walk in, but now that she was here she’d distantly wished that she had kept quiet. The awkwardness and anger of their last meeting still permeated Emma’s mood… but she had to be polite. She could be polite with Ernie, so she could with Angel too. ”I don’t think he’s too torn up about the name. I’m sure if he picked his own he’d come up with something dumber.” she said passively.
Angélique chuckled slightly from Emma’s reply. “Yeah you’re right. I’m probably underestimating him. Knowing him, I bet he’s going to thrive on this and manage to turn this joke into one of his own.”
Angel paused, as if giving the impression she was reading something. But in reality, Angel was torn up about what to say next. It was odd. It felt weird, to force herself into talking to someone she disliked, if not hated. It made her words or even her tone feel slightly awkward. But Angélique has always been an optimist when it came to people. She never hated someone before, only disliked, and even then she’d just try to make things better with people.
“Say. What do you think of all this? Do you think people are really genuine about this sudden shift of opinion?” Angel’s voice was noticeably more serious than the carefree approach she had taken just a minute before.
Emma paused. It was a question she didn’t want to answer. But, Emma supposed, she might as well be honest about it. After all, it’s not like there were any Regulars around her to disagree.
”I know people better than to assume things are ever just going to be a-okay between Regulars and Subs. I knew a Subnatural before I awakened and I knew a lot of people that hated them before I awakened… it’s not something that just goes away. The wounds will always stay there. I’m sure some people will come around, at least a little, but… the people who fear us will always fear us deep down, even if they think their opinion is changing. People are just… people are that way, saying one thing and meaning another. People without power will always be intimidated by those with it.”
Emma sighed. It was a thought she hadn’t really vocalized before- why was it that Angel and Ernie, two people that she despised, were the only people she could be honest with? Was she just that fucked up?
Hearing what Emma had to say about the subject, Angélique could not help but feel like she was continuing her discussion with Ernie. While Emma didn’t outright give the feeling she hated Regulars as much as Ernest did, there still was that realistic view on how the world was, clashing with Angel’s wishful ideal. The world was quite bleak indeed, reflected upon its denizens’ mentality. The ex-rockstar wondered if she had been fighting it through music because she knew all too well how ill the world was, or simply because she was just one of those naïve optimistic fools.
“I… suppose you’re right. But still… do you believe it’s worth fighting to bring about further changes? Think we can seize if not a glint of that moment to turn the tables into something more favorable?”
Emma nodded quickly. "I might be a cynic, but I'm not saying everything is hopeless. Things will never be normal again, not unless DC suddenly removed our powers, but things'll get better. It's about small steps now- and that's what Time's Scar is. A small step. But an important one- people seeing us in a positive light certainly isn't a bad thing." Emma shook her head, "But that's just my opinion, and that's probably not worth much."
Realist but still hopeful. That was the sort of thing Angel was looking for when speaking to everyone. It may not seem much as an individual, but it meant a lot when that thought was shared collectively. If more would think like that, instead of being dead stubborn about their fate, then perhaps they could set things in motion in the long run.
“I couldn’t agree more with that.” Angel nodded, her eyes had long left the computer’s screen and even her seat had spun in Emma’s direction so as to face the Aberration. “I wouldn’t be so quick as to denigrate the worthiness of your opinion. An individual’s thought may seem quaint, but collectively, that’s how revolutions are born.”
“At least… that’s how I chose to fight my battles before…” a nostalgic expression crossed the fallen idol’s face, bringing back memories of how she herself tried to help Subnaturals before through public speeches about civil rights and humanity. She did manage to make a fair deal of her fans have a change of heart about the general opinions of Subnaturals, even though fear was rooted far too deeper for Angel to dig out.
"Maybe you're right Angel." Emma heard Angel turn, and swiveled her own chair to face her. "But at the same time as long as groups like Cat's Cradle or The Senators exist there'll be friction. Time's Scar won't matter if people turn on the news and see that Subnaturals caused another tragedy. That'll be what people think when they hear you say 'revolution', not peaceful protest and changing opinions. And..." Emma's gaze went down to the cuff. "Actually, nevermind. Maybe if we get into the spotlight we can change people's opinions, but I think real change will take something more... drastic."
