What she did have a problem with was the treatment they were getting. This certainly wasn't something she was expecting when they spoke about training. In fact, this seemed to be normal drills one would do to train their troops; nothing wrong with that, but it seemed highly unsuitable for training people such as her. Each of them had their own abilities to hone. If they needed troops, then by her father's sword she could and would take a hundred men and train them to be real soldiers. But this sort of training certainly was unsuited for their needs in her opinion.
But in any case, at least Regis could be trained to shoot a musket. She knew he had never truly had need to train in fighting, considering that wasn't his job and certainly nothing he was expected to do at a regular basis, but at the very least, not fumbling when trying to fill the pan with gunpowder would be an improvement.
"Hmm, perhaps this training is for the benefit of the others" She sighed, as she looked towards Regis. "Perhaps it would do you some good to learn as well."
Regies grimaced, “Oh. Oh geez.” he said abruptly, clearly not very happy at the suggestion, but he let out a quick cough, “I mean, uh, if you see fit m’lady. I can… put… an effort into that.” indeed, he had never been much of a fighter. In that aspect his aspirations outshone his ambition, “I… uh… suppose that learning such a skill might come in useful, if we’re going to keep up with this whole bond business."
“Although…” Regies had certainly tried shooting in the past to little avail, a fact that he had no doubt Rose-Marie was well aware of. “Well, I hope this goes better than last time.” he said, directing a nervous smile at her.
Meanwhile, Gabe kept a respectful distance from the well-dressed lady and her servant, glancing curiously at the muskets they were going to practice shooting. He had seen them before; many noblemen prefered them over simple bows and arrows in their hunting trips. But he had never touched them or even seen one up close. They had always been too expensive for people from his social class.
"Welcome to the shooting range," Dinn Lemare announced as he approached the group he was assigned to train. The man had shed much of yesterday's formal attire, dressed down instead for the occasion in simpler trousers, a belt with various cases and compartments, and a fitted tunic. Much of his clothes, however, remained subtly embroidered with the fine stitching of class and wealth, a reminder that he was still their superior. "It may look shabby compared to the rest of the place, but that's because we anticipate a lot of accidents. We won't be wasting the more refined locations until you lot have a better grasp of your powers."
One of his Hounds carefully handed the man a long, sleek rifle polished to a shine along its gleaming, steel barrel and black wood stock.
"Some of you may have seen these before, but this is a gun. Specifically, a rifle. These longer types are for ranged attacks but regardless of their category they are all dangerous. If you've handled a crossbow before, you'll know what a trigger is. If you haven't, this is the trigger." He grasped the barrel and the stock of the gun, holding it up horizontally so the small lever was visible. After a moment of panning the view back and forth, Lemare flipped the gun upright so the stock rested against the ground.
"Now, before you can even attempt to fire this, you need to master the art of loading it. It's a task in its own right. Pay attention."
Slowly, but with a practiced ease, he pulled a tightly rolled wax paper packet from one of the pouches on his belt, the thin cylinder filled with the main powder charged. Deft motions untwisted one end of the cylinder and poured the black powder down the gun's muzzle. Another tight packet revealed a small sphere of iron which he eased deep into the gun with a long, thin rod from the same Hound who had brought the gun. Once that was complete, he hefted the gun into a more natural position, cocking back the hammer and opening a small chamber on top, near the rifle's stock.
Pointing to a piece of flint attached to the hammer, he stated the obvious. "This is a piece of flint. It strike this frizzen here--" he tapped a small piece of steel directly ahead of the flint "--which lights up the powder that I'm about to pour in the pan here--" the same finger pointed at the small opening right below the frizzen "--and you'll hear a crack of unholy thunder before your target keels over dead. Assuming your aim is true."
He pulled out one more packet of powder, tipping the opening into the pan before closing the small lid and wrapping a tiny cloth strip around the frizzen. "No one's firing anything today, and I don't need any accidental discharges so before you even test the weight of your rifle I'll need you all to grab those torn cloth pieces from the bin near the guns and wrap it around here," he instructed, pointing to the frizzen again. "When you pull the trigger, this little flint piece strikes the steel bit here and sets off a spark. That spark turns into hellfire and thunder and you're not ready for that until I see you loading and cleaning like the lightning itself. So get to it. I'm here for any questions, but the final rule for today is to keep your finger off that trigger until you're ready to kill something. Or someone. If we make decent headway, you can practice holding it properly, like this." He knelt and rested the stock against his shoulder, face tight against it, and pointed the gun forward, one hand gripping the stock and the other stabilizing with a firm hold on the bottom of the barrel, where the wood casing had been made to accommodate.
"Practice shifting from a full load to this position. You'll need to do it as quickly as possible in combat. And remember: fingers off the trigger. Now pick a gun, wrap the cloth around the steel bit, and get to it."
Basic instruction done, he relaxed his stance and stood back up, turning now to the trainees to watch their attempts.
Marie would have answered Regis, had it not been for their intructor arriving just then. His teaching methods were interesting, but she had no doubt she could do better. In fact, she was confident she would be able to teach even a bunch of peasants how to shoot in a formation in just a matter of hours. It was the maneuverings and drills to instill dicipline that took longer.
"Well, Regis, didn't you hear him? Go on and use the gun."
She didn't bother picking up one, considering it more for the benefit of her untrained companion, and those peasants there rather than anyone like her. What noble did not know how to use a gun? Once more she was convinced that these people were fools. Loading the rifle was in itself already a dangerous move. A piece of cloth over the pan? Why even bother with that and just remove the flint or leave it at half cock? In fact, why bother with any of that at all, and simply allow them to shoot under guidance? And she had certainly heard of paper cartridges for ease of use in the field, but she had never seen one that separated both the powder and the ball in different paper packets. Perhaps it was their way of doing such a thing. Marie was feeling rather smug by now, thinking of Roche's superiority in that field.
"Right. Yes. Use the gun, will do." he went over and glanced at one of the rifles. He grabbed one of the cloth strips as instructed, wrapping it around the... frizzy? He shook his head, grabbing the weapon and holding it awkwardly, clearly highly unaccustomed to handling it and perhaps a little afraid of it.
He gave a glance back to Rose-Marie, “Well, this sure is a gun.” he wryly commented. He stared at it for a moment, reciting the steps in his head. Powder, ball, rod… couldn’t be too hard, could it? Or was it ball, powder, rod? No, no, the powder must've gone in first. He nodded to himself, doing his best to replicate Lemare’s loading.
Meanwhile, Gabe just stared on. The instructions were simple and the demonstration was clear and concise. He knew what to do. He understood. But still, Gabe edged around others, keeping his distance. Rifles were loud. Why rifles? Why not bows? He had seen soldiers using bows before. He glanced at Lemare, wondering if it was a clever thing to ask him. Probably not. So he complied, grabbing a rifle and fiddling with it. Loading the weapon wasn't too hard, and he managed after a few moments.
Incompetent buffoons, came her thought as Rose-Marie sighed. She had no problem letting the peasants founder, but her servant being incompetent reflected badly upon her. Perhaps another demonstration would allow them to finally figure it out.
"Regis. Watch." She picked up a rifle of her own, making sure it was unloaded. Signalling to the others to come close, Marie continued, "You, peasants, come here. I'll only be so gracious so as to demonstrate this once."
First she uncovered the pan at the bottom of the rifle after making sure the hammer was half cocked. Anyone even half knowledgable about guns would notice putting the hammer in that position would make the gun unable to fire. It was where the phrase 'going off half cocked' came from after all.
"Put some powder in the pan, inside here. Not too much, just enough to ignite the charge."
Closing the frizzen over the pan, she poured a measure of powder inside the muzzle, and put a ball in. WIth one smooth movement, she took out the ramming rod from the rifle and rammed it down the muzzle.
"Now, Regis. Are you still listening? Pour some powder into the muzzle, then ram the ball in. Make sure the ball is flush against the powder charge in the bottom, or your rifle will explode instead of sending a ball downrange."
With the rifle fully armed, she aimed down the barrel downrange, though she kept her fingers off the trigger. Once more came the overwhelming feeling she could be doing something much more productive with her time, as Marie sighed again.
Regies watch attentively. There was this little game he liked to play where he tried to guess what Rose-Marie was thinking when she gave one of her lectures. Right now, probably something along the lines of… incompetent cretins? Regies is staggeringly incompetent and it’s embarrassing?
Of course, he wasn’t bitter. He found his incompetence quite endearing.
He nodded along as Rose-Marie spoke, giving the occasional chime of, ”Yes, m’lady.” and a, ”Still listening, m’lady.” and finally a, ”I would certainly hope that the rifle doesn’t explode, m’lady.” all delivered entirely straight laced.
He repeated the steps to himself again. Powder in the pan, but not too much. Powder in the muzzle, ram the ball in. Make sure it’s flush or you’re going to have a really bad day. To his credit, he was a lot better at remembering with Rose-Marie barking at him. ”Thank you for the demonstration, m’lady.” he said with a wry smile, doing his best to replicate the process with his own rifle. He was a little slow, but he got the steps right – certainly he could speed up with a little more practice.
Arden, meanwhile, picked up a similar rifle carefully and following the instructions, trying to remember his teenage lessons from days he had long left behind. He tested the noticeable weight of it in his hands and remembered faintly the feeling of a heavy kick and the ringing in his ears afterwards. He had never really liked the new weapons, but he couldn't deny their efficacy. Targets often dropped instantly, a hole pierced clean through their bodies. It took him several attempts to remember the rusty skills of loading and moving into position, but it came back quicker than expected, his mind beginning now to dredge up relevant information.
Are you worried? he asked through their bond, the convenience of its use a blessing in these moments.
Gabe didn't reply at first, far too occupied with their new weapons. But after a few moments, a response came through.
Yes.
It's very loud--the gun.
I know.
They called it the new era of warfare. These things. They kill very quickly.
But loudly. A flash of annoyance passed through their bond. Everything will run away after one shot.
They were made to kill people better, even if the nobles use them more for sport and game. On the battlefield, it doesn't matter how far you run. The distances it can hit are...tremendous.
I'm not using it.
You'll die out there if you don't master this. A murky feeling filtered through their bond, but Arden quieted it before Gabe could identify. Still, the contents of the message was enough indication of what it was.
Gabe looked up at Arden then, head slightly tilted.
They aren't sending us to war, are they? Aren't we...important?
They're training us for war, Gabe. And I would do anything to keep you alive.
Gabe just looked stunned for a few moments, before shaking his head and turning back to the rifle.
"Dude, don't fucking smoke in here. Don't need my room smelling like cigarettes." Emma swatted at Determination, making a weak attempt to swipe her cigarette, but Determination quickly dodged, ducking away. "You already fucked up the room once..."
"Hey man, c'mon, let a girl do her thing." Determination had a slight grin, backing towards the door, holding the cigarette to her side.
"When did you start smoking anyways? Where did you get that?" it wasn't like Emma was surprised - Determination was just like Riley, it followed that she'd have the same vices. Still, if you had told her that the tulpa would be a chainsmoker when she first got it she certainly wouldn't have believed that.
Determination just shrugged, "I'm crafty, you know that, right?" Determination backed to the door, slipping it open, "Anyways, outside. Just since you asked." she said with a wry smile, heading out.
"Right..."
Two seconds through the door of her dorm room was all it took for Callan to decide she needed a little more time not around Marcus. She needed more time to figure things out. Ernie was right. It'd be best if she just played along. She could do that, couldn't she? Act like nothing had changed? It was pretty close to the truth anyway... wasn't it? Aside from her slip up that morning, she hadn't done anything wrong!
Right?
She hadn't planned on doing anything either! Why was that tulpa asking so many questions anyway? And who gave it the right to make so many assumptions?
...
Her face burned, embarrassed by the memory.
Even so... if she wanted things to stay as they were, she'd need to make sure everyone was on board.
She needed to talk to Det again. That much was certain.
Callan circled the grounds a few times, glancing up at the general location of Emma's dorm window every now and then. She couldn't just knock and ask to speak to Determination, could she? That would be super weird. Emma would ask about what they talked about. Det might make a scene. By the time lap four rolled around, Callan had soundly convinced herself that trying to confront the tulpa was a god-awful idea. One of the worst things she'd ever thought to do aside from getting to know Marcus's girlfriend.
But, hey. Plenty of good things had come from being friends with Emma. Even with the feeling of impending doom hanging over her head, she didn't regret it. At least, that's what she tried to tell herself when, just as she was about to pass the doors of Building B one last time, the unmistakable hue of blue hair came strolling outside, cigarette in hand and bitchy expression in place.
Callan froze, caught between flight or fight for a moment before she forced the tension out of her shoulders. She could do this.
"Hey Det," Callan said, forcing herself not to nervously smile as well.
Determination turned slowly, bringing the cigarette down from her mouth. ”Huh…?” she took a moment to process the voice and the person she was looking at. Really? So soon? Determination’s face moved away from surprise, quickly finding an effortless grin. ”Heeeeeeeeeeeeey Cal!” she said with none of the likely expected awkwardness, instead sounding perfectly normal.
”Wassup?” she said, taking a puff of smoke into her mouth.
Callan couldn't keep up. Her expression warped into a small grimace that was meant to be a smile. How was she supposed to respond to a greeting like that?
"Can we talk?" she asked simply, eyes darting from the cigarette to Det's eyes behind the shades. Don't look away. You can do this.
Determination’s grin only grew wider as she exhaled, ”What, exactly, do we have to talk about kelp head?”
Flinching only a little, Callan glanced behind the tulpa briefly as she responded, "I'll tell you, but first..."
She paused for a moment, thinking, "Maybe we could sit down? There's a table over there." She nodded towards the outside of Building C where a cluster of empty tables seemed like as good a place as any for a private chat.
”Right. Sure thing.” Determination gave a slight wink and headed to the tables. She picked the nearest one, taking a seat on the top and resting her feet on the bench.
Even though she'd been the one to suggest it, Callan ended up following the taller girl's lead-- thrown off again by the playful gesture. Not that she minded the extra time to compose herself while her back was turned. Det's carefree smile hadn't been doing a whole lot for her nerves either. Reaching the table, she hesitated, watching the tulpa sit down with a slight frown-- like she'd been hoping she might not sit that way. With a subdued sigh, Callan sat on the bench parallel to Det's feet. She gave the tulpa plenty of space.
Another short sigh through her nose, and she spoke, "Uhm... I think... it's possible there might've been a misunderstanding this morning."
Determination raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Do tell, kelp head." she said, grin unmoving.
Her eye twitched. That nickname... wasn't growing on her.
"I'm not messing with Emma's relationship," she said cautiously, though her voice was far more certain than she'd been on the roof that morning. No shaking or looking away.
"And I have absolutely no intention of doing anything like that."
”Oh? Is that so? Wow, Cal, why didn’t you just lead with that one?! Things would’ve been totally fine! Phew, good thing we got that cleared up, huh?” Determination’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
She stood up, standing on the bench and then shifting to sitting on it, spreading her legs out and folding her hands together, ”It’s not that easy Cal. Because to be completely honest I don’t really trust people, least of all you.” her voice was markedly more serious now, whatever grin she had on before now gone.
The sarcasm came as less of a surprise this time around, but it still shook her a bit. As did Det's closing proximity. Still, she'd steeled herself for this sort of response. Or tried to.
"That's fair," Callan said, still facing forward, "But I wanted to say it anyway..." She took another breathe before shifting in her seat, just enough to see the tulpa beside her. "That," her eyes narrowed slightly, "And I wanted to make sure we were both on the same page...."
"Emma can't find out about this."
”Is that what you think?”
Determination’s eyes for a moment dared Callan, but she leaned back, sighing, ”You’re probably right, though. Emma can’t find out about this. Are you saying that for her benefit, or yours?”
Callan's stare sharpened for a fraction of a second. "Hers!" she answered firmly, "Especially after what you told me... Either way, I meant what I said before. I want them both to be happy. That's all."
...was it?
As usual, she spoke without thinking. It was true that she'd inevitably benefit from this agreement. Maintaining her ability to be friends with both Emma and Marcus. 'Could be worse'... the words she said to Sander suddenly felt like an ominous forecast, but she didn't want to think on it further.
She didn't want Emma to get hurt. That was just as true. Backlash aside, the idea of Emma being in any sort of distress over her own stupid mistake was an unbearable concept. One she felt would likely eat her up inside forever.
Callan propped her elbows up, running her fingers through her bangs anxiously. She sighed, amethyst eyes settling on a large chip in the table, "Not to mention, Emma's got enough on her plate right now. You know. You probably know her better than anyone... I just don't want to be part of the problem." She glanced up at Det, expression suddenly a little apologetic. She chose not to elaborate, though the meaning seemed clear enough.
She shook her head incredulously, "I don't know why you're asking me anyway. I'm just gonna lie, aren't I?" She smiled uncomfortably, "Look, I just need you to promise me you won't tell her."
Determination smirked at that, taking a drag from her cigarette. ”Sharp, kelp head. I don’t trust people, you’re right. Well, I’m not one to make promises, but I’ll tell you that I probably won’t tell Emma unless you give me a reason to. You’re right, after all, she doesn’t need to know…” Determination gestured vaguely into the air, ”Well, there’s a lot she doesn’t need to know.”
Callan didn't comment on that. She knew what Det was referring to. More importantly-- what would give someone like her a reason to tell Emma? She pursed her lips, discontent with the tulpa's answer in more ways than one. She didn't like keeping all these secrets. Even if it was to spare her friend's feelings, it didn't sit right with her.
Could she try not to think about it? For how long? What if she slipped up again? What if Emma found out she knew all along but didn't tell her? How was she supposed to deal with this if Det wouldn't promise??
Determination looked down. God, this was awkward. This was really awkward. Every single second that passed kelp head looked more and more depressed and it made Determination feel more and more weird.
”Hey, listen…” she didn’t think she felt guilty, just off, at least that’s what she told herself, ”Just… ugh. Things will probably shake out alright, kid.” Determination said, running her free hand over the back of her head awkwardly.
Callan slumped over the table, massaging her forehead. "Yeah," she muttered, unconvinced. It took her a moment to remember who she was talking to. Was that sympathy? She scoffed again, laughing humorlessly under her breath. Must be bad if she was feeling sorry for her. "We'll see," she sighed.
Students and staff alike roamed around Building C. It wasn't uncommon for students to arrive late for the lunch period these days, a fact only exemplified by the lack of classes on campus. A group of four, three aberrations and one arbiter, were making light conversation as they strolled to the cafeteria.
"--don't fucking think so, man. I've seen the shit he gets up to at GZ," a tall, X-marked blond drawled, hands in his pockets. "'f you ask me, he--...yo, you lost?"
The sentence was cut off as he caught sight of the tulpa, a displeased expression lining his face.
Determination looked away from Callan, towards the aberration. She had a distinctly unamused look on her face, glaring down the blond-haired boy as she took a drag from her cigarette. ”Do I look lost?” she said, gesturing for them to move on.
"No mark, no visitor or staff tags," he took a haughty step towards her, "You look like proof that Zhang's guard dogs don't get paid enough. How'd you even get into campus?"
”Hey, since you seem to be a little slow lemme elaborate a little on what I just said: not lost, as you can see I’m having a chat with my pal over here,” Determination vaguely gestured towards Callan, ”Staff hasn’t thrown me out, so maybe take that as a hint that I’m supposed to be here, buddy.”
"Right, your subnatural pal," the teen rolled his eyes, "And if I go around carrying Rosa's paperwork for her that makes me one of Zhang's official assistants. Cut the fucking bullshit, Reg."
"Hey!" Callan wasn't sure why she was speaking up. It wasn't as if Det couldn't handle herself. She turned in her seat to more fully face the group. Even if she had been a regular, this guy was being totally rude. "Chill out and mind your own business, dude," she frowned, "She's not bothering anybody."
"Fuck, I don't wanna hear that from you!" Another X, a black-haired boy, sneered, "What happened? Arb roommates treat you so badly you had to sneak a Reg past the guards just to make you feel better?"
Determination stood up, flicking her cigarette away, now fully turning towards the posse of subs, ”Hey, jackass, try to listen to the girl. Mind your own fucking business, alright? Go tell the teacher on me or whatever, just fuck off, alright?”
The lead blond blinked. Watched the cigarette drop to the ground.
"Actually..." he smiled and nodded to his group. Determination's arms became pinned to her sides, an invisible force holding them in place as the last Aberration, a purple-haired girl, began to glow. The blond's hands began morphing, enlarging with sharp protrusions emerging from the tips of his fingers.
"That's not such a bad idea! We'll see what the office has to say about you, 'kay?"
Callan jumped to her feet in alarm, quickly trying to gauge their intentions.
Determination’s frown turned more distinct, ”Hey, fuck…!” she struggled for a moment, but quickly stopped. She looked over the subs, back towards Building B. For once her mental link with Emma would be good for more than just bothering her.
Hey, Em, find a window that faces Building C, alright?
What?
Fuck dude, just do it! I’m about to do some cool shit! Quick!
A couple of seconds later and Determination’s frown turned into a slight smile, ”Man, someone should really teach you retards a lesson.” Determination, very suddenly, disappeared. ”Boo!” she shouted, popping up behind the blond aberration and sending a fist flying towards his head.
The telekinetic girl had been on guard as soon as Determination disappeared, her cocky shout only serving as a cue for her incoming attack. She swerved the blond sidewards to avoid the fist. The boy tumbled to his side a distance away, though he barked a sharp "Harry!"as he got to his feet. In response, the black-haired boy snarled at the tulpa's feet, a jet of green flame bursting from his mouth.
Determination’s feet were only barely singed by the time she disappeared again. She reappeared almost instantly, free of injury, above the blond haired boy. She remembered watching a clip of Macho Man jumping off the ropes and slamming some dude in the head with his elbow, deciding to do her best to replicate that move sans rope.
The blond yelped as he was yanked away again, out of the path of the elbow.
"Fucking get her already!" he yelled, being maneuvered upright by the girl this time.
”Hey, stop fucking doing that!” Determination called out. She really did not want to hit a girl, but she was starting to get really annoying. She grunted, pushing herself up. Her elbow had flown right past the boy into the pavement. Luckily she was durable enough to not break it, but there was now a inky black scrape where she made contact. Determination lunged after the blond boy, now making her best effort to tackle him.
It was like a carrot on a stick. The boy was pulled backwards, quickly enough to avoid the lunge. Another burst of flame met Determination for her efforts, creating a barrier between her and the boy that would quickly swing towards the tulpa.
”Ah, fuck!” Determination pulled back from the flame before disappearing once again.
Wow, this is getting really out of hand. Emma remarked to herself in the distance, watching the scene from Building B, taking a sip from her mug.
Meanwhile, Callan watched on with significantly more apprehension, stepping a little closer and breath hitching in her throat when Det threw the first punch. Clearly the tulpa's safety wasn't the one she was concerned about. But it wasn't like she could do much with her poofing all over the place like that.
"Whoa, hey!" she shouted, more in protest to both parties as green flames crossed her path. She shielded her eyes briefly out of habit, quickly trying to relocate the blue haired girl.
When Determination came back this time it was near the picnic tables. She plucked up one of the benches, flinging it towards the blond haired boy. ”You kids are still free to go ahead and fuck off!”
But the bench didn't travel far. Space itself seemed to warp, fold in on itself then stretch out as the last member of the blond's party, a bespectacled Arbiter, stared intently at the distance with his bright silver eyes. The bench snapped in half as it hit the ground, travelling only a fifth of the initial trajectory.
"This is so not worth," the Arbiter hissed.
"Shut up, Martin!" the blond snapped back, "Harry!"
By now, green flames were covering a good portion of the concrete. Whatever was still smoldering began to rise, accumulating into a flaming orb that flew towards Determination.
Determination, expectedly, flickered away, now appearing behind the party.
C’mon, Em, please! These guys clearly are totally trying to fucking murder me!
You can’t die.
I’m well aware of that, but they fucking aren’t!
I really don’t think I should be encouraging you here… but they are kind of assholes. Alright, let’s see how this works out. I think I’ve finally got this shit on lock, so we might as well have a little test. Just don’t do anything too severe, alright?
Determination smirked. ”Alright, I’ve had enough of this shit! You wanna fight, let’s fucking fight!” as Determination spoke the forms of Love, Devotion, and Charity appeared behind her. ”Last chance, fuckface!” she said, eyeing the blond haired aberration.
"You're fucking--" the Arbiter groaned as backup arrived, "Fuck this, man."
He raised his hands in surrender, backing away. The blond Aberration shot him a deadly glare before turning to the newly summoned tulpas. A giant, clawed fist was thrust at Determination, stretching unnaturally towards her while her arms got pinned again. The flaming orb split apart, green embers shooting like arrows at the clearly inhuman figures.
Em, move us out of the fucking way!
Emma was quick to follow up on the order, the posse of tulpas flickering away and now back to the other side of the subs. ”Love, pull the girl!” as she called out the tulpa raised its hand, attempting to pull the girl towards it with its power. Determination really wanted to say something smarmy like ‘how about a taste of your own medicine, bitch!’ but she still had two other tulpas to think about.
Being a leader was fucking hard.
”Charity, Devotion, powers on the blond!” she called out, the two following the order, a purple link now appearing between the boy and Charity, quickly followed by a gout of sludge underneath him. Determination herself moved to rush down the black-haired fire breather, charging him, winding up for a punch.
The telekinetic's concentration was broken as she was pulled back, a high-pitched shriek leaving her mouth when she fell on her ass. As per Determination's orders, a pool of sludge made the blond's feet sink beneath him, trapping him in that spot. Identifying the perpetrator as one of the remaining two shadows, he grabbed at Charity with one of his stretching fists and hurled it at Devotion. Determination's rush was met with another geyser of flame, though it clearly had less volume than the previous spouts.
Determination was very nearly caught off guard by the gout of flame, distracted by the flying Charity. She barley managing to get off an Em, fucking get Ch- before she realized she had to move first, fading out and coming back in to the side of the fire breather, now right next to him, trying to punch him before he had the chance to react. She realized that a full on hit from her would take off the kid's head, so she held back, intending only to knock him out.
Emma, meanwhile, pieced together Determination's order all too late, watching Charity and Devotion fly into each other and disappear. She quickly respawned them, but Determination was too distracted to notice and Emma was too far to try to order them.
Knock him out, she did. The fire-breather dropped like a sack of bricks, not quite unconscious but too dazed and prone to do anything coherent. The green flames remained sprinkled around the brawl.
"Charity and..." the Arbiter muttered from his safe spot, paling as he pieced together the names, "Shit. Guys, stop! They're Pandora's guys!"
"What?" the girl replied, distracted.
Meanwhile, freed from the sludge, the blond attacked again. A furious roar sounded as the giant fist swung at Determination.
”Ding ding ding, jackass!” Determination called out as the arbiter finally pieced things together, but she was quickly cut off by the fist of the blond. Determination disappeared, reappearing behind Love. ”Pull him!” she called out, running towards the blond with the intent to grab him as he went off balance.
The girl did nothing as the blond was stumbled and seized, backing away like the Arbiter did earlier. The remaining fighter struggled vainly in Determination's grip.
"What the fuck...are you?" he snarled.
Determination grinned as she hovered over the boy, ”I’m your worst nightmare.” she put on her best Kevin Conroy impression, putting her upmost into sounding as menacing as possible, letting the words stew for a moment, gauging the boy’s reaction, for just a moment feeling both like a gigantic badass and a total idiot.
The Arbiter coughed out a poorly held laugh. The Aberration only responded with a meek and confused, "Huh?"
Determination glanced up at the arbiter quickly, flashing a grin, before looking back down at the blond-haired boy. She thought for a moment, trying to compose herself back into the image of Batman, but she just couldn’t, instead letting out a loud laugh at her own joke. ”Ah, fuck, I can’t take that seriously.” she warily took her hands off the boy, tossing him to the ground, ”Alright, you can go. I’m letting you off easy, okay? Didn’t you hear your friend? You’re messing with the famous Pandora and her highly glamorous companion, Determination.” she smirked, any semblance of seriousness now long gone.
"Fuck you. Fuck you an--"
"Holy shit, Bren, shut the fuck up already," the Arbiter, Martin, groaned. "Eliza, can you get Harry for us?"
The girl complied with a nervous nod, walking to the fire-breather and draping his arm over her shoulder in lieu of using her powers. He moaned something to her while the Arbiter addressed Determination.
"You really should get a 'Guest' tag or something. A lotta guys here won't be as friendly as us if they see a 'Reg'."
And just like that, it was over. Callan, who up until then had been clutching the sides of her head while the chaos ensued, relaxed her posture and sighed tiredly. "That was supposed to be friendly?" she muttered, glancing at Det.
Det merely glanced at Cal, aiming her newfound grin at her before turning towards Martin, "Isn't this just way more fun though?"she said with a voice that was hard to place, somewhere between sarcasm and genuine glee.
He rolled his eyes. "For them, maybe. I just wanted some taquitos." A glare was thrown at Harry and Brendan. "Hospital food better make up for it."
"Oof, sucks to suck." Det said, turning back towards Callan, "Emma's coming down, by the way, so if there's anything else you gotta clear up now’s the time."
"Pandora's coming?" the girl asked.
"Yeah. And we're leaving. Concussions don't wait around for TV celebrities." Martin hustled his group away from the tulpa despite Eliza's protests. One last tired look was thrown over his shoulder. "I'd apologize for these guys but...I'll make sure they'll get around to doing it themselves when they get their shit together. Seeya."
Space and distance warped again, the path to the medical building looked much shorter for a brief moment before returning to its usual state. The foursome became little more than specks in the distance.
Callan cast a sympathetic glance towards her fellow arbiter before quickly looking back at Building B, uneasiness quickly rising. Emma must've seen the whole thing just now. For a moment there, she almost thought Determination was the one summoning the other tulpas.
"No," she shook her head quickly, clearly on edge, "That's... that's fine. I- I said what I needed to say...."
"Good." Determination pulled out another cigarette, lighting it. She'd need to grab another pack soon. "We're cool as long as you don't mess with her, alright? I... might have been a little too hard on you. Maybe. She's just... really important to me, y'know?" Determination sighed, stretching, "Or some dumb shit like that. Just don't cause any trouble."
"I won't," Callan frowned, perplexed by what almost sounded like an apology. Either way, it didn't do much to quell her nerves, worsening with every passing moment. She hadn't texted Emma back yet for a reason.
With the bench now broken, Callan took a seat on the table, heaving another subdued sigh. She looked at Det, trying to steer her thoughts elsewhere. She'd just fended off four subnaturals all by herself. Emma's ability was seriously amazing. Versatile and powerful. A name like Pandora suddenly seemed very fitting. She could completely turn the tide of any fight if she wanted to. Though in this case... Determination had been the one calling the shots, hadn't she?
"Uh," Callan fiddled with the drawstrings of her hoodie, "That was pretty impressive, by the way..."
Determination beamed, clearly pleased by the commentary, "Don't I know it, that was cool as hell. I'm cool as hell."
"Heh," Callan smiled. Plenty encouragable, wasn't she? Fucking crazy as hell, but encouragable. "Ayep. S-super cool."
She scratched the back of her head nervously. Maybe she shouldn't be encouraging Det to pick fights with students on campus though?
Nah, that could be Emma's problem to deal with.
Not wanting to come off as insincere, she resumed her smile and added, "I don't think they'll be messing with you again any time soon."
"Super awesome! Yep, that's it, I am super awesome. And they totes won't mess with me again if they know what's good for them. You should try it out sometime. You'e got super strength, you can totally kick assholes like those guys around." Determination didn't really realize that encouraging Callan to fight back might not be a great idea, the words coming out completely sincere.
Fortunately, Callan knew better. Her little sparring match with Kusari had been evidence enough that smacking people around on a whim wasn't an option. Not that she ever felt the need to anyway. "Yeah, I probably could," she chuckled, "But I'd rather not get zapped." She lifted her ankle, giving the cuff a light shake.
"Oh, yeah, totally forgot that you guys have to deal with that shit." there was a bit of a twinkle in Det's eye, "Well, I could totally kick some people around if you need me to. Y'know, if you're gonna be cool and everything."
"Uh," she smiled politely, "Thanks, but I don't think that'll be necessary. I don't really have any major beef with anyone." Yet. She paused as an idea struck her.
"Although..."
No, she shouldn't. She really shouldn't....
"Might be funny to see Chris get a little kick in the pants sometime," she smirked, "Just make sure you don't stick around to get caught, though. Guy's supposedly nuts."
”Chris…? Oh… ohhhhhh… he’s the dragon kid, right?” Determination winked, ”Oh, yeah, totally, I could take that pasty white kid. And I’m impossible to catch, so… y’know, he’ll probably be convinced that he got kicked in the balls by the air.”
Callan laughed despite herself. "Oh, man," she sighed, "That would be so rich. You have no idea."
”Consider it done.”
Determination tapped her foot, looking around for a moment as she took a drag from her cigarette, ””Oh, she sh-“
Before Determination could finish her thought Emma came out the door of Building B, waving at the pair and jogging over. ”Hey! What the hell was all that about?” she said as she approached, glancing expectantly between Cal and Determination.
Determination side-eyed Cal. ”Just a friendly sparring sesh with some of your sub friends. Right, Cal?” she said, giving a slight shrug.
The laughter came to an abrupt end as Emma came into sight.
"Uhh," Callan looked guilty as hell, desperately trying to focus on the most recent reason. She probably could have tried to do a bit more to prevent that fight from breaking out.
"Y-yeah," she added, woefully unconvincing.
Emma glanced between the two again. ”That didn’t look very friendly.” now she was looking at Cal specifically, casting a suspicious glance over her.
Determination, however, waved her arm dismissively. ”Don’t worry about it. Really. Those guys were pretty cool, totally friendly.”
Emma looked at Callan for confirmation.
Callan attempted a reassuring smiled. Why was Det lying about this? What was Emma going to do? Send her to her room? She didn't even start the fight!
Wait... was this a test? God, if this was a test, she was already tanking hard.
Sparing a short glance at Det, Callan vaguely imitated the carefree hand gesture. Maybe sticking to a half-truth would be more doable? "Really, it's nothing to worry about, Em," she said with a bit more success.
Emma brushed a strand of hair out of her face, smiling, ”Alright, fine, whatever. Anyways, how’s it goin’? What are you two up to?”
Determination grinned, ”Just hangin’ out. I ran into her on my way out. We’re like total buds now, right, Cal?” she said, forcing an arm around the girl’s shoulder.
Back stiffening immediately, Callan glanced up at Det out of the corner of her eye. "Uh," she forced a short laugh, "Yeah. We were..." She scrabbled for a topic, noticing a crushed cirgarrete on the ground.
"Just talkin' about smoking."
A slight look of shock came onto Emma’s face, ”Holy shit, you better not be trying to peer pressure her!” Emma said, giving Determination a harsh look, ”Man, Cal, you better not let her drag you down. That shit is gross.”
Determination once again waved her hand dismissively, ”No, no, no, you misunderstand. Callan here asked me to put it out, she was, uh, worried about the second-hand smoke and all that, and I was like ‘Oooooh yeah I don’t really have to worry about lung disease huh, my bad’ and we were just chatting about how my body worked. Right?” she said, glancing at Cal again.
Shit, she was getting Det in trouble anyway! Jesus Christ! Step it up, Cal!
"No, yeah," Callan nodded, "Det's right. Th-that's all it was!"
She laughed, rubbing the back of her neck, "You know, now that I think of it, smoking probably wouldn't hurt me much either though, right? Super resistance and all that. Hell, I could probably down a cup of sink cleaner and be fine."
She laughed again, "But seriously, don't worry. I'm not a big fan of the smell anyway so... no cigarettes for me!"
Emma gave Cal a confused look at the mention of sink cleaner and smoking. ”Yeah, I’m totally gonna vote no on both those ideas.”
Determination, however, had a kind of starry eyed look on her face, ”Wow, that sounds super badass. Maybe I should try drinking bleach… like, just to freak people out!”
”Uh, no. Anyways, uh, you have a minute Cal…? I was hoping to, er, chat.”