"Exactly. We're fucked because of what others do, but..." Angel paused, swallowing her own disgust of the Precursors "We'll just have to build ourselves a reputation to match-up against those groups. Prove ourselves to be as helpful as the Precursors. Aim for something bigger even! Hell, show that we, as X-marks, can be in control, like you've told me before, and our genuine interest of helping humanity getting back on its feet."
That wasn't what Emma meant when she said something drastic. "Yeah, that'd certainly help." she agreed anyways.
That idle chat sure brought them somewhere, Angélique thought. She wasn’t sure if the tension between the two diminished from agreeing with that meaningful discussion, but she felt a bit more sympathetic towards Emma. Somehow, having a civilized discussion and agreeing on both terms brought some sort of ease to the raven-haired young woman’s mind. She didn’t expected the other girl to be so receptive and talkative after what happened two days ago. Perhaps Angel judged Emma too harshly. Then again, she really did spoke out of turn about her Stigma last time. Akin to how little she knew about Hazel.
“About being in control…” Angélique trailed off, her mood seemingly shifting to being less enthusiastic and more apologetic. “I’m sorry… about last time. Things got heated and I spoke out of ignorance, made a real fool out of myself. I guess I was being apathetic? I was wrong to say those things about you and Hazel when I barely even know the both of you. You were right, I still need to better control myself, and know more about my teammates.”
Emma rubbed the back of her neck. "It's... it's whatever. It's fine. Shit happens." the words were bitter in Emma's mouth. Half-spoken truths, but better than the whole truth. Emma shifted in her seat, suddenly uncomfortable. How long would this go on, she wondered?
There was something unconvincing in Emma's voice that made Angel flinch. Perhaps it was the bitterness of her voice that made it sound like the apology wasn't quite accepted, or it was the lack of words spoken that made the whole thing feel like it was one-sided. Suddenly, Angel felt like she wasn't as welcomed as she would have liked to believe.
Angel sighed, looking annoyed. Something dark was making its way to her mouth, but the fallen rockstar's mood wasn't quite as bad as to let this venom spill accidentally a second time. Instead, she gathered up her belongings and got up from her seat after making sure she closed the session behind.
"I must get going. See you." came out quickly from Angel's mouth. Her tone was sharp and cold as an edge. Looks like they couldn't be friends after all.
Emma stood up.
"Okay, c'mon, what the hell?" Emma said the words a tad bit impulsively. "What's your issue, Angel? Because it's pretty obvious you don't actually have anywhere to go."
"My issue? I'll tell you what it is. I'm trying my best to be on good terms with everyone. 'Cooperate' as you said it last time. I thought that I could apologize and try to make things right with you. But I get the feeling you aren't ready to forgive me yet, or just don't care. I'd rather leave instead of faking that everything is alright and keep talking for nothing."
Emma narrowed her eyes. "Oh, is that's what's happening here? I didn't realize. I thought we were just having a friendly chat, but if you're going to turn it into a fight go ahead and do that Angel. I'm just trying to get along with everyone too, and you're the one causing a problem here, not me."
"No." Angel replied coldly, her face etched with clear disgust. "If you are so desperate for a fight, search elsewhere. I'm not playing your little mind games."
Adamant on not letting herself be ticked off any further by Emma's attempt at goading her, Angelique stormed out of the room.
Emma watched the girl leave, surprise etched on her face. If it was any other time Angel might have been right, but Emma wasn't playing mind games. She was saying what she meant- Emma was willing to be friends with her if Angel was, but now? No, Emma wasn't going to let that slide. She stomped after her. Maybe that wasn't a good idea, but she did it anyways.