Callan nodded a little too eagerly, hoping Emma was planning on sending Det somewhere else. The tension of having both of them there was starting to feel like too much. "Sure," she smiled, stepping away from the tulpa.
”Ooooooo, cool, what’re we chattin’ about?”
Emma gave Determination an expectant glance.
”Oh. Oh, okay. Sure, I gotcha. I’ll just… go… do something.” Determination said, turning back towards Building B, leaving behind one last puff of smoke.
Emma waited for a second, letting the tulpa gain a little distance from them, ”Hey, so, uh, did you see my text this morning?”
"Ah--" Callan's expression blanched for a moment. She didn't think this far ahead. Of course Emma was going to ask about she and Det's chat this morning. She slipped her hands inside her pockets and tried to shift into a more casual stance.
"Shit, I totally forgot to text you back. Sorry, I was at Waffle House with Ernie," she smiled apologetically. Maybe Emma would want to talk about waffles instead.
Emma’s face soured slightly when she mentioned Ernie, but she kept smiling, ”It’s…. it’s not a big deal, I just… Determination totally trashed our room this morning. And she was acting all weird, said something about talking to you. What… uh, what exactly is going on?”
And there it was. A simple question carrying way more weight than Emma could ever know. Callan wanted to tell her at least half of what had transpired that morning. To be able to tell Emma it would be okay. Hug her tight and fix it all just like that. Her sister was human and had made a mistake-- but she was still her sister. Just as much as Cal's parents were still her parents. They could move past this together.
But she couldn't. Not now. Not yet.
Lord, give me strength.
"She trashed your room?" Callan asked, alarmed because she was. Recalling Det's assault on the roof vent, she couldn't help but wonder how bad the damage was-- but a question like that would only draw suspicion.
"Well... she tried to hide it, but yeah. She cleaned everything up but left a couple of nasty holes in the wall and scared the shit out of our cat. Seemed like she fucked up the place pretty bad. You guys didn't..." Emma had a rush of flashbacks to Riley. She had always liked to break shit when she was angry, "Did she seem, like... mad about anything?"
'Mad'? More like psychotically irate.
Callan frowned, scratching her cheek for an excuse to briefly avert her eyes. "Uh... n-no."
Got to do better than that.
"I mean, we did talk, but... uh... I guess she did seem kind of upset?" Callan was clearly uncomfortable. There was no way around it. She had to lie. Lie and pray that Emma didn't ever find out.
"I think she's just having some existential issues... y-you know? Assuming she can feel like you and me... It's a lot to take in on her end, I'm sure," she pushed her bangs back against her head, "We didn't really talk about anything important...." She inwardly winced.
"Cal..." Emma frowned, "Listen, I know her. Riley, I mean. If she... listen, if there's anything weird going on, y'know you can be honest with me, right? She didn't, like... ugh, just, if there's something up tell me." Emma gave a slight smile, "Don't worry, I'll take your side."
Callan bit her lip hard, tightly gripping the bottom hem of her hoodie. God damn it... she couldn't. She couldn't do this. Emma didn't deserve to be betrayed like that... but she did deserve to know the truth. And she deserved to hear it from someone who cared. She had nothing to do for the rest of the day. Classes were still out, too. Now was as good a time as any.
She had to tell her.
"You'll..." she swallowed hard, already looking sorry, "You'll want to sit down." She pointed at the bench-less picnic table and waited before taking a seat beside her.
She took a deep breath. "Det told me this in confidence, but... I think you should know. A-and before I say anything," Callan's expression was grim, but completely serious and genuine, "Just know, I'm here for you, okay?"
Emma looked confused the entire time. As Callan told her to sit down, as they sat down, and as she started talking. She very clearly had little idea of what was going on, ”Uh… what are you talking about, Cal?” she said, matching Callan’s seriousness. She always had that same sinking feeling in her stomach when she knew she was about to hear something she didn’t want to hear.
Second guessing herself again, Callan glanced back at building B. She could almost imagine Det's lithe form occupying one of the windows. Just a flicker of a thought. She was doing the right thing here.
Emma had to know.
"Det said you summoned her in your sleep the night you were captured. And she... saw some stuff. She told me she saw--" Callan grimaced, "She saw your sister Val calling the police... to turn you in."
Emma’s expression was hard to read for a moment.
”What?”
Callan blinked, confused for a moment before her eyebrows knit together out of frustration and concern. She tentatively reached for Emma's hand.
"Val," she repeated, "Det said she's the reason the cops found you."
Emma pulled her hand away. ”I, uh…” Emma’s voice cracked, her face in pain, ”No, no, there’s no way. That’s not true. Val wouldn’t do that.”
Callan retracted her hand quickly. She looked down at her knees, trying to steel herself again. She subdued a heartbroken sigh before she looked back at her, "Emma, I'm really sorry."
Emma stood up. ”No, no, no, you don’t have to be sorry. That didn’t happen. There’s no way, right? Like… you probably just… are you sure? Was Determination sure?” Emma forced a hollow smile.
Callan stood up with her, watching Emma carefully. She felt like she was precariously reliving the worst day of her life. It was awful to watch...
She nodded solemnly, "Det seemed pretty sure. Said she overheard the whole phone call."
”I…”
Emma was trying to rationalize it in her head. Why would Determination lie? Why would Callan lie? Riley had a rep for bending the truth, but nothing like this. Could she have misheard? She heard the whole call, who could something like that…
Her mind found none of the answers she raced for, but she didn’t want to believe this. Couldn’t believe this. Not Val, Val would never do anything to hurt her. She felt so close to the edge right now, facing a reality that was so terrifyingly impossible it shouldn’t exist.
”Cal, you don’t know her, she…” Emma stopped herself, choking up a little.
She couldn’t stop second guessing herself. There was no way. No way this could be true. But what if it was? It would explain so much, explain why Val refused to talk to her. Explain how they got caught. Explain why Determination had been so fucking weird about Val.
Emma stopped breathing for a moment, air caught in her throat, and then started breathing way too much. Hyperventilating, looking to Cal for answers that she already knew the girl wouldn’t have.
Callan could see it all. The rationalizing. The breaking down. The thirst for more answers. She'd been there. Right there. Seeing Emma like that made her want to cry, but... she knew what to do. At least, she thought she did. For Emma's sake, she hoped she did.
Her feet moved well before her mind told them to, arms pulling Emma close and wrapping around her shoulders in a tight embrace. Tight, but not too tight. God, it was frustrating-- having to think so hard every time she touched anyone. Resisting the urge to hold her any tighter, she finally spoke up, "Emma... I'm sorry."
Emma’s breath slowed. It was comforting, a small comfort in a highly uncomfortable situation. The voice was there, the familiar voice. It had been so quiet, but it seems like it spotted its chance.
why hasn’t she called There must be a good reason how did they find you It was just bad luck, bad luck fuck, fuck, fuck Fuck, fuck, fuck
It all made perfect sense when she thought about it, really. She gripped Cal back, squeezed her hard, probably too hard if it was anyone other than Cal.
”I… I… fuck, Cal, why does it make so much sense? If Val did do that, it’d explain so much…”
Callan took a breathe, briefly humoring her, "Well, if she did, she made a huge mistake, okay? Doing something like that...," her voice trailed off for a moment, thinking about her parents and how sad and scared they looked the last time she saw them. She could almost picture it. Val's sister staring at Determination's old form while Emma slept. A tall black figure looming by her bedside. Just like her parents had to look at the state of their home and decided she was as good as dead...
"I bet she regrets it," Callan suggested earnestly.
A sob rocked Emma's body.
I'll always be there for you Em. No matter what.
The memory used to be comforting, but now it felt bitter. "She... she promised so many times that she'd never give up on me." Emma's voice was breaking in twenty different places, falling apart.
No easy answer there. Callan slightly tightened her grip, like that might stop the sobbing. She was sorry. Sorry Emma had to go through this. But this time it was going to be different. She wouldn't have to suffer through it alone. Callan wouldn't let her.
"Listen," she smiled bitterly, "We don't know the whole story, Em. There might be more to it." She leaned away, just enough to see her face, "Look, as a big sister myself, I can tell you one thing. Val loved you a lot, okay? I'm sure of it. I'm sure she wanted to help you, too! I don't know what happened but... we'll figure it out!"
Emma didn't know how to feel. Partly reassured, probably, but also still halfway between denial and depression. Was she angry at Val, or did she feel betrayed? Both, but neither. The stigma tore at her but she didn't want to believe what Cal was telling her.
Maybe she felt nothing at all.
"Cal... I don't know what to do. What to think... I feel so fucking empty right now." Emma was crying now, for real, but not just because of Val.
"I understand," she said, wondering if she should tell her why. No, this needed to be about Emma right now. She didn't want to bring her own issues into the mix. Besides, she wasn't so sure it would make her feel any better anyway. She held Emma by the shoulders, her expression becoming more firm, "You need some time..."
She smiled hopefully, "Let's go to my place, okay? Or wherever you want. I don't care." She paused for a moment, "I can go get Marcus?"
Emma looked down for a moment. "Your place. Maybe he'll be there. I just... I don't want to think about it right now. Not until we figure out what really happened."
Callan nodded, "Okay then. Let's g--"
"We're heading out with a strike team, so be ready," Zoe's voice suddenly interrupted, "We'll get more instructions later, and... I'll explain everything once we're together. Over."
Callan looked down at her cuff like it'd suddenly bit her. Fuck... A mission? Now? She looked back at Emma.
Emma's stomach dropped.
"Cal..."
I can't do this. were the words that didn't come out. For a moment she felt sick, and for a half a moment more she felt like running. The distress on her face was plain as day.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
"I-it'll be okay!" Callan reassured her, "We... probably still have time before we have to go. It's..." She floundered. Desperate for a solution that just wasn't there. They'd never let Emma sit out of a fight. She shouldn't be alone right now anyway!
"It'll be okay," she repeated with more confidence, "Trust me, alright? I'll figure something out."
Emma despaired. She could tell Cal was trying. She was a good friend, a better one than she deserved... but her words weren't helping. Emma put her everything into forcing the slightest shadow of a smile. "Right... yeah..." she could not, however, force her agreement to be genuine.
Callan frowned. God fucking damn it... could this get any worse?
"Come on," Callan held out her hand, "Let's at least go back to my room until we get more orders."
Emma grabbed Callan's hand. "I'm... yeah, let's go. Maybe they'll call this whole thing off..." she gave a weak laugh, looking down.
it's wednesday, the fourteenth, sometime in the morning after i hit cal up. i don't really give a shit.
It was good that Emma was still asleep when she came back. It was so nice. She was so close to Emma. She could reach out and touch her, it'd be so easy. She was just thankful that she didn't have to say anything to her, not yet. She just closed her eyes, soaking in the comfortableness of the moment, a stark contrast to what happened on the rooftop only moments ago.
She could lay here forever. Wished she could, too.
"Det?"
Determination's eyes fluttered open. She'd gotten really close to Emma, she hadn't even realized. Their foreheads were touching, but Emma pulled back.
"Sorry."
"Is, uh, something wrong?"
Her voice must've given it away. "Eh. I, uh..." she had to lie but wanted to confess, so she went in between, "Had an awkward talk with Cal this morning. It's nothing."
"With Cal...? Why were you...?"
"Nothing. Really. Forget about it."
Emma sighed. She didn't push any further, instead closed her eyes for a moment. "Mmmm. I don't want to wake up yet."
"Yeah, same."
Suddenly, Riley remembered something.
"Heh. Kinda like New Years 2015." Determination shook her head. What did she just say?
"Hu-" and suddenly it seemed that Emma wasn't so interested in sleeping anymore, shooting up out of the bed. "I'm gonna go get some breakfast. Go ahead and sleep."
She left so quickly.
Suddenly reality hit her. She shot up. Was this morning just a dream?
You haven't dreamed once in your life.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck."
Determination's heart raced.
No, you don't have a fucking heart.
Emma was gone. Breakfast. Was that what she said? Good. She didn't want to see her anymore. She wanted to sleep.
No, you don't sleep, not really.
Bathroom. Bathroom. She had to use the fucking bathroom so bad.
No, you don't have bodily functions, dumb bitch.
She didn't need to pee, but she felt like vomiting. She flung open the bathroom door with no regard, sending it flying into the wall.
No door stop. It left a hole.
She bent over the toilet, her mouth tasted like bile but of course she couldn't vomit.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck."
What the fuck did you do? What the fuck did you do? What the fuck did you do?
She ran back out of the bathroom. Looked for something, something to break. Her foot found the trashcan, sending it flying, instantly cracking the wall and sending crushed balls of paper and empty cup noodles flying everywhere.
Trash. You're trash. You're trash.
"FUCK!"
Think, think.
How do you fix what you did?
There wasn't any fixing it. She was so sure in the moment, so sure. It felt like the right thing to do. To beat Callan down, to make her feel like shit, how could she be so fucking dumb? She was ruining things, ruining one of Emma's two positive relationships.
No you're not. No you're not. You want her for yourself, that's what you're getting, that's why you did it.
"FUCKING BITCH!"
Her next target was the desk chair. She grabbed it, flinging it at the wall. Another crack, the chair split apart.
"Why the fuck did you make me do that?!"
The desk. She flipped the desk, sending Emma's journal and several loose papers flying. Good thing the laptop was left on the floor.
What happened? Where'd it go wrong? Why couldn't Cal have the common fucking courtesy to lie to her dumb fucking face? It could've been so easy.
Her fist found the wall. It flew through to the bathroom.
"Haha, whoops!"
Another fist, another hole.
"Why the fuck didn't you realize Em?!"
She turned around, kicking backwards, finding nothing but air.
"WHY THE FUCK DID YOU DO THIS TO ME?!"
She stumbled, falling to a knee. She didn't know how much more she could break.
"I don't want to be Riley."
Fuck, fuck. Did Riley hate being Riley too?
She rushed to gasp in air, but she didn't have lungs. Her voice cracked. She was trying to cry, but she didn't have tear ducts. She thought she should be sweating right now, but she didn't have sweat glands. She was able to yell obscenities, but she wasn't sure how. She had no vocal chords. Her heart hurt, it hurt so bad, but she didn't have one. She grabbed her index finger and broke it.
"Agh! Fuck!"
The pain was real enough. Did that confirm that she was alive? How could someone with no soul, no heart, no brain be alive? She didn't have blood, instead inky blackness poured from her shattered finger. It would be gone by the time she regenerated.
"Why the fuck am I feeling all these feelings?! I don't need this shit!"
Why couldn't she be a big black emotionless blob? Why was she so fucking angry? Why did she want to trash the shit out of Emma's room? Why did she want to beat Cal's face in? Why was she so jealous of Marcus? Where did everything she was come from? Did Emma make it up? Did Emma want her to feel this way? To capture an image of a person that she couldn't see?
Why the fuck did she love Emma so much?
She was freaking the fuck out, spiraling down. How the fuck did Cal do this to her just by cowering when she yelled? Why couldn't Determination figure out who she was? Why was she so cold? She didn't have a hypothalamus to process body heat.
What the fuck was a hypothalamus?
Wh-
"No, no, no, no, STOP!"
Her thoughts ran a mile a minute inside an empty head, but she cut them off. She needed quiet. Quiet. Couldn't handle everything hitting her at once. What did Riley do? What did she do to stop it? She grabbed the pack of cigarettes from her pocket, lighting one. Outside. She smoked outside, Emma didn't like the smell everywhere. She took a desperate drag, hurrying outside, slamming the door shut behind her and taking off down the hallway.
Another nervous puff. She got it. Something to fixate on. Chemicals that calmed the brain. But she didn't have the ability to process those ch-
No, no. Another drag and she forgot. She willed herself into believing she was something she wasn't. She...
She looked good. She felt good. New clothes, new Determination. She was so cool. People didn't want to mess with her, she looked so badass. She was smokin' hot, Emma fucking loved her. She shook down Cal for trying to hurt her bestie's feelings. That was right, that was justice. Cal wouldn't hurt her. Cal was a lil' bitch! She had super strength but she was so fucking scared of Determination. That was because Determination was way too good! Way, way, way too good! There was no fucking stopping her! Her finger hurt, but she didn't give a shit, she was Emma's DETERMINATION!
And that was fucking perfect. Determination. No one would fuck with Em. Not Cal, not Marcus, not Zhang, not even fucking Dreamcatcher.
She laughed. Erupted with giggles. She was so happy. Another drag and it felt good, not bitter like on the roof. It was like she was feeling things in four fucking dimensions, and now that she was feeling good there was not stopping her. She just had to catch the feeling. Catch it, let it ride and suddenly wow, why was it so fucking cool being Riley? Emma made a good fucking choice, huh?
God, she was so fucking good she wanted to dance, so she did a little dance as she walked. She was spinning on all cylinders. Emma didn't need Cal. Emma didn't need Marcus. Emma didn't need Val. She didn't need her mom, she didn't need Frank, she didn't need her dad, she didn't need Riley, she needed Determination. That was it. She could do it all, she could-
She caught herself, flicking the cigarette away. She had a room to clean, she realized. Didn't want Emma to have to worry about it. She'd need to make an excuse for the holes, but...
Well, she could deal with it whenever Emma came back.
It had been a long ride back to USARILN, and when she returned Emma had only one thing on her mind: Sleep. She headed directly to Suite 318, went right to bed, and crashed.
In a way it felt like she was home.
”Dude, pass the butter. Gotta butter my shit up.” Val said, giving Emma a slight wink, evoking a small snicker came from the girl and a disapproving frown came from their mom.
”Very classy, Val. I'm sure that'll get you a husband in no time.” the mom swiped back after a mere moment.
Val looked down, ”I...” the girl started angrily, but she shook her head, ”Butter, babe?” she said, instantly changing to a much kinder inflection.
”Right. Butter.” Emma said, grabbing the plate and passing it towards her sister.
”So, how's school?” the older sister asked, leaning on her arm as she listlessly buttered up her roll. ”Still kicking ass in trig?”
”Yeah boy. Triangles can't keep me down.”
”Bet. That's what I'm ta-”
And then it all stopped at once. It happened every time. Everything was cloudy, Emma realized, like the bottom of a pond. Something was wrong. What could be wrong? She was back home...
Back from where?
It happened before she realized. They were no longer at their apartment in Tribeca. She was in the car with Val. She was just a kid, but Val was much older. That... wasn't right, was it?
”-lking about. You can't trust those fuckers. They see you... see what you are, they won't like it. Listen, I hate to say it, but you can only trust me. Right?”
”Right. That's all I need. Val, I never sai-”
Her sentence was suddenly cut off by the sound of police sierns. It was in the distance, but enough to put the two of them on alert.
”Not for us. They're too far away, don't worry about it.”
”Yeah. Not for us.”
A fairy flitted in front of the scene, hovering on the car's windshield and unseen by Val. It beckoned to Emma, forward, even though she was strapped in to the passenger seat. Forward.
”So...” Val's words hunt in the air for a moment, ”You'll like California. You shoulda been a valley girl, y'know that?”
”Oh, fuck off.”
”No, for real.”
”Like, totally, no w-” Emma was trying her best valley girl accent, but she suddenly noticed the... fairy? No, no, no, this wasn't right. Where was she? Not in the car with Val... not really, right? She unbuckled the seat belt, leaning forward.
”Em, what're yo-” but suddenly Val stopped. Everything stopped, like time was frozen. And Emma reached out to the fairy. ”I get it...” she was no longer a child- she was her regular self. ”This isn't real, right? Just a dream.” Emma stood up, and the car melted away, and now it was just a road with darkness on either side of them. The phantom form of Val still hung there, now floating where she once was.
The little figure of glowing white and fluttering wings nodded, zipping around Emma quickly. When it finished the beeline, the landscape had changed once more, now just a faded whiteness with a tinge of yellow like old paper. The fairy hovered in front of Emma's face and waved. Then spoke.
"Emma?"
”You... know me?” Emma looked around, ”This isn't... this isn't a normal dream, is it?” Emma looked at her hands. It was too real. ”Are you...” Emma thought for a moment, recalling. It'd been so long since she'd talked to her, or at least it felt like it, ”Vivaldi?”
The little fairy nodded again. "I can look however I like in dreams. And I saw the helicopters arriving recently, so I've been looking."
”You can appear as anything?” Emma asked, looking at the fairy, ”Well, what do you really look like than?”
"Nothing interesting, so here I try to be. And you said you wanted to meet me in the Death and Taxes chatroom, right?"
”I did say that. I was hoping... well, I was hoping for a favor, but a question first. How well does your power work, exactly? I'd be surprised if the answer was yes, but, could you view someone's Awakening? Theoretically?”
"I might have told you, because people ask me this a lot, but I can't. I can try but it's always like something is keeping me out."
”Right. We talked about this, I remember now, but basically to recap our group, uh, 'Experimental Unit B' have been having strange dreams. Or maybe visions, I'm not sure. Usually after a battle, or when something important happens... they seem to be connected to the our powers - whenever we have one, we become stronger. I'm not sure you'd be able to discern anything about them if you saw one, but if you could... I dunno, this is really a shot in the dark, but you seem to be the one that'd know the most about dreams around here. The only one with any way to 'look into' this. I'm just trying to find some meaning to what's happening to us.”
"I've never been lucky enough to catch anything like that, then. If they're related to your powers I think it'd feel the same as the Awakening dreams. Or maybe similar. But I've only found normal dreams...hmm. No. I might have seen something strange once, but it might not be what you're talking about."
The fairy turned to face forward, pointing into an indiscernible horizon that flickered in and of focus until an image formed. A distant boy floated in a sea of stars, and each twinkled to an unknown rhythm. One flashed and the picture crumbled away.
"I thought it was an Awakening dream at first. Because it pushed me out right then, too...but it didn't really feel like one, you know? I don't think anyone else could really understand it, but when you've experienced a sneak peek into the Awakening of others, it's like...something vast shoves you aside. And you can't fight against that current. And it was kind of like that here, but not really--"
”Well...” Emma wasn't learning as much as she hoped to, but she did say this was a shot in the dark, and it really was. It was something, at least, ”I'm not really sure what it means, but I guess there's something greater at work. Dreamcatcher or some shit.”
"Well, of course Dreamcatcher's at work! But you should ask Clark. He's the one who had that weird dream I showed you. The one that was kind of like Awakening but not really? Is that what it feels like for you guys?"
”Clark...?” so it goes all the way back to the gang beneath the medical building, huh? ”It's like... there's an ocean... an ocean of power, and it's right there, right in front of us, but... we can only take a drop of that power. But it's not just power, there's something else, something immense, and with that drop we take a little of that too. There's something dark to it, like... some kind of taint.”
Emma sighed.
”I dunno. That's what it's been like for me.”
"Huh. Weeeeeird," the fairy answered, pulling curiously at its own little skirt like it was examining itself. "Well I can't say I know how that feels, but if Clark doesn't know anything, then oh well. You can also try Hector, too, if you're brave."
Another glimmer through the dreamscape and the car was there again. Val still driving far and away. The fairy floated higher, looking upward at something in the blurry, unreal sky. "I wonder if that's--"
The words vanished along with the mental landscape, wiped clean and reshaping as Emma felt the now-familiar rush of a dream that was and wasn't. Voices overlapped in the distance, mumbling nonsense like they were simply testing the sounds of language.
”V-Vivaldi?” and all at once, everything changed. There was a flicker! In the distance she could feel him, feel Determination, and he was gone. Like rushing water, it came crashing down, like a tremor that shook her to her core. But... it wasn't something else, wasn't something alien, it was her. It was her own power, her force of will, ready to break beyond everything she knew and will ever know. She was so strong! Stronger than she could imagine, but there was something else, something in the distance... no, it was close, so close! Terrifyingly close and terrifyingly there. Undeniably there in a way that nothing else was, looming, looming over her, but it couldn't, it couldn't come in... she was too strong, far too strong, it couldn't just break through her will, but it wanted to, she could feel it.
It wanted to so bad. The storm was gone, rain washed away, it was the storm but the storm was no longer there because it didn't need to be, it was looking for her and it had found its prize. But it couldn't reach in, she could feel it. Madness. Death. It kept trying and trying and trying, the force pushing against her own. But it just couldn't! It was close, closer than ever, but it was denied! She stood against it's might, and all at once it was coming, bearing down on her, closer, closer, closer. And then it was there she could see it, she could see it but it was hazy, hazy, all around her the haze set in, and then suddenly it asked. Asked to be let in, but it wasn't, it wasn't what she thought, it wasn't madness, it wasn't death, it was warmth, it was love, it was...
Riley? ”Riley!”
It was her, it was her, she'd been so far, but now so close, she couldn't... what was happening, where was she? New York, Tribeca, Lake Pleasant, USARLIN East, Wisford, Washington, the island, it all rushed before her, she was everywhere and nowhere but now Riley was there too! And she couldn't say no to that. She couldn't bring herself to.
So she let her in.
And the picture disappeared, burning and melting away until the crack in her safety turned into a fissure. Her shadow lengthened behind her, but it was a demon without form and it reached in, the gap closing too slowly, the other force shaken by the will of its user. A lance through her neck, but there was no blood and no pain, just a quiet peace while the endless monster ate. And what? And what? Voices screamed in her head, the Stigma fat and ready for slaughter. Eaten slowly, feeding a gluttonous force a power it should never have had in the first place.
Too slow. The gap was closing too slowly. Because she didn't want it to. Because Riley was there. And Riley was still there, eyes bright and mouth stretched in a grin so far it nearly split her face in two. Did it know the face of a human? Or was it all too aware?
Was she being eaten? Was she dying? Emma didn't know, couldn't know, but... it felt so right. The stigma roared, roared at her, and she couldn't quiet it, she didn't want to quiet it. Her punishment, her punishment for making the wrong choice, for being weak, for not having the courage to make the right choice.
She would give anything for it to stop but she didn't want it to. An oxymoron she couldn't solve. Her eyes were fixated on Riley, ready to give, ready to give whatever she wanted. In the palm of her hand all over again. She'd sworn off that, but she always knew this was how it was meant to end.
We were made for each other, you know that, right?
And they really were.
They really were.
What was there to fight if she let it in? The protection around her crumbled, falling away in pieces like a broken eggshell. It was around and over and held back the ocean, but what had slipped in was beyond its prevention. All it could do was break under the flow, but there was a light like stars and something felt safe beside her. Riley in front. Riley by her shoulder.
"Emma," a clearer voice sounded. Closer to her ear. Riley's voice and also not. Or was it her voice? The Stigma's? It touched the mark, hand like ice to soothe the burn that did not hurt. "Emma," it called again, and its mouth moved further like it wanted to say more, though no sound came out. If there was a concept of anger, she felt it, and the bright-eyed Riley screamed. ”You abandoned me! Left me, when I needed you most! I thought you loved me, thought that we meant something, but... fuck you Emma, fuck you! I hate you!”
"Emma." Again the voice calling her while her world fell apart around her. The antithesis to self-hate and anger and feelings she would rather leave behind. The mouth moved aimlessly, searching for words and sense and pulling through Emma's thoughts because it couldn't find its own. She could feel it searching like a sieve through her mind and it caught something at last while the worst version of her feelings screamed profanities at her, pulling more from the Stigma and threatening to consume her alive. "Emma. Fight." Words spoken like a learning toddler. It was familiar.
She could hear it all. She was...
Worthless.
Evil.
Two-faced.
Backstabbing.
Hated by everyone.
Boring. So boring. Her existence was so inconsequential, so pointless, devoid of meaning. She could die now and it wouldn't matter.
She could die now and it wouldn't matter.
Her belief system dictated that when she died there would be nowhere to go. Nothing waiting for her. No pearly gates, no Saint Peter, no gods or deities, there was only...
Eternal oblivion.
The only answer she could find. Was she okay with that? Could she live with that? She heard his voice. It was close, so close, so close, where was he, where the hell was he? She wanted to die, she was terrified of death, she couldn't die, she couldn't keep existing, she needed something, needed an anchor, needed...
Marcus. Callan. Determination. Val. Mom and Dad.
Riley.
Riley was here for her, wasn't she? There for her, after all this time. She pushed the voice away. Riley was here, that was all she needed. All she ever needed.
"Emma! Look!" And it was Determination, dashing towards the Riley that snarled like a predator hunting prey. He had vanished. And now he was here. Because she could call on him anywhere. And he could choose to be at will.
The form blasted apart as he neared, a step away from Riley. Again he appeared, running for the impersonator. Because he was her Determination. Undaunted. Unfazed. When it came down to it, he could choose to be.
Shatter. Once more. Torn apart. Once more. Ripped to shreds. Once more.
And he came back, again, but he was no longer the same. He was... he was small. At least, small by his standards, still tall, but not as tall... 6 feet, a little more. Thin, his figure... no, not his figure. Her figure. More human. Girlish, slim, she was... she was the shadow of the person she was fighting. She was the shadow of Riley.
"EMMA!" Determination called again, Riley's voice now. Riley's face. Riley's hair. Her clothes. Because that was what she had wanted. Another burst and Determination disappeared, coming again, every time reaching for the Riley that was eating Emma alive.
Riley, again, another Riley... no, it wasn't Riley. But it was. She knew, she knew who it really was, it was... Determination. But not.
She opened her eyes.
Where was she? What was she doing? She couldn't die, not here. She couldn't submit to the nothingness, could she? There was so much left for her, back home. Where was home? USARILN? Pleasant Lake? Their apartment in Tribeca? They were all home. She hated all of them. But that wasn't what mattered, what mattered was...
Val. Mom and Dad. Callan. Marcus. Riley.
Determination.
She couldn't leave them, she couldn't. This wasn't... this wasn't real, this wasn't Riley, she had to fight, had to fight, fight or die...
She realized that she couldn't die. She wasn't okay with that, not any longer.
So she struggled. She fought, pulling at the lance that pierced her throat.
"We were made for each other, you know that, right?" The Riley in front of her repeated, face curling into an ugly snarl. "Right? ISN'T THAT RIGHT, EMMA?!
”It is...”
It was true. They were. She knew it, always had, an unshakeable truth.
”But...”
She had come so far. Struggled so much. For what? To die in a nightmare, to have everything she was sucked from her? What would happen if she gave in? What would happen if she fought? It was so scary, caught by indecision, but...
If she failed here would she lose everything? Lose the people around her, the bonds she forged? Would it take her powers? Take her stigma?
”I'm... I'm so scared... what's going to happen to me?”
"Emma! I'm here! And only because you are!" For a moment it seemed like Determination almost touched the other Riley with the twisted face and the hand that was a lance--and had it always been? Had it always been her? Determination's fingers almost brushed that Riley's cheek and the figure recoiled like it had been burned. The screech was inhuman. Not Riley. Never had been.
A chorus and a cacophony of sound, but if they were her Stigma they didn't feel like it. Holding back the ocean and the crumbling had slowed. Determination was torn apart again and this time didn't charge forward when it reappeared.
"Are you here?" And the question didn't feel like it came from her Tulpa.
”I don't...”
Maybe death was the better option. Eternal oblivion wasn't so bad when you thought about it – there wasn't a you that was there to care about not existing. And...
”I don't want to fight anymore...”
It was so hard. To struggle. To live. Who cares if she existed anyways? There was a bitter taste in her mouth. Salt. She was crying, she realized. Who was it in front of her? Riley? No, not Riley. But did that matter? She felt like she was sinking. Like she was drowning.
”I'm not strong...”
The sound was breaking her. Determination was gone.
”I'm not a fighter...”
She couldn't feel it, couldn't find the will to fight back.
”I'm so weak.”
It was a dream in an instant. A vision in a flash, the culmination of a promise that was made to tempt. An army of Tulpas, a reigning queen whose subjects followed in complete obedience. Never alone. Fulfilled and happy. She didn't know what she looked like anymore, and everything looked so small, like ants. Something wanted to crush them and it wasn't her. She giggled like it was humorous. The way children didn't know the pain when they tore little bugs apart. A familiar voice below called her name. Scars on his face. She crushed him, too, limbs black and segmented. Jointed like a puppet, stepping on people in her way. Her army of Tulpas took people apart, tearing out ugly parts. Parts she didn't like. They kept only the people she wanted around her. So she would never be alone again, surrounded only by what she liked. A pretty girl with long brown hair ran in front of her, cold steel in her eyes. Colors around her. She was jealous. And the Tulpas took her apart, too.
It was eating. She could feel it. Taking and promising exactly what she wanted.
"Are you here?" the faintest voice asked again, barely a whisper now. The world threatened to crash down on her. The black sea above moved to take in full. It had promised.
No, no, no, no no no no no no.
It was happening again, all over again. Was the realization too late? This was it, this was the dream! The same choice all over again. She had to fight it, had to fight it, she realized. She could fix it. She could make the right choice.
”Here! I'm here!” she called, she struggled, finally fighting against the current, fighting against whatever was consuming her. ”Help! Help!” she called into the nothingness. ”I can't... I can't die here...”
It flashed before her. The man in Washington D.C. that tried to kill her. She gave up then. She gave up now. But it wasn't too late to change, was it? It was true, she wasn't a fighter... but she couldn't let herself stop fighting. She couldn't submit to oblivion.
”I don't want this!” she called out at the vision before her. ”I don't want to die!”
As if sensing the resistance, the pressure surged, pushing against her with its full force, ready to crush her entirely. The Stigma petered away, taken in. Feeding it. Siphoned from her because that was all it had ever needed her for.
The wave pushed up, an ocean below her. The weight above crushed down.
In a brief instant she saw flits and flickers of people who only vaguely resembled their counterparts. Padma, Savannah, Aaron...and others she didn't recognize. A white marked boy with brown, messy hair turned to look at her, his shape more solid than others, his face sharp, almost grumpy, like he had been having an unpleasant conversation until then. Unknown. Faces she had never seen before.
"Not yet. Not now. It's still got you." Threads. Blue and red and white now and she felt them pierce her in a million needles, pulling her away from the scene, away from the boy. Stitching her back in place. "Fuck off somewhere far," the boy shouted as she blinked and the world went white. Silent. Still.
Above it all. The safe haven repaired like she had never left it in the first place. The pressure was gone here, in the absolute silence, and she realized it was a moment to recover. Just a space to breathe that she couldn't stay in for long. She wasn't meant to be here.
"EMMA!" The lance was gone. Riley stood in front of her and the twisted girl shouting profanities had disappeared. Nothing but the screeching around her. It wasn't her own voice. It wasn't the Stigma. Other. More. Something else. And where Riley stood it couldn't approach. It screamed--harsh, grating sounds that would have deafened her in reality. Torn her eardrums to pieces. "What do you want me to do?"
”I...”
Emma didn't know how to answer. She was lost in her dreamscape, unsure of what choices were the right one. ”I don't know. I just want to be safe... I want to do better... I want to make the right choices... but I just wish you were here. Really here... what should I do?”
"Wake up. Tell me you want to wake up."
”Okay... okay, I want to wake up.”
The spreading darkness shook. It trembled. Furious. Livid. The anger of a vast sentience.
It screamed again and the noise cut off. Determination gripped air. A blink. Gripping Riley, deformed. Vile. A facsimile of the person Emma loved. An insult. "This is your dream, Emma. Not hers."
The form twitched, striking at Determination and spasming on the contact. The Tulpa wound its occupied arm back, a baseball pitch Emma had never taught it. And threw.
The crack disappeared. The strange haven of safety that was for Emma alone healed. The presence faded almost entirely. A heartbeat passed.
Emma woke up.
She was in her bed. Everything was normal. Determination was nowhere to be seen. She shot up, instantly heading out of the room, hoping not to wake her roommates. Down the hall, down the stairs, and she was gone out the door. The cool night hair was refreshing – she was drenched in sweat. She pulled out her ph-
Emma?
The voice was... Riley?
Unless... she summoned Determination, who sure enough still held her ex's appearance ”What... happened to me?” she said, clearly aware of her change in form.
”I... I don't know, I'm just glad we got out of there.”
”What? Out of where?”
Emma gave the Tulpa a inquisitive glance. ”The... the dream, and...”
The shadow of Riley was clearly confused. The tulpa's expressions were much easier to read now- it had a face, a real face. ”Are you okay? What are you talking about?”