"You can't just walk the fuck away after saying something like that. I'm not going to let you feel good about getting the last word in, Angel, I'm not playing mind games with you, I was trying to fucking get along with you but now you're just being rude as hell. What is your issue? I haven't done anything to you, you're the one that suddenly wanted to storm off when we were just starting to get along."
Angel stopped. No, she couldn't bring that drama all the way back to the penthouse. Whatever shred of harmony there had been left back there, she couldn't allow discord to enter there if Emma was so intent on following.
"If you really mean it, then why the fuck are you not saying it clearly? I may have a shit sight, but I can hear very well. Why does it sound like you are bitter and uncomfortable when you talk to me?"
Anger had made the fallen idol's voice rise, but her attempts at self-control was weighing down on her mind, slowly crumbling the wall she had built over the past few days.
Feeling trapped, Angel could do nothing but let tears fall down from her face. She couldn't scream her rage out, lest she feared of being gunned down.
"I just wanted to get along with everyone... make this place seem less like of a prison... but I can't do it... if you want to hate me..." Angel stammered in-between sobs, looking pathetic.
Emma's eyes narrowed.
What. The. Fuck.
There was just too much... too much wrong with this. She had to. She couldn't hold back.
"So, let me get this right. What's happening right fucking here, Angel. I was minding my own business in the computer lab when you started talking to me. Okay, of course I was uncomfortable, considering how our last meeting went. But I obliged you, because, like you're saying I wanted to get along. And then you apologized to me... okay, yeah, I was uncomfortable and a little bitter when I accepted it, but I fucking accepted it. Of course I was uncomfortable, Angel, I unloaded a ton of shit on you that I shouldn't have and we both said things we shouldn't have, what do you expect? For me to act completely normally? If you just let me take your fucking apology without being a bitch about it things would be fine right now. But no, then you get pissed and walk out!? And I'm the fucking bad guy!? Jesus fucking Christ, I meant it when I accepted your apology, me being awkward is no excuse to just bitch out on me and accuse me of playing mind games! Fucking really, Angel? Y'know what? Fuck your apology. I was ready to accept it before, but now? I never wanted to hate you and I was completely ready to be friends. But this is complete bullshit, you know that, right? Sitting here and crying about it isn't going to make me feel sorry for you. How dare you accuse me of shit I didn't do! Of hating you because I felt a little fucking awkward talking to you and of playing mind games when I was trying to get a straight fucking answer about what was going on out of you. It's not my fault we're not getting along, it's because you're being a complete bitch... and the fact that you can twist this around into being because of me hating you is so fucked man."
Emma took a breath. She said too much. Way too much.
Through clenched teeth and looking defeated at the ground, Angel listened and stood silent. Did she misinterpreted someone again and it came back to bite her in the ass? Oh, the irony of things. She was so desperate to understand and be friends with everyone, she dug far too deeper into people's mind and pulled out things that weren't there.
Of all people, it took Emma to make her realize that. But there had better ways to say it than that. Unless that's what it took for Angel to understand, feel what it is to be bitched at. A taste of her own medicine. Were people too afraid of her high status as a rockstar to voice those opinions before? Ever since she came to USARILN, where her previous fame had no impact, more people kept on defying her.
But it was clear now. There was no hope for this ship now. It burned and sank, along with her pride and will towards Emma. Angel looked back to Emma after the deluge of karmic rant washed over the raven-haired Aberration. Her hateful eyes were hidden, but there was a threatening aura exuding from the girl.
"Leave. Now." Angel's voice manifested all around Emma, echoing from all directions like inside a maddening nightmare. The words were spoken calmly, but pure spite dominated each letter in a menacing fashion.
”Are... are you threatening me?” Emma's eyes lit up, somewhere between surprise and contempt. ”What are you going to do, Angel, put me in the hospital? You act all sweet and innocent, but what, you're going to shout me down?”
Emma's eyes dared her to. Emma's mouth always seemed to get her into trouble, and maybe this would be one of those times. She just had to be right.
"..."