It was just a dream...? No, not just a dream, but the Tulpa clearly didn't remember it.
”Never mind.” Emma said, pulling out her phone. She doubted that Vivaldi would have many more answers than she did, but it was worth checking in. As Emma began typing on her phone Determination set about looking at her new body.
”Does... this mean I'm a her now?”
”I... I guess? I mean... it's your thing to pick!” this was way too real of conversation for her to be having with her Tulpa.
”I... guess I am a 'her', now, in that case.”
Emma thought that was probably something you should be sure about, but didn't comment. Instead she picked a direction to wander, not content to return to sleep.
”Hey, Emma, wait up!”
It was all very strange. Riley was back with her, but she wasn't. And... and there was something else... the voices in her head were quiet. So quiet. Where did they go?
10/8
God he was awkward.
Here he stood outside Suite 318, anxiously trying to decide between actually knocking on the door and just running away to hide in his room like a frightened schoolboy. He was wearing an unbuttoned shirt overtop a plain T-shirt, and if he had been dumb enough to actually try and go find more than dandelions, he probably would have brought flowers. This shouldn't have been so difficult for him to do; they'd been dating for nearly a month now. And yet, it still seemed like they were on rocky ground to him. Sure, they'd been on a few dates before Wisford, and had hung out in La Plata, but everything that had happened in DC had threatened to bring them back to square one in his mind...or worse.
You know what? He was worrying to much.
Taking a slight breath, he knocked on the door, desperately hoping it would be Emma that answered. He really didn't want to deal with asking for Emma like a small boy talking to someone's parents.
Marcus didn't have to wait long. Almost as soon as he knocked there was the sound of motion behind the door followed by a couple of hushed sentences between indiscriminate voices. And then after another moment the door opened, but instead of the expected Emma was a girl that Marcus didn't recognize. She was tall- taller than Marcus. A little above six foot if someone had to guess. Tall and narrow, with long blue hair swept over to one side of her head.
”Uh, who're you?”
Marcus had anxiously been looking down the hallway when the door opened, and he turned quickly to greet whoever it was. Only, it wasn't someone he knew. This was a completely different person, a large woman that he didn't recognize, and that looked like he would be better off not bothering. The kind of face that clearly showed a no-nonsense attitude, and the colored hair to match. Marcus nearly recoiled in surprise at the sight of her opening the door; it was clear that he'd made a mistake somewhere.
"O-oh! I'm sorry...I think I must have the wrong room." Marcus said, looking over to the plate on the outside of the door. 318: this was the right room. But then...where was...?
"I apologize, you don't happen to know an Emma Halwell, do you?" he asked, confusion starting to settle over him.
”Oh, yeah, sure thing dude. Come on in.” she said, holding the door open for him, ”Emma! There's a boy here for you!” she called out. Emma came around the corner from the bedroom, ”Oh, hey Marc! How's it goin'?” she said, doing her best to sound chipper, wondering if she'd looked as bad as she'd felt. Sleep had been fleeting since Wisford, worse after Washington and the island, and nearly non-existent after the nightmare. Her hair was awry and her eyes were lined with heavy bags- it probably wasn't hard for Marc to tell.
"Thanks...?" Marcus said, eyes nervously darting up and down the new figure. They had never met, had they? As far as he knew, he'd never even seen this person before; there was no way she was in their class, was there? He stepped in, looking to Emma with a clear confusion in his eyes, as if pleading for help without saying anything. "I'd say I'm doing pretty well." He said, finally turning to give Emma his full attention. "I was just wondering...now that we're back and everything...did you want to head to CC and grab some drinks again?"
”Yeah, we could do that.” the girl took a seat on the couch, flipping through channels, apparently no longer interested in their conversation, ”You mind if I get dressed first?”
"Not at all...I'll just...wait out here." Marcus said, sitting down on the nearest chair. His mind was still racing, trying to figure out who this person was. Emma was roommates with Lawrence (he had the dog)...and Hazel (she had given Emma the suit of armor). Maybe Hazel had been moved after she lost control in Wisford?
”Right. I'll be just a second.” Emma moved into the bedroom, spending a few moments picking up garments before deciding on an outfit. ”Don't look, alright?” she said jokingly, disappearing into the bathroom, door cracked open behind her.
He grinned at her as she disappeared, eyes immediately averting and face reddening as he noticed the slight stream of light coming from the bathroom. That wasn't....an invitation, was it? The way she'd said it....the door being left open...was that on purpose!?
A hundred thoughts flew through his mind in the span of a few seconds, none of them thoughts that he would ever dare to voice out loud. In the midst of his own conflicted mind, and looking for something to distract him from his quickly reddening face. The new girl. He should at least try and be friendly, right? God, he never knew how to talk to complete strangers.
"So...you uhh...are you one of Emma's roommates?" he asked cautiously, looking curiously around the room.
”Eh? Oh... OH! You probably don't recognize me, do you? I'm Determination.” the girl said, grinning, ”So I guess that'd make that a yes!”
"You what?" Marcus stammered, the words escaping from his mouth before he could dutifully process them.
”Uh, yeah. I'm Determination.” Determination leaned a little towards Marcus, raising her eyebrows, ”I look fiiiine now, huh?” she said quietly.
"Bwuh?" Another noise escaped Marcus's mouth. What was happening here? Who was this woman that was coming on to him? Was this a test?
He hopped his chair back once to try and put a small amount of distance between himself and the new girl. His face was quickly reddening even more, and he finally managed to put his thoughts together coherently. "Determination. Like...Emma's Determination. Real big? Looks like a shadow man? Tore the top of a lighthouse off? That Determination?"
”Yep! One and the same. Freaky, huh?”
His eyes scanned her face, looking for some sort of evidence that would tell him that she was joking. There was none...but more importantly, she didn't have a mark on her face. That fact alone was almost as confusing as the rest of it; if she didn't have a mark, then that meant that either she was a Reg, or...
"Emma! Marcus called out to the bathroom, his tone slightly distressed.
”What?!” Emma called out, not moving to come out of the bathroom, ”I'm still changing, just gimme a minute!”
"This person out here telling me she's actually Determination, the big, intimidating shadow dude, is she telling the truth?"
”Oh... oh, shit! Yeah, sorry, I should've briefed you on that... uhhhh, yeah, yeah she is.”
"Oh...okay...cool." Marcus half shouted back, not relaxing at all. Why was he so freaked out...it wasn't like it was the weirdest thing he'd seen yet. Determination was just a person now. A large, attractive looking, female person.
Maybe it was the weirdest thing he'd seen so far.
"Uhh..." he started, eyes flicking over the woman in his effort to comprehend. "Well then...I guess it's nice to meet...er...re-meet you, Det!" he finished, nervously sticking a hand out to her.
The tulpa looked down for a moment. It muttered something under its breath, seemingly lost in thought, before suddenly looking up. ”Right! Sorry! Nice to meet you, uhhhh...” she said, reaching out her hand and shaking his.
Determination didn't remember him? Was that something that happened during her...transformation? Did the tulpas remember anything between 'lives'? He made a mental note to ask Emma some of these questions later, when they were out of earshot.
"Marcus. Marcus Howell."
”Oh right! Marcus, I remember now, with the...” Determination scanned Marcus's face, ”Uh, face.” she said, her smile turning into a 'whoops, sorry' kind of grimace.
"Yep. Guy with the face. Nailed it, buddy." Marcus said, giving a thumbs-up. It felt weird to address this new Determination so casually; he...she...was a completely different person now. "Emma's boyfriend? Makes all the funny jokes? Can flash forward and backward? Told you to throw a lighthouse at people?" Marcus said, trying to jog her memory.
”Yeah, no, no, gotcha!” she said, smiling. It was a good thing he was oblivious enough that he didn't realize she was very impolitely alluding to his scars. ”Nice to re-meet you, Marcus!”
Thankfully Emma came out now, here to diffuse some of the awkwardness. Her hair was now in order, and even her eyes looked a little better – she was quietly thankful for the existence of make-up. She was a little more dressed too, now donning tight fitting jeans, a pastel blue shirt, and an olive drab cardigan. ”Ready to go?”
"Absolutely! Marcus said, a little bit too eager to get away from the encroaching weirdness that was Determination. "It looks good on you!" he commented, jutting his elbow out to escort Emma; as if they were two high-schoolers back at prom.
"So, what do you think about bubble tea?"
”Haven't really had it that much. Or... ever, I guess. I'm willing to give it a try.” Emma said, taking his arm and steering him towards the door. As she did Determination got up to come as well, much to her surprise.
”Errrr... you mind if I fly solo tonight?”
The Tulpa paused for a moment. It was clear that she wasn't happy to hear that. ”Right. Okay! Drinks out on the town, have fun guys!" she said, forcing a grin and resuming her position on the couch before grabbing the remote and beginning to idly flip through channels.
"We'll bring you back something! Don't burn the place down while we're gone!" Marcus said, likely only making the situation more awkward.
"Looks like we're off!" he finished, grinning at Emma.
"So, if we're being completely honest, I didn't check to see if there was anywhere in CC that actually sold bubble tea." Marcus said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head with his free hand. They'd taken the bus into town, making small talk the whole way over, and a few minutes of walking the streets looking for somewhere to get the bubblefied beverage had turned up nothing so far. Another point for Marcus and his incredible planning capabilities.
”Impressive as always, Marc.” Emma said with a coy smile, ”Well, I'm sure there's a place around here. They were all the rage way back when, right? Check your phone?” she suggested.
"I guess; we had a single one near where I lived, and everyone seemed obsessed with it. Seemed popular, at least." Marcus said, pulling his phone from his pocket. He swiped away the text message from 'Sam I Am' (Likely another tabloid about him that he didn't feel like asking the excitable girl about) and pulled up the maps.
"Looks like...there's one a block thataway." Marcus said, looking around and lining up his directions. "I think. Sounds like a trendy tea place." he said, looking through the description.
”Sounds good. Let's go.” she said, steering them in the direction of the shop, ”My sister drank a lot of this stuff when she moved to California. Apparently it's on like, every block over there. So it can't be too bad, eh?”
"I guess?" Marcus shrugged. 'Everyone likes it therefore it can't be bad' wasn't exactly the best train of thought, but he supposed it was reasonable enough. "I've never had it myself, but my sister's...friend sings its praises." Marcus said, words catching for a moment as he tried to classify Sammie.
"First time for everything I suppose!"
”That's the spirit.” Emma paused for a moment, before deciding to shift the subject, ”So, how're you holding up? Y'know, with everything that's going on.”
"Ehhh..." Marcus said, unwilling to elaborate much further than that. "Pretty much the same as after Wisford or D.C, do what you can, you know?" he said, a hurried shrug following his relatively sort answer.
"How about yourself? I could ask you the same question." Marcus continued, hopefully deflecting any further probing into the matter.
”Eh.” Emma agreed, ”I guess it's a silly question, current circumstances considered. Shit sucks here, I guess that's all there is to say about that.” Emma sighed, ”Still, could be worse right? At least most of our 'teammates' here aren't... aren't completely shitty. For the most part.”
Yeah, they weren't all completely shitty: Ernie had threatened to kill him, Chris had lit him on fire, Siena had made that request of hers, He didn't even know what Brent was thinking, and Zoe was...Zoe. It certainly seemed to him like most of his 'friends' at USARILN had turned out to be ticking time bombs.
"Yeah, it's a shitty place and a shitty situation." Marcus agreed, sighing heavily. "But hey, at least some of the 'coworkers' are worth hanging out with." he said, lightly bumping his shoulder against hers with a mischievous grin.
”Yeah, well...” Emma sighed again, ”I'm sick of talking about this place. You mentioned your sister, tell me about her.”
"Biggest pain in the ass you've ever met." Marcus said, shaking his head and grinning. "Nah, I kid, she's pretty cool. Three years older than me, always had my back whenever shit went south. Flies jets for a living and gets to hang out in North Carolina where it's nice and sunny all the time. She's living the life, I'll tell you that much."
”Damn, I wouldn't mind flying jets. Shit's gotta be better than this, at least. But yeah, she sounds pretty cool.” Emma side-eyed Marcus, ”So you're telling me we're both from New York, have awesome older sisters, have almost the same last name, and we're out here fighting monsters conscripted by the government? Man, what're the odds of that?”
Marcus thought about the statement for a second, rolling all the information over in his head. "I didn't know your sister was older! Huh....that is weird..." Marcus said, his mind clearly having been blown by the comparison. "You don't think our friend in the cocoon has anything to do with that, do you? Maybe he's just got a 'type'? Short, New York, and susceptible to super-powers?" he said with a chuckle.
Emma shrugged, ”I dunno man. Ask me, I don't think DC gives a shit about us. He strikes me more as the... Azatoth kinda guy. But like I said, I dunno, I'm not one to speculate on the nature of weird quasi-deities.”
"Aza-who?" Marcus said, cocking an eyebrow and looking at Emma.
”Ever heard of H.P. Lovecraft? He was an author, me and a friend were super into him back in the day. Into all kinds of occult shit, I guess. Anyways, Lovecraft had this whole pantheon of gods in his stories. 'Outer Gods'... they're, like, really shitty gods and didn't really care. They think in like five dimensions and people really have no idea what their game is because it's way too complex for us. Anyways, Azatoth was the king of the Outer Gods, but he like... he created the universe, but it was an accident, and in Lovecraft's universe one day he'll destroy the universe and that'll be an accident too. He's just an incoherent mass of crazy power. The 'Blind Idiot God'. And I think that's kinda like DC... or maybe I want to think that.” Emma shrugged, ”I'm just being stupid, don't worry about it. We were just kids into weird shit, y'know?”
"Oh. I...see..." Marcus said, a slight twinge of hesitation in his voice. He knew of Lovecraft, but his childhood hadn't exactly been full of the occult and praying to the outer gods. Still, it wasn't exactly his place to decide what kind of hobbies were 'appropriate'.
"You know what?" he said, trying to replace his hesitation with support. "I can appreciate a story where the god is just a big bumbling moron. Makes me feel better about myself at least." he added with a chuckle. "If the world ends, I guess I'd prefer it be because someone tripped over the universal power cable or something."
”Yeah...” Emma shrugged, ”Y'know, either way I don't think DC's all he's cracked up to be. People worship him, but... well, what has he done for us, eh? Shit hit the fan and he decided to take a nap. If he's a god, he's not one I'm gonna worship.” Emma's face reddened, ”Sorry, religion is one of those things you're not supposed to bring up on a date, right? My b.”
"Nope, too late, everything's ruined." Marcus chuckled, tactfully avoiding giving his own opinions on the matter. "You want to ask me about my political standing too? While we're checking all those boxes, Ms. Blushie McRedFace?" he said, grinning down at her in an effort to see how crimson she could possibly get.
”Oh yeah, totally. We can also talk about our exes well we're at it, eh?”
"You know, I was just thinking this date needed an awkward, screeching halt!" Marcus said. "I think that's our place up there." he added, nodding at the small sign. 'The Whistle Sip', if it was any indication.
”'The Whistle Sip'? Well... that's an interesting name.” Emma looked at it for a second before moving to head in, ”And this place has bubble tea? Sounds more like an... English kinda place.”
"Store owner's got a hard-on for the English. We have bubble tea," a young man spoke from behind them. "Sorry, just arrived for my shift. Heard you talking."
”Oh yeah, alright. Sounds good, thanks.” Emma wished she had her scarf right now. She had no doubt that if she turned around the conversation's tone would change very suddenly. She elbowed Marcus forward, ”Let's go in.”
Unfortunately for them the employee was fast, used to servicing needy customers and always ready to help out. "I'll get the door for you," he answered, stepping past them to reveal a tall, curly-haired brunette with a smattering of freckles across his nose. "Welcome to--" he paused, eyes dashing from Emma's neck to Marcus's cheekbone and widening, "--the Whistle Sip...." There was a quiet beat of silence and he scratched his head and pulled open the door slowly. "There's...uh...a good corner table in the back if you want."
Marcus's hand almost met the employee's as he reached for the door handle, but he was just a touch too slow. He met the young man's eyes as they darted from mark to mark, giving an unsure smile that seemed to say 'whoops, you caught us'. It wasn't the capital, but Marcus had almost grown complacent when it came to people noticing the white streak across his face. An island exclusively full of subnaturals had left him a little less cautious than he probably needed to be.
"Thank you." Marcus said, trying to seem as friendly as possible to the employee. "You want to grab one of the incognito tables?" he asked Emma, stepping inside slightly so he wasn't blocking the door.
”Yeah, sure.” Emma said quickly, heading through the door, muttering a ”Thanks.” as she passed the employee. She quickly shot to the corner, trying her best to not draw anyone's attention.
The same employee came up to them soon afterwards, now properly decked out in his server's apron and white button-up. It was a simple cafe, but the owner clearly had a demand for old world aesthetics with wrought iron decor and vintage floral arrangements. Guests, on the other hand, were dressed down and seemed entirely unaffected by the small place's attempt at opulence. Most of them hadn't paid much attention to Emma and Marcus as they entered and with their corner table safely tucked away from the majority of the patrons, they were left relatively alone.
"Hi! I'm Jonathan and I'll be your server today," he spoke, the words coming out a bit less cheery than expected while he placed two laminated menu sheets on their table. "We have drinks, snacks, and several entrees here, and we do have bubble tea, so take your time choosing and I'll be back in a bit to check up on you."
He darted away as quickly as he had come, returning to the long bar counter and exchanging hushed comments with the man standing behind it.
"Ooh, snacks! Marcus cooed, browsing over the menu for a moment. "Do you think if we ask nicely, we can get the owner to bring out some candlesticks? It's a very fancy place." he remarked, looking around the room and admiring the decor. He also took a quick glance at the bar, attempting to discern if they were about to get thrown out for no reason; head on a swivel and all that jazz.
”I wouldn't chance it... uh, Johnathan seems nice, though. As nice of a server as we can hope for, all thing considered.” she watched as he walked to the bar and talked to the guy behind it. ”That's making me nervous though.” Emma said quietly.
"And he hasn't thrown my ID in the ice cream yet!" Marcus joked, skimming over the menu some more. "By those standards, I'd say he's doing an excellent job."
His eyes flicked back to the bar and back to Emma for a moment, before he lowered his voice. "If you're feeling uncomfortable or want to leave, I'll be right behind you. Just let me know." he said reassuringly.
”Let's just wait it out. What's the worse that can happen? We've got superpowers, eh?” Emma said quietly, scanning the menu, ”Besides, I want my tea.”
"That's the spirit! Marcus said excitedly. Pretty much the exact point he'd tried to make way back at La Plata (although he would admit that he may have been more confrontational than absolutely necessary); they were superheroes. Even if they did get tossed out, there wasn't really much that could be done - they'd just find somewhere else to go.
Jonathan returned, surprisingly, with a tray of cake samples, the tiny toothpicks wrapped with colorful plastic at their ends like little flags. There was a selection of strawberry cream cake, ganache cream, chocolate butter, tiramisu, and green tea chiffon all placed in a neat circle. "I've let the owner know so he's not going to find out by surprise and as long as there's no trouble, you're welcome to have some of our dessert samples. He would prefer you stay in this table, though, to not disturb the other guests."
Emma gazed at the cake platter, clearly pleased, letting out a slight 'Oooooo' as they were plached in front of them, ”Thank you, we understand.” Emma said with a smile. This was certainly going better than expected, at the very least.
Marcus made his own cooing noise as the desserts were set down, smiling at their server. "I'd say that's perfectly reasonable, thank you Johnathan!"
"Are you ready to order or do you need a few more minutes?"
"I think we're ready!" Marcus said, looking to Emma as he did. "Ladies first, of course."
”Yeah, I'll get, uhh... the milk tea? With boba.”
"Two please!" Marcus interjected, jerking as he remembered something. "Three, actually. The third one in a to-go cup if it's possible."
"Sure thing. I'll have that right out." A quick moment of scribbling and the waiter was gone, disappearing into the back end for their orders.
”Thanks!” she called after him as he left before turning to Marcus. ”Very thoughtful. I'm sure she'll appreciate the to-go-cup. Man, it's... weird. She's acting so much like a real person now, it's a little off-putting. Like, her personality has uncanny valley. If that makes sense.” that wasn't the only reason Emma felt awkward about Determination, but she didn't really feel like elaborating.
"Oh trust me, I completely understand. You left me in a room alone with her, it's definitely a little bit awkward." Marcus said.
”Y'know, I don't think that I mentioned, but part of my power is that we have, like, telepathy and she's talking to me right now. As we speak. It like... never stops.”
"Oh! That does sound weird." Marcus said, his curiosity starting to peak out. "Can you talk back to her? Wait, can she hear what we're saying!?"
”Yes, I can talk back. No, she can't hear what we're saying. It's not like she knows what I'm doing or anything... just communication. Although if she really want to she could poof right next to us and join us, because apparently she can summon herself now. All this stuff is probably crazy useful when next time we have to fight something, but geez, is it annoying as hell.”
"She can summon herself? So...if you don't like her always being around, and just...poof her away, she can just pop right back up?"
”Yep. Pretty much. But... y'know, I wouldn't get rid of her anyways.” Emma sighed, shifting in her seat, ”I mean, it's weird and crazy to have her around, and sometimes aggravating but... you saw. The last thing she wants is to be 'poofed away'. And... hanging out with her all the time isn't that bad.” Emma said with a slight smile.
"It's like, a friend! That you always have around. All the time." Marcus said, his enthusiasm growing more unsure with every pause. "You see about getting her into some hobbies."
”She never...” Emma cleared her throat, ”She doesn't seem the 'hobbies' type. Can't really picture her sitting down and knitting or some shit, she's much more interested in annoying me and watching TV.”
"God, you make her sound like an annoying younger sibling or something." Marcus said, chuckling slightly. There was a thought that crossed his mind, one that got caught up in the stream of curious questions coming out his mouth:
"So who is she anyway?" he asked, quickly moving to clarify. "Like, did Determination just see a magazine or a television show and decide 'I want to look and act like her now'? Or is she just some completely new person?"
”She's...” oh boy, that sure was the question of the hour. Who was she? How much should Marcus know? Would he be jealous? Would she hurt his feelings? ”An old friend of mine.” it wasn't a lie, it just wasn't the complete truth. ”A good friend. I guess... maybe I did without meaning to. Maybe she latched on to someone I wanted to see. I dunno.”
"Huh!" Marcus said, nodding in acknowledgement. "So the personality and everything comes directly from her? That...neat."
”Yeah, it's... very accurate. What's weird is... it's like she's here, really here, but she's hundreds of miles away and isn't involved with any of this. And... I kind of like her being around, but in the back of my mind I know that she's not real.” maybe that was more than Emma intended to say, but it felt good confiding in Marcus. Even if that information would make the truth sting more she wanted to get it off her chest.
"God, can you imagine if they met eachother? That'd be pretty wild!"
”That... doesn't strike me as a good idea. I don't think she'd be super into the idea that I accidentally created a clone of her, but...” Emma perched her head on her shoulder, looking down towards the table, ”Wait, she'd be totally into that. Still, I don't think Determination needs that kind of existential crisis.”
"Listen, if she's going to be an actual person, she needs to catch up on that train. Dude's got existentializing and over-thinking to catch up on if she's going to join the 'real boy' club!" Marcus said, chuckling.
”Yeah, well... I'm sure that there are already enough philosophical dilemmas thrown into her existence before we hit that one. I feel kinda bad... like, I know she's working through a lot. She's been getting into it, reading all this shit by Sartre, Kierkegaard, Nietzsche, y'know... I didn't imagine she'd be so into philosophy, but I guess it makes sense. Finding reason and all that heavy shit.”
"Really? That's some heavy stuff, Doc." Marcus said, his voice trailing off a little bit. Determination had real life thoughts, feelings, and wanted a sense of purpose? That was more than a little weird to think about, considering he had barely been human shaped only a few months ago.
”I mean, really, who are we to say that she's not... a person? She might be... 'made up', but she's become pretty much indistinguishable from a human at this point. Like, if we didn't already know where she come from I sure as hell wouldn't be able to tell. I mean, how the fuck do we moralize this shit? Ugh... it's just... like, it feels weird, being her 'creator' and everything. I have no clue how I'm supposed to handle this shit.”
"Hey, maybe that's the best way to deal with it." Marcus said, snagging a cake sample. "Just be open and say like 'Listen, I have zero idea what's going on'. Honesty, you know?" he finished, punctuating his sentence by shoving the cake-pop in his mouth.
”Yeah, maybe.” Emma looked down at the platter, ”Shit, I kinda forgot this was here. I'd much rather talk about cake than this.” Emma said, grabbing a fork and swiping a bite of the tiramisu. ”Damn, that's pretty fucking good.” she said, speaking through a full mouth covered by her hand.
"I know, right?" Marcus said after swallowing his bite. "Remind me to give John an extra tip!"
"Can we tip with these cards?" Marcus added after a moment, suddenly lost in thought.
”Uh, don't see why not? Probably just like a debit card, right? A debit card that they give superpowered teenagers, that is.” Emma said, spearing a piece of the chocolate butter cake. ”You think this place is expensive? This complementary cake platter seems pretty fancy.”
"I...hope not?" Marcus said, with sudden worrying uncertainty. It did all seem fairly fancy, he had no idea how much money was on his card, and he had no idea when they refilled. That was...probably something he should have been more aware of.
”I mean, Rosa did toss us a bunch of free, very expensive, swag just by request. I get the feeling that they don't really give a shit how much we spend.”
"True, but I did think they put a limit on it. It'd be a little embarrassing to run out here." Marcus said, a thought catching in the back of his mind as he turned accusingly at Emma.
"Did you just call it 'swag'?"
Emma shrugged, ”What? It's a thing people say. Stuff we all get?”
"No, I understand what it means, I've just never heard it dropped into conversation like that." Marcus chuckled.
”Pffft, not my fault you got no swag, Marc.”
Marcus sat silent for a moment. He wasn't stunned or hurt, he just wanted to savor the sentence as it hung in the air; see if Emma wanted to take it back at any moment. When it didn't come, Marcus just chuckled slightly to himself, enjoying another cake sample. Finally, when he'd finished his bite, he rolled his eyes at her.
"Guuurl, you cray; you know that?"
”Okay, we're done.” Emma broke out into laughter, ”That was too much. I'm tapping out. Hope single life treats you well.”
"Oh lawd, that's what does it. Two hearts torn apart not by betrayal or anger, but by saying dumb shit to eachother." Marcus said, attempting a Shakespearean tone as he clutched his chest.
”Ooooh, and yet, he keeps going. I'd strongly recommend quitting while you're ahead.” Emma said, her smile turning into a subdued smirk.
"Alright, quitting." Marcus said, giving Emma a quick wiggle of the eyebrows as he grinned at her, finishing off the bit of cake sample he had left.
”Good choice, Howell.” she said, grinning back. ”So, now that that's done... with... that...” she said, swiping another bite of cake.
By the time the drinks came out, Marcus and Emma had been shooting back and forth like that for a while. The rest of the date went fairly smoothly, save for Marcus's realization that he wasn't actually the biggest fan of Boba. Something about a drink with little chewy solid bits in it really didn't tickle his fancy. But, it had never been the tea that he'd come for - it had been the opportunity to hang out again, as a couple. They left the tea shop quickly, attempting to sneak out before anybody realized they were subnaturals, and giving Johnathan a substantial tip - he'd been good to them, after all.
As they left a familiar form rounded the corner. ”Heeeeeey! I got bored of hanging out.” Determination narrowed her eyes at the to-go cup in Marcus's hand, ”Oooo, gimme.” she said, swiping it from him greedily. ”Uh, thanks!” she said with a clearly forced smile. "Nice." Emma commented idly.
It took a few moments for Marcus to actually figure out who the person was, and the sudden swiping of the drink had left him flustered and clawing at the air where it had been taken away from him. He settled down once he realized it was Determination, but he wasn't super fond of the sudden intrusion.
"Hey, Det!" he said, not exactly with the most enthusiasm ever. "Figured you'd appreciate the drink. A toast to your new life, or something?"
”Riiiiiiight. Cool, cool.” Determination took a sip before shooting a clearly annoyed Emma a toothy grin, ”Oof. Don't want me interrupting your date? C'mon, my new pal Marcus doesn't mind, right?”
"I mean...I don't think..." Marcus stammered slightly, looking to Emma for assistance. "You should probably at least say something before you show up. That way I don't think I'm getting boba mugged."
”Aw, c'mon man, the surprise is what makes it fun!” Determination said, halfheartedly throwing her arms in the air to accentuate her point. ”Beeeeeesides, I wanted my drink.” she said, stealing another sip.
Emma did not look as enthused as she did.
"Hey now; patience is a virtue, you know!" Marcus scolded.
Uh-oh.
If there was one thing that Emma knew about Riley, it was that she did not respond well to scolding... or people telling her what to do in general.
”Hey, jackass, you're not my mom, s-”
”Okay, okay, that's enough, cut it out, c'mon.” Emma interrupted, waving a hand in front of herself, ”You should head back to the dorm. Really.”
”Hey, man, c'mon!”
”No, you should go. It won't be that long until I'm back.”
”Pffft. Fine, whatever, message received.” She said, muttering something under her breath, clearly disgruntled as she disappeared into thin air.
”Well... that was... bad.”
"She seems nice." Marcus said, slightly disgruntled. He hadn't meant to start an argument, but he couldn't exactly apologize for it either; it was like dealing with a child, almost. Only, one that was bigger than him and could probably break him in half like a chocolate bar.
"Remember when she'd just stand there in the corner looking creepy? Instead of all the sass?" he said, chuckling a little bit. It wasn't entirely a joke, but Emma didn't need to know that.
”Yeah, well...” Emma sighed, ”She's exactly like her. My friend, the one she looks like? She's... rough around the edges, I know, but... she's not a bad person. Well, maybe she is, but... people are complicated and all that. Riley... she always wanted people to think of her a certain way, so she was loud and abrasive, but that's not all of who she is. Determination isn't really Riley, I know, but she's close. So... I dunno, don't think of her too harshly, please?”
Marcus grumbled slightly, rolling his eyes. After a moment, he shook his head, but couldn't help hold back the slight smile on his face. "Gawd. Fiiiine." he said, dramatically putting his hands on his hips. "But only because you asked so nicely. And I'm definitely not buying her boba next time!"
”Right. Thanks, Marc.”
She just had to hope that he never found out the truth. With all that she'd said today... that'd really suck. Probably more for him than her.
10/9
Moving to... Room 203. I wonder who was here before me?
Emma left Suite 318 with a handful of boxes and a creepily accurate facsimile of her ex-girlfriend in tow. She didn't have a lot to move, and she didn't really intend to leave, not originally, but it was just getting too... weird. She'd wanted to avoid the conversation with Lawrence about the regular that hung out in their room all the time (she didn't think Hazel would've even noticed), and even though she'd still have to explain it eventually she'd rather waylay the inevitable. And besides, it was unfair of the two to ask for them to put up with another almost-person. Two roommates was already too many for Lawrence anyways, he'd like the extra space. Still... she hoped Hazel wouldn't take it the wrong way.
"So, we tired of hanging out with the creepy bangs girl and Mr. 'Wow-look-at-me-I-sure-don't-give-a-fuck' all the time?" Determination asked. Yep, that was exactly how she didn't want her change in address to be taken. "Or do you just want me all to yourself?" she winked.
Wow, that's fucking creepy. It really was scary how much Determination acted like her now. In... a lot more ways than she would've wanted. "No and no. It's just... easier this way," Emma sighed, starting down the hallway, "And I'd prefer if you didn't say things like that. I've got a boyfriend, in case you're forgetting."
"Oh, yes, of course, wouldn't want to upset Marcus. Chivalrous, funny, cute Marcus. I-" Determination cleared her throat, shifting her weight uncomfortably. "Sorry. Don't know what's getting into me."
"Yeah, you and me both." Emma said, except she knew exactly what it was. She was acting more and more like Riley. "Whatever, let's just get going."
"Meow."
They had made it about halfway through the courtyard between Building and Building B before getting distracted
"Hey, Em, you hear that?"
"Huh? Hear what?"
"Meow!"
"Okay, c'mon, you can totally hear the cat, can't you?"
"What cat?"
It was at that moment Emma felt something rubbing against her legs. "Oh, that cat." Emma set the small stack of boxes down next to her, reaching down and petting the cat, more a kitten, really. It was a tabby - dirty with no collar. "Huh, no tags. A stray?"
"Looks like it. We should totally, like, take it!"
"We don't need a cat. It's not like we'd be around enough to take care of it, with all the adventures Zhang has us going out on."
"Ah, shit, you're right, but... cat! Dude, I know you want it."
"Ugh... that might be true, but what I said still stands. Let's keep going."
"Woooow, that's, like, totally no fun."
Emma picked up the boxes, continuing to walk, "Yeah, well. I'd rather not have a cat to neglect."
"Couldn't we like, just, have a tulpa around here on cat duty?"
"That's... an awful idea."
Determination gave up, crossing her arm and putting on an exaggerated pout, "Fine, whatever."
Room 203. "And here we are. Our new... 'home'." Emma sighed, grabbing the key she received in the mail. She opened the door and... well, it was small. A lot smaller than the suite, but that shouldn't have been a surprise.
"Not a lotta room." Determination commented, looking over Emma's shoulder.
"Yeah. Well, not too big of a deal. It's enough."
"Only one bed."
"You used to like taking the floor."
"I also was a shadow, not a teenage girl."
Emma made no further comment, walking inside and placing her boxes on the bed. "Well, guess I better start unpacking." she said with a small sigh. "Not like I have a lot to unpack, but..."
"Yeah... we're alsoooooo gonna need to make space for this guy..." Determination said, biting her lip and looking down, holding up the tabby cat they saw earlier.
"Oh, c'mon..."
"What? I love cats! And I know you do too. He was following us, and... oh, c'mon, I just want the cat dude!"
That was - wait, what? Emma never remembered mentioned to Determination that she liked cats. "Ugh... fine, but it's up to you. I'll give you my card, run into town and get, like, food and shit. A litter box. A place for it to sleep. Okay? And you're going to have to bathe it, it's filthy."
It was a chilly afternoon, and Emma was having a mild panic attack. She wasn't quite sure why – no, that was a lie, she knew exactly why. Today she had resolved to talk to Callan, and... well, she was worried. Worried that Callan would think she was a bad friend because she didn't try talking to her their entire week on the island. Maybe she was more worried that Callan wouldn’t care.
Was that stupid? Probably.
Determination, as she usually did, flanked Emma. ”You know it's not that big of a deal, right?”
What, now the Tulpa was reassuring her? To Determination's credit she was quick to forgive. After the incident on the island she'd expected the cold shoulder for a while, but it didn't seem that Determination was the type for pettiness.
”Right. Sure, you say that now, but you're not much of a people person, are you? People can be... difficult. Cal would be right to be angry; she was going through a lot and I just left her to stew in her room. I really should've... I guess that's not what I'm really concerned about, if I'm being honest.”
No more words came, and the Tulpa responded with a simple ”Hmmmmm.” clearly not understanding what she was talking about.
The rest of the walk to Suite 430 was in silence.
As Emma approached the door she paused for a moment. Determination gave her a quick glance before deciding to knock himself, giving her a quick glance as he did. She was a little surprised – as of late he'd been getting awfully independent. Was that something to be worried about? Not now, at least. She waited half-eagerly half-apprehensively for a response.
...
...
...
Emma looked at Determination. No answer. She gave a slight shrug and almost decided to walk away right there, but Determination once again knocked of his own volition. Emma gave her a glance, but she wasn't quite sure what the glance meant.
"Coming!" a distant voice, froggy and muffled, answered. A few seconds passed before the doorknob jolted-- the result of a failed attempt to grasp it. The door trembled once. Then twice, followed by an irritated groan before the lock on the door clicked off. Callan eased the door open, standing in a pair of striped pale violet shorts and a white tank top-- her pajamas, despite it being the early afternoon. Beyond that, it was clear the arbiter had just been roused from a very deep sleep judging by the state of her hair and the slumped posture. "Emma?" she croaked, "Marcus isn't--" Sleepy eyes took only a moment before noticing the stranger at Emma's side. She... didn't look too happy.