Angel stood silent, the voices stopped echoing. A wicked grin like she never had before appeared on the young woman's face. A grin so devilish she did not realized it reflected the one that had kept haunting her nightmares every night.
"No."
Angel removed her shades, a malevolent glint in her bright green eyes sparked as she stared straight into Emma. "I'm not playing into your mind games." she repeated. The message was clear this time. If the other Aberration had lingering thoughts of goading her into a fight, Angelique won't buy it. As a matter of fact, she was the one who wanted to come out on top; to goad her, to torment her.
"You better not follow me back, lest you want to lose face in front of all your so-called 'friends'." Angel warned with a grim tone, turning her back on Emma and making her way back to the penthouse.
Emma's face soured. Angel was really starting to piss her off. And so, Emma did something she shouldn't have.
Determination appeared in front of Angel, cutting off her exit.
"We're not done yet."
Angel’s footstep stopped as Emma’s hulking monster appeared suddenly in front of Angel. Now that she was seeing it up close, it strangely looked human. Still monstrous by design, but a discernible human-like visage adorned its facial traits. At first, Angel frowned, but then it quickly changed to a smug grin.
“Quite bold, bringing the big guy out. Want me to blow it away again?” Angélique mused, her eyes set onto the massive black humanoid. Magic started pooling in her throat, ready to discharge into a sonic wave should the thing make one move towards her.
”That won't be necessary.”
Emma took a couple of steps, moving to lean against the wall in a manner that was almost too casual.
”We just need to clear a few things up. First, we're teammates, so we're not going to do this again.” Determination disappeared, ”No more threatening each other with powers. If you're mad at me than hit me, don't threaten me with your voice. Second, understand that I haven't been playing 'mind games' with you. I don't know what's wrong with you Angel, but you seriously need to reevaluate that paranoia of yours.”
Emma looked away from the singer, eyes hitting the ground.
”And finally, you should know... my friends are important to me. The most important thing to me. So don't you dare threaten my relationship with them. I won't be so ready to give up next time if you do.”
With that Emma stood up, a smile suddenly breaking out, her mood lifting with no warning.
”Alright. That's it. Hope we have an understanding.”
The magical lump in Angel’s throat loosened when Determination disappeared. As a result, she sighed, annoyed. The Stigma had been beating her mind so violently, the singer was surprised she didn’t just outright blast the damn monster away from her.
The peaceful behavior Emma exhibited should have brought more ease and comfort to Angel’s mind. But it didn’t totally do the job. On the contrary, Angel was pissed that the girl could just take up this nonchalant stance and be all calm and dandy about this situation. It made the darkened Angel feel like she was being looked down upon, as if the girl thought she was winning just because she threatened her with her monstrosity.
There were things she should have explained to Emma. About her behavior. Why she was being a bitch. The reason why she was trying to leave. But she couldn’t voice them. Her burdens were hers to bear. She could not let her weaknesses spill to a girl that was a bit too adept with her silvery-tongue, lest she manipulate her and rile her up like she did before in La Plata.
”You should know, of all people, what’s wrong with me, Emma.” Angel answered, letting a vague truth slip by. “Very well. I will leave you be, as long as you forsake me for the time being. It’s best we never speak to each other again.”
”Alright, it's agreed then.”
Emma left it at that, turning on her heel and walking down the hallway. She wasn't sure where she was going, but it didn't matter as long as it was away from Angel.
You got what she want. She won't bother you again.
Are you happy, Emma?
???
Vzzzzzt
Vzzzzzt
"Marcus better not have gotten into trouble again." she muttered tiredly, rolling over to grab her phone.
A soft gasp escaped her lips.
Hey Em.
Saw you on the news. You did good.
I'll be watching.
Were your ears burning?
Vzzzzzt
"Marcus better not have gotten into trouble again." she muttered tiredly, rolling over to grab her phone.
A soft gasp escaped her lips.
Hey Em.
Saw you on the news. You did good.
I'll be watching.
Were your ears burning?