"Something wrong?" she asked, voice still gravely but clearly concerned.
”Callan...” Emma was a little taken back by her appearance, but quickly pushed past it, her surprise quickly turning into a smile. ”Nothing's wrong! And I'm not here to see Marcus... I was just... wondering if you wanted to hang out?” Emma rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. Callan was a total mess, that much was clear. And it was apparently a foregone conclusion that she was here for Marcus. Yeah, total bad-friend status. Or maybe total not-a-friend status.
'Hang out'? She didn't mean to let Emma's question hang there for quite so long, but the combination of drowsiness and the tall blue-haired stranger was enough to make her hesitate. Not to mention this was a huge interruption of the schedule she'd made up for herself. She hadn't thought it possible, but she was sore. Sore and tired. Last night had been her first time training with Misery and her sleep schedule was still a major work in progress.
But it was Emma.
And she wanted to hang out.
"Uh--" with a small shake of her head to try and clear out the fog, Callan opened the door further and stepped back to allow room, "Yeah, we can hang." She flashed an uncertain smile at the new girl before looking back at Emma. She wasn't sure why she wanted to hang out all of a sudden, but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't a little happy. Well... a lot happy. More than she ever thought she'd be considering who Emma was dating.
"Anyone want some instant coffee?" she asked, shuffling into the kitchen while she tried to smooth down the parts of her hair that had gotten particularly frizzy overnight. She stole a small glance at the clock on the microwave, but stopped herself before she could start tallying up how many hours of sleep she'd gotten since that morning.
Emma came through the door with a hint of hesitation. Callan was... well, Callan was not looking too well. Worse than her, something that she didn't think was possible. ”Yeah, sure. I can do coffee.” Emma usually made it a habit to steer clear of instant coffee, but she didn't want to be rude. ”Listen, if I'm bothering you feel free to tell me to buzz off.” she said, taking note of... well, everything. Had she just woken up? Emma shook the thought away.
"No!" Callan exclaimed, pulling three mugs down from the cupboard. "You're not bothering me," she insisted, "Besides-- it's been forever since we got a chance to hang out."
”Yeah. Too long.” Emma readily agreed, a little more encouraged by Callan's enthusiasm. ”Anyways, how are things?” as Emma asked Determination moved inside, looking for the couch.
"Oh, well, y'know. Pretty good all things considered, right? I mean--" I'm not dead. No, she didn't want to strike up another heavy conversation right now if she could avoid it. And it was definitely too soon to make light of it all. "You know," she repeated with a short shrug, "How about you?"
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Emma's still-unintroduced friend finding a place to sit. Instead she looked back to the mugs, filling them with water and sticking the first one into the microwave.
”Well... y'know. Better now that we're back at USARILN, which was something I never thought I'd say,” Emma sighed, ”Better than bouncing around from place to place, at least.”
Emma shook her head, ”But we should probably talk about something other than that, right?”
"Fine with me," Callan smiled somberly, leaning up against the counter while the microwave hummed. "So... who's the uh...?" she whispered, nodding towards girl.
”Oh, shit, I guess you haven't...” Emma rubbed the back of her head. How is she going to explain this? ”Well, she, uh...” Determination turned around, realizing that the conversation was about her. "Oh, uh, I'm one of Emma's Tulpas! I can talk now, too!" she said enthusiasticly.
”Right. That.”
Her jaw dropped in surprise. "Whoa!" Callan leaned foward, bewildered and more than a little impressed. "That's... so cool!" For a moment, she forgot all about the coffee, practically materializing in front of the tulpa. She'd always felt like these things resembled Misery in a strange way. Now, however, it seemed like the differences between the two were growing-- and rapidly at that. Or maybe she could teach Misery to talk one day?
...Or not. Thinking about it again, she was pretty certain that would be one of the worst things that could happen.
Callan leaned sideways, as if trying to get a better view of 'her'. Emma's tulpas seemed far less unpleasant than her Misery, though. So maybe it wasn't so bad in this case. At least they looked human now.
"What's this o--" Callan caught herself. Should she not be asking Emma? It seemed like the thing had piped up on its own volition before. "What's your name again?"
”Name's Determination!” she said, grinning at the girl.
”Or Det.” Emma added.
”Right, or that!” the Tulpa agreed.
”Yeah it happened kind of suddenly... but, uh, now she's walking around with me most of the time. She doesn't like... not being here, y'know?”
'Determination'. Callan did her best to commit the name to memory.
"Not being here...?" Callan repeated the words outloud, though she knew what Emma meant. But as long as she was still drawing connections between Emma's tulpa and her own shadow summon, the implications were plenty concerning. "Why?"
Callan turned the question to Det, "What happens when you're not here?"
”I just... don't exist!,” it was the same answer that Emma had received, but she expected there must've been more to it than that. ”Shit sucks.” apparently she didn't want to elaborate anymore, because he turned away. ”That's not important. I'm here now, and that's juuuust fine!”
Callan blinked. Awfully casual about it, wasn't she? Callan frowned, glancing at Emma before looking back at Det. Her eyes searched the its face. She couldn't imagine she'd enjoy floating in an out of existence. Was that similar to how Misery felt...?
The idea was too scary for her to consider now. The microwave beeped and she took a step back. "You like instant coffee?" Callan asked tentatively, nodding towards the microwave.
”I haven't tried it! Emma thinks it-” Emma quickly put her arms in the air, cutting her off, ”Ah! She'll take a cup, right?” Determination looked down for a moment before deciding, ”Right, I'll take a cup!” Determination said, giving Callan a grin.
"Alright," Callan winked and pointed. On her way back over to the kitchen, she beckoned Emma to walk with her, whispering as she switched mugs out of the microwave and filled a third. "How long has it been able to talk?" Callan frowned. If she seemed overly concerned with Det's well-being, it was because she was. But she was too tired and curious for tact. Maybe after coffee. Besides, Emma wasn't one of the few she was concerned about when it came to discovering her secret ability. Not unless Marcus had mentioned anything about the claw marks in the floor, which she got the distinct feeling he hadn't.
”Shit, since, uh... since we got on the island. After D.C.” Emma whispered back. ”It's been a lot to get used to. She started looking like a person after we got back from the island, which has been... weird.”
"Wow... so... she goes with you everywhere?"
”Not everywhere, but almost. She's... y'know, kinda lost. Needs direction, considering she just suddenly... started existing. Figured she'd follow me around about, find out how things work.” Emma sighed. She'd been sighing a lot lately, she'd realized. She'd practically invented a new language using only frustrated exhalations of air. ”It's... well, it's not so bad, I guess.”
"Hmm," Callan responded, thinking it over as she started stirring in the first packet. It made sense that she'd stick with Emma, though she had to wonder if there wasn't a certain range limit. It'd be pretty devastating to have her tulpas walk out on her forever. "What about the other ones?" she asked, "Don't you have like four more of those things?"
”She's the only one that can talk, and the only one that looks like a person, which is a massive problem in of itself. She's... protective of the others. You remember Lily? We figured out her powers work if we redirect her injuries to the Tulpas, but now that's a no-go, and... it's become difficult to manage when we're fighting.”
"Oh... I see," Callan had to resist the urge to glance back at Determination while Emma explained. Even with the faith she had in the microwave's ability to mask their conversation, however, she was starting to get a little paranoid. So she left it at that. The whole thing seemed rather ominous. Was Emma's tulpa really sentient or was it just an illusion?
"Well," Callan rose her voice back to normal volume, handing Emma her cup, "For what it's worth, I'm here if you need help, okay?"
”Right.” Emma rubbed the back of her head, grinning, ”I'm sure super strength can help me out some day, huh?” Emma also discontinued the whisper, hoping that Determination wouldn't notice – he usually didn't, seeming more than a little oblivious most of the time. ”Friends don't hurt either.”
Callan smiled, although the comment managed to kick up some mixed feelings. Keeping to herself had felt so much easier at her old school. The people she'd met here were different. If she was really being honest with herself, the last few weeks had made her feel excruciatingly lonely. It was selfish of her to think so much about herself for so long-- not bothering to know if anyone else was going through a hard time. More importantly, they seemed to actually want to spend time with her. At least, Emma and Marcus did.
Callan stared into her cup, swirling its contents once. Was fate always this mean?
"No, they sure don't," she chuckled, moving to bring Determination his mug.
Determination grabbed the mug, ”Thanks, Cal!” she said eagerly, staring into the mug for a moment. She took a deep sip, apparently unperturbed by the hotness. She looked at Callan, ”It's...” from behind Emma shot him a glance that could not be mistaken, ”It's good!” she lied, setting the mug on the coffee table. To the Tulpas credit it was a good lie... Riley had always been a good liar, and it looked like that still held true.
Equally unperturbed by the hotness, Callan took a few heavy gulps from her own mug. If Emma or Det didn't like it, she'd be hard pressed to notice-- far more intrigued by the fact that she could drink at all. She couldn't help but fixedly watch her consume the coffee as she took her seat on the couch.
"Hmm," Callan thought out loud, absentmindedly reaching for Determination's arm before suddenly recoiling. "May I?" she asked, looking between both she and Emma, unsure of whose permission she needed.
Emma took a sip of her own drink, turning towards Cal, ”Uhhh...”
She wasn't quite sure how to respond, so it was a good thing that Determination did. ”Yeah, go for it girl!” she decided, not quite sure what Callan was trying to do.
Callan eagerly placed her fingertips on Determination's forearm. Her eyes lit up with surprise. She ran her palm over the top of his arm once, noting how it felt.
"Whoa. Feels just like a real person," she asserted with a nervous chuckle, selfconsciously pulling her hand away. Immediately she realized how insensitive that may have sounded and scrambled to correct herself, "S-sorry! I just meant... er... not that you're not a real person-- I mean--" She looked to Emma for help.
Determination shrugged, "Hey, don't worry about it! It's trippy for me too, being real and all." Meanwhile Emma followed Callan to the couch, taking a seat next to her. She turned towards the girl, ”Hey, so, Cal... be honest with me for a sec. Coffee in the afternoon, tired... did you just wake up?”
"Uh," Callan tore her eyes away from Det, flashing Emma a sheepish smile. "Yeah. I did." There was really no point in hiding it. She was clearly still in her pajamas and her hair was in dire need of a good brushing-- something she might've even have excused herself to go do if she hadn't accidentally snapped her only good brush in half the day before. "I just had a late night is all."
”Right, well... make sure you're taking care of yourself, y'know?” Emma wasn't really one to be talking, but this seemed like a 'do as I say not as I do' situation. ”It's hard here, but... well, we've gotta try to keep ourselves together.”
Callan waved her hand dismissively, "I'm probably the last person you need to worry about, Emma. Trust me." She finished off the last of her coffee with a hearty gulp before setting it on the coffee table. Nestling herself deeper into the couch cushions, she stretched her legs out onto the table and yawned, "I am super sore though. Didn't think that could still happen to me."
”Sore? What, been working hard?”
”'Working'.” Determination said with a wink, a giggle, and a suggestive wag of her eyebrow.
Shit, she wasn't supposed to-- Callan's face became visibly flustered, first by the realization of her slip up and second by Determination's comment. Her mouth got stuck on the first consonant of 'what', flashing Determination a short look of bewilderment. She didn't know what to make of it, coming from a tulpa. Coming from anyone else, she might've managed a nervous laugh, but instead she just tried to ignore it.
"Wh- what do you mean?" she smiled awkwardly, "We were just in a huge fight the other day, remember?"
”Oh... well, fair enough. I just...” Emma laughed, ”Never mind, yeah.” Emma glanced towards the door, ”Hey, since you're done with your coffee wanna go grab a drink? I get the feeling you could use some sunlight, and I might just have a little something stashed away in my dorm.” it was a sincere offer, but there was something else, something more in Emma's voice. Maybe a hint of desperation.
Callan hesitated. If disobeying her sleep schedule was going against her own rules, drinking (especially so early in the afternoon), was definitely a huge 'no no'. Assuming Emma's 'special something' wasn't anything but booze, that is. Even so, she couldn't help but catch the subtle meaning behind the words. And if there was one thing Callan could never no to, it was being needed. "Sure, why not?" she agreed with a shrug and a stretch, stifling one last yawn before standing up. "Just gotta go get some clothes on."
”Yeah. Go for it, I'll hang. Hey, you mind if Determination hangs out here while we're out?” Determination glanced at her, but didn't say anything.
Callan paused again, half-way to her bed still riddled with clothes she'd never sorted. She looked at Emma in surprise. Didn't she just get through explaining that Det was lost without her? She glanced in the tulpa's direction, "Uh, yeah. That should be fine. Fine with me anyway. I don't think Marc or Siena will be home any time soon, so..."
Reaching her bed, Callan began searching through the bedsheets for a pair of pants and a shirt, feeling between her bed and the wall until she finally procured a spacious, dull blue hoodie. "She won't get bored, will she?" Callan asked, swapping her tank top with a long sleeved shirt.
”Just let her watch TV, she'll be fine.” Emma said, receiving a sharp glance from Determination, ”Yeah, yeah, talk about me like I'm not here, sure! I'll be fine, Cal, thanks for asking!”
"Ha!" Callan laughed, surprised to find it was genuine.
"I kinda like this new Determination. She seems fun," she smirked, switching pants next. "I don't suppose you know what you want to watch?" Callan challenged curiously.
”Eh, I'll find something. I like flipping channels. See what...” Determination thought for a moment, trying to find her train of thought. What was she going to say? ”See what's on.” she decided on.
But that wasn't what she intended to say.
”Yeah, fun is a word for it.” Emma said jokingly. At least, it sounded like she was joking.
"Huh, alright," Callan shrugged. She quickly finished getting ready, hastily finger combing her hair into a more presentable mess. She was still clearly exhausted, but left no room for commentary as she made her way to the door. "Oh-- almost forgot," Callan slipped into the kitchen, pulling a brand new remote from a grocery bag that seemed to be brimming with them.
"The last one broke," she explained before handing it over to Det.
”Right. Thanks.” Determination sounded almost bored as she grabbed the remote, flicking the TV on.
”Alright, well, don't make a mess, alright?”
Determination nodded, ”Yeah yeah. Gotchya.”
”Okay then,” Emma said heading for the door, ”Ready to go, Cal?”
"Lead the way," Callan nodded, sparing one last glance at Det.
As they headed out Emma almost seemed a little too eager to shut the door behind them. As soon as Determination was safely out of earshot Emma broke, letting out a, ”Dude, oh my fucking god, I'm freaking out. This whole Determination thing is... way, way, way too much!”
Her eyes widened in surprise. She knew she'd told Emma she would be there if she needed help, but... she hadn't expected to cash in on that so soon. Plus, Emma was basically doing a complete 180. She'd seemed fine just a second ago!
"Whoa, okay, well, uhm," Callan floundered for a response, "First of all, calm down. Yeah, I'll admit it's a little weird to me, too. But don't freak out. I'm sure it'll be fine.... Has she always been so... uh... aware?"
”Dude, you don't, you don't get it...” Emma looked back at the suite, voice turning into a hushed shout, ”That's fucking... that's Riley! My friend, the one I told you about? It looks like her, talks like her, this is so fucking freaky man...”
"Riley?" It took a second to remember. "Wait, THAT'S Riley?" Callan repeated as the pieces finally clicked. "Are you sure you aren't like... subconsciously making Det look like that? Maybe you could make her look like someone else. I-if it's really bothering you, y'know?" Callan knew the moment she said it that it was a poor solution.
Determination wasn't suddenly just walking around like a regular person-- it was impersonating people Emma actually knew. Frankly, it was too creepy for Callan to know what to do with. But for Emma's sake, she'd try.
”Dude, I can't... I dunno. I had one of those dreams, and it just... just happened. I think it's my fault, something I subconsciously wanted, but I don't know how to change it... I listen, you can't even grasp how...” Emma sighed. She could confide in Cal, right? She hesitated for a moment, biting her lip, ”Riley's not just my friend, she's... she's my ex. So this is getting... weird, way too weird.”
Dreams? Callan opened her mouth to say something before Emma continued. She promptly shut her mouth and listened. Caught between two questions, she could only stare at first.
Riley was... what?
"Does Marcus know?" she finally asked. She probably shouldn't be prioritizing that sort of thing, but she could always ask about the dreams later. Plus, this was obviously really important to Emma. As it had every right to be. Meanwhile, Callan really wasn't sure how to sort out the feelings that were cropping up because of this new information. But they weren't exactly great.
”No, Marcus doesn't know. I shouldn't tell him, should I? 'Hey, a perfect clone of my ex and I hang out 24/7, sleep in the same room, and I'm probably the one that made her look like that' doesn't sound very good, does it? Oh god this so shitty man, like... I still...” Emma cut herself off. Not that, ”This is just too weird.”
Callan frowned, crossing her arms uncomfortably, "N-no, I guess that wouldn't be a good idea, huh?"
Emma's unfinished statement lingered in the back of her head. She could easily guess the rest of that one. That ugly green monster that she thought might've been going away was resurfacing with quite a wrath. But she didn't want to see Marcus get hurt over this.
"Well... if you think you might've made her look like that..." Callan thought out loud, "Maybe there's still a chance you can change it. E-eventually... you know? Otherwise..."
Callan hesitated, clearly a little disturbed by her own thinking, "Have you thought about just not summoning her? I know you said she doesn't like it, but...."
”I can't do that, can I...? Like this raises a ton of moral implications! We've discovered like... new life! Is it right for me to just lock it away?” Emma sighed, crossing her arms, ”All this was a whole lot simpler when I could give them commands and they wouldn't say anything.” Emma started remembering the details of the dream, Determination's new powers, ”Shit, it doesn't matter anyways. She's got all kinds of new powers, and one of them is that she can summon herself.”
New life... summoning herself. A cold chill ran up Callan's spine. She thought of Misery. Furious, angry, violent Misery. Clawing itself out of her shadow every chance it got. Slicing through floorboards like butter. Moral implications be damned-- she could never let something like that get away with what Emma's tulpa was doing.
"Sh-she can summon herself?" Callan parroted in surprise, "What else can she do?"
”All kinds of shit now... we can communicate, like, telepathically, she can command my other summons, not to mention she still has fucking super strength.” Emma sighed, ”Man, why'd I have to get such a weird fucking power? Wanna trade, Cal?” she said, forcing a small laugh.
"Haha," Callan forced a short laugh and itched her cheek, way too uncomfortable with how much she suddenly wanted to be honest with Emma. At least she had control. Come to think of it, Emma had a lot of things Callan wish she had. Either way, she'd easily trade the ability to keep Misery locked up if it meant a chill carbon copy of someone she liked. Strange as it might be, at least she wouldn't have to worry about anyone dying.
"Your power's awesome, Em," she reassured, "You'd be really disappointed if we traded places-- trust me on that one."
”Yeah, don't think you can convince me on that. I'll take super strength any day.”
Callan smirked. Still eager for a change of subject, however, she motioned for the elevator, "So where to?"
”Well shit, guess I gotta be honest now, I kinda lied about having something stashed away. I just... wanted to get away from Ri- I mean, Determination... and wake you up a little. But I'm not really sure where to go from here... well, me and Marcus hit up this pretty rad tea place the other day. They had like, cakes and all kinds of shit. Wanna hit that up?”
Callan nodded, feeling a small piece of herself die inside. "Yeah... sounds great," she grinned, doing her best to keep the stark lack of enthusiasm out of her voice. By the time they finally reached the tea place, however, Callan had an even harder time letting go of the idea of Marcus and Emma coming here by themselves. Giggling at a small table over some fruity iced tea while she was probably still thinking about that Riley girl.
Callan grimaced to herself as Emma took the lead. She wasn't in any place to judge. Emma thinking about her ex didn't have to mean anything anyway, did it?
But why wouldn't Determination turn into Marcus? she found herself wondering before finally pushing the thoughts out of her head. It was none of her business. None of her business!
"So what's good here?" Callan asked, skimming the menu above the counter.
”Me an Marcus got milk tea, and we got some cool cakes, but I've only been here once, so beats me.” Emma grabbed Callan, steering her into a seat in the back corner, ”They asked us to sit in the back, on account of... well, y'know. Subnaturals.”
"Well, that's super lame," Callan frowned, allowing herself to be led wherever Emma wanted.
She glanced over her shoulder at the person behind the counter, understanding quite quickly why Emma and Marcus probably decided to comply. Heroes or no, it wasn't worth starting trouble over, though Callan did find it rather disappointing. Even Marcus, who by now was well known for his rescue efforts in D.C. and the moving interview in La Plata, still couldn't land a decent seat at a simple tea place.
"Cake and milk tea sound fine," she shrugged, resigned to her fate. Same table. Same meal. Was there even a word for what she was experiencing right now? Was being a secondhand third wheel a thing?
"Lame, but a lot better than getting kicked out. They were actually pretty nice to us, I mean, I'm sure the incognito seating is better for both us and them." Emma tapped her finger on the table, "I mean, it could be better, but what can ya do?" Emma glanced at the man behind the counter, who walked over with a platter similar to the one that Emma and Marcus had yesterday, a sampler with small pieces of strawberry cream cake, ganache cream, chocolate butter, tiramisu, and green tea chiffon. He also dropped of a pair of menus with a selection of drinks, snacks, and entrees. He walked off after introducing himself, leaving the two alone. "See, look, pretty nice."
"Hmm," Callan couldn't remain very skeptical with a delicious strawberry cream cake in her mouth. "Okay," she said, finally, "I get it."
"I guess it would be kind of annoying if we sat in the front. Helps us avoid all the blatant staring..."
Emma snatched the piece of tiramisu, ”Yeah, exactly. And besides, cake.” she said, shoving the piece in her mouth to punctuate her point. ”Mrm, sro... hrow's... Sriena?” Emma spoke through a full mouth, quickly realizing and gulping down the piece of cake.
”Er, Siena. She was pretty shaken up at Wisford.” Emma wondered if Cal knew about the side effects of Siena's powers. Probably not, at least, it didn't sound like something Siena ran around telling pople. Then again, they were roommates... well, either way it wasn't her place to talk about Siena's secrets.
"Siena?" Callan hadn't been aware that there was anything wrong with her. Not especially wrong, anyway-- considering what everyone had been through the past month. Just another reason to feel guilty for locking herself away. "She's seemed fine to me, but... did something happen to her in Wisford?"
"She was just... freaked out, I guess. If she's normal now that's good, though. Probably just shaken up after fighting other Subs, and... y'know, everything that happened." Emma looked away, "Let's forget about that though. Change the subject?"
"Hm," pulled from her thoughts at the request of a subject change, Callan chose to leave that for another time. "Actually, there was something I wanted to ask you about," she said, "You mentioned something about dreams before... what did you mean by that exactly?"
”Dreams...? Oh, right. You've been having them too, right? Everyone in our class has. You have a weird dream, your power gets upgraded. I'm not sure what exactly it means or where they come from, but... yeah. We're all having them, and I'm assuming you are too.”
Callan was surprised. It was written all over her face. The more Emma explained, the brighter her eyes seemed to light up. "So I was right!" she said finally, slapping one hand down onto the table. "It's-- it's an ocean, isn't it? Who else said they've been having them? I thought it might be just me!"
”Exaaactly. The ocean. Surprised you haven't heard about it, like I said, all of us are getting them. Everyone in our class, and some other people... Clark and Hector, if you've met them, which I hope you haven't. I know they have them but not a whole lot else.”
"Clark and Hector?" Callan repeated, mind still going about how cool it was that they were all having the dreams. Maybe that was why she couldn't remember if she'd heard about them or not.
”Yeah. Clark's a dude with a crocodile mouth for a face and Hector is some psychopath eight year old they've got locked up. Word on the street is he's an Animus, but that's just a rumor. What I do know is that the kid is crazy... but anyways, don't worry about them, the higher ups don't like us messing with them. The lead here is the dream, and the one I had that turned Determination into Riley was crazy. You've felt... in the dreams... there's like, this, presence, right?”
Callan tried to envision the odd pair Emma described, her train of thought again derailed when the aberration began talking about the dreams again.
"Yeah," Callan nodded, "Definitely felt that."
”Yeah, well, I found out what the presence was, and... well it found me.” Emma leaned towards Callan, ”Hey, I'm going to swear you to secrecy on this one, alright?”
Callan's enthusiasm was nigh tangible. She leaned forward across the table just as Emma did. "Okay," she agreed, "I promise."
”Well, shit, here goes. So, after getting back from the island I pretty much went straight to my dorm and crashed. Oh, before I start explaining this, lemme give you some prelude. A couple weeks ago I started taking to another student on DnT. 'Vivaldi'... her power is that she can hop into people's dreams. And, uh, basically I was hoping that there would be some way she could use her powers to get into one of our superpower dreams and find out... I dunno, something we can't. So, I get on campus, I sleep, and I start just having, like, a normal dream. Goes for a bit and then she shows up and we pow-wow for about the dreams. Didn't really learn a lot except for a couple of things:
1. If she tries to view an awakening she gets booted out by some unknown power. The same things happens with our dreams. 2. We're not the only ones having these dreams – here's where I find out about Hector and Clark.”
Emma looked down, thinking for a moment, ”So, we're talking, and suddenly, bam! No more Vivaldi. I'm by myself, and there's like... I can feel all this power. But for once it isn't the presence, it's me. And there's like... this barrier around me. And the ocean is gone, and the storm that I dreamed about is gone, and I realize... the storm was looking for me. And it found me. And suddenly, just like that, there's this huuuuuge pressure bearing down on me. It's that presence, if you couldn't guess. But it couldn't get me because I was... too strong, I guess. That barrier was stopping it. So it gets closer, and closer, and closer, and it comes into view but it's...”
Emma leaned in a little closer, voice lowering, ”It was Riley. The thing was tricking me, asking to be let in, and... I don't know. I felt like saying yes, I wanted to say yes, so I let it in, and... that's where things start to get bad. The fake Riley started yelling at me, getting in my head, saying all this shit, and... it was also eating me, or eating my stigma, I don't know... it was consuming something. And I felt so small, so scared, my stigma started firing off and everything started falling apart. The thing had me, but... Determination was there. I thought I was dying, something was being drained from me, I had no will to fight. But he - still a he at this point, he kept fighting, trying to stop Riley or whatever that thing was. And then he wasn't Determination, he was Riley too. They were fighting while that thing drained me, but... and...”
Emma leaned in, yet again, ”I saw another vision. Like the awakening, kind of. It was... there were Tulpas everywhere, and... I was like... their queen. And they killed Marcus, and... someone else, I can't remember. And that was the reality that... that thing promised. And I didn't want that, so I started fighting. And then... someone else was there. Something else, someone else saved me. Suddenly I was somewhere else and that thing was gone and Determination was too. And that place... I saw Padma, and Sav, and Aaron... and there were others. I remember... a guy I didn't recognize. He told me to leave, and I was gone. And I was back with Riley... or Determination. And she told me I just had to tell her I wanted to wake up, so I did. And... Determination was like she is now.”
Emma sat back, sighing, ”That's exactly what happened, and you're probably the only person I'm not going to lie about this shit to. Like, I just gave up... that's kind of fucking pathetic, isn't it?”
Callan, who had been listening very intently, immediately looked confused by Emma's question. She'd done her best to keep her expression even throughout the description of Emma's dream, struggling only a little when she mentioned Marcus.
"Wow," she breathed, leaning back in her seat a little. She pushed her bangs back against her head, "That sounds... pretty different from the dreams I've had. ... but why do you think you just gave up?" she frowned.
”I...” Unresolved suicidal tendencies? Depression? Being a general piece of shit? That was quite the question Cal. ”Because...” Emma looked down. She could be honest about this for once in her life, couldn't she?
”Sometimes... sometimes, when we're out there fighting, I... I wonder if... I wonder if it would be easier to give up. And usually I push that feeling away, but sometimes it gets the best with me. And I guess with Riley there, and everything going on I just...” Emma's voice cracked. She let out a deep sigh. What was she doing? In her old life she'd always push this shit down, never tell anyone about it, not even Riley. ”Sorry... that's probably... a lot more than you wanted to know.”
Callan shook her head, "It's fine. You don't have to apologize. Just..." She left her sentence hanging there for a moment, giving herself more time to think. She still wasn't sure what Emma meant. "I don't... Sorry, I mean-- I don't think you have to feel bad for feeling that way," Callan smiled reassuringly, "What we've been doing here hasn't been easy, Em. Even I've thought about giving up sometimes, you know?"
”Right...” Emma forced a smile. She didn't think that Callan really got what she was saying, but that was fine. She shouldn't push her shitty feelings onto other people.”If the great Callan Webb is feeling that too, I guess I don't have anything to worry about!” Emma said with a small laugh.
"Heh," Callan smiled sheepishly, color rushing to her cheeks. "Don't give me so much credit. I'm just sayin'... you're not alone, you know?"
"Yeah... I know. I don't think I would've made it out of there if I wasn't thinking about you guys. You, Marcus... my mom and dad, my sister, Riley... but, just, point is... you guys are important to me. Er, you're important to me... Cal. Sorry, is that too much?"
Callan paused, looking slightly baffled for a moment before she reached across the table, squeezing Emma's hand gently. "You know, Emma... I didn't think I was gonna make very many friends out here. Well... any friends," she smiled, briefly averting her eyes, "I wasn't very popular at my old school. I mean-- I was, but I wasn't... if that makes-- Anyway, I'm glad we're hanging out."
Callan laughed nervously, withdrawing her hand and scratching her cheek, "And, uh. As long as we're being honest here... you're important to me, too. Seriously." She rested her cheek in her hand, still laughing, "I think I'd be at least ten times more miserable without you."
Emma smiled. It was probably one of her realest smiles from the whole time she'd been here. ”Me too, Cal. It's... it's nice to have a friend like you around here. And hey, who gives a shit about popularity? 98% of popular people are jackasses, and if those jackasses didn't want to hang out with you that pretty much confirms that they're jackasses, because you're pretty awesome.”]
"Haha," she blushed again and had to look down at the table, finally picking up the menu as an excuses to hide the flattered smile on her face, "Thanks... y-you too. So what's good here?"
”Uhhhhh...” Emma blinked. Déjà vu? ”Heh, Cal, didn't you already ask that? I've been here once, so I'm not super sure. Bubble tea is legit though.”
"Oh yeah," Callan set the menu back on the table, "Sorry-- forgot." She rubbed her forehead. Man, she needed more sleep. And why was she getting so embarrassed all of a sudden? They placed their orders not long after that, idly talking about the different food places around Crimen Culpae. Unsurprisingly, Emma knew a lot more than Callan did, thanks to all her dates out with Marcus. It got her thinking. By the time they got their drinks, Callan finally decided she had to ask.
"So... sorry to bring it up again, but... I wanted to ask you more about Riley," Callan twisted the straw in her drink, trying to keep her tone casual in spite of the request. "How long were you guys together?"
Emma took a sip from her coffee.
”Well...” Emma was a little surprised that Callan had brought it up again, but she didn't see any reason to lie about, ”I'd known her since I was, like... eight. Well, I guess I'd known her since pre-school, but we weren't really friends until eight. I was like... super shy and quiet. No friends and all that shit, until... well, one day she just decided to talk to me and then we were, like, BFFs. We didn't start, like... we weren't together until we were, probably, like... fourteen? So around two years with like a half a year of 'it's complicated'.”
That would mean... Callan tried to do the math, but almost immediately gave up. "So... did you two just separate because of the..." Her eyes flickered to Emma's mark. Oof, she didn't mean for the conversation to get so serious so fast. "Sorry," she grimaced, though she still waited for an answer.
”No, it's fine. Don't worry about it. I moved, and she... well, she did some things. Tried to make me feel bad about my family moving away, and all this shit. It's... well, it's kind of stupid looking back, but it doesn't really matter anymore. Feels like a whole different lifetime now.”
"Oh..." that was something of a relief to hear, though clearly it wasn't true. It did matter because Riley mattered. Why else would Determination take on that form? "That sucks... How long ago was that?"
"We moved, like, probably a little less than a year ago. And then things got weird, and... well, I ended up here."
"Mm, I see," So not that long ago... but enough not to be too concerned, right? "I'm guessing you haven't dated anyone since then...."
"Besides Marcus? No, not really. I mean, nothing really committed, y'know."
"Oh," a sad smile flickered across her face and she took another quick sip of her drink, "Even though it's been a while, I can...er... definitely see where the whole Riley situation would be uncomfortable. Like you said."
"Yeah... yeah, it is uncomfortable. What about you, Cal? You never told me about your love life before... all this."
Callan flinched. "Haha," she chuckled nervously into her cup, "N-nonexistent." She thought about Amy. Just a flicker of a thought. A history doomed to repe-- no, no, no. She'd never admitted it to herself then and she wasn't about to start now. Amy had been her friend-- a friend too good to lose.
"Whaaaat? Y'know that you can totally snag one of the guys around here if you wanted, right? You're cute and fun, and... they'd be lucky if Callan Webb picked them." Emma hesitated for a moment, "Ooor a girl, whatever floats your boat." she said with a wink.
"Eh, that's alright. I've got... plenty of things to keep myself busy," she waved her hand, feigning disinterest. Between training and hanging out with Emma, she was already struggling to find a good balance. Relationships were time consuming. That's what she kept telling herself anyway. "Besides, with my luck, I'd probably end up dating the only person with sketchy hypnopowers on campus."
"Fair enough. If you ever change your mind, though, I'm a hell of a wingwomen." Emma grinned, shooting finger guns at Cal.
"I'm sure you are," she chuckled, taking another drink, "Yeah, I'll let you know if I ever need your services."
"Good. So, does that mean you're gonna give up on your super secret crush, Cal?" Emma said, her grin taking on a hint of mischief. "If you ask me I'd say you should totes go for it, but I'll respect your decisions."
A defeated smile was all she could muster. This topic would never die, would it?
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," she answered flatly.
”Oof. Forget I mentioned it then. My b, friendo. Wanna change of subject?”
After Emma had drained her coffee and Callan finished her tea they stayed, chatting for a bit, not quite ready to head out yet. It was nice, something that reminded Emma of days that seemed long gone by now. Chatting with her BFF about stupid shit, not worrying about going out and dying the next day. It reminded her of hanging with Riley, in a way.
It was a bittersweet feeling, but Emma loved it.
The bus back was quiet. It was late and Callan, despite just waking up, was tired. Emma was worried about her, but... well, if Callan didn't want to tell her anything she wouldn't press. It wasn't like Emma could judge, she hadn't exactly been of sound mind lately.
It didn't take long for Callan to fall asleep. On Emma. Emma, truthfully, kind of liked it. Emma cuddled up against Callan, putting a cautious arm around her. It didn't take long for Emma to fall asleep too. She was pretty tired. Really tired, really.
It was one of the nicer sleeps she'd had in a while.
10/10
Emma arrived at the bus stop clutching a plastic bag, inside which were the remains of her scarf. It was the first gift that Val had ever given her – at least, in the sense that it was purchased with money Val got from her very first real gig, and it wasn't a gift that had been 'from' Val but was really purchased by their mom. Emma had felt a little more than shitty about it's sorry state, but she supposed that she could be forgiven. After all, it'd gone through more than a couple fights with horrendous monsters now.
Even so, Emma wasn't quite ready to let it go to ruin yet. Maybe she was grasping at straws- the garment was tattered and stained with blood, unlikely something she could fix with her remedial at best needle skills, but... well, she wanted to try. A stop at a craft store was in order first, and for that she had to head into Crimen Culpae, and for that she had to wait for a bus. She took a seat at the bench that marked the bus stop, pulling out her phone in hopes of occupying herself.
Ernie appeared not long after, in a coat that was far swishier and far more expensive than his usual fare. The standard concealer covered the mark on his neck, though the grimace that appeared on his face as he saw the girl remained unaffected.
Argh, not again.
How long would it be like this? Every time he saw her, the usual calculations began running in his mind, whether it'd be weird to say hi or weirder to pretend to not notice her. If it was worth hiding around the corner and waiting for the next bus in fifteen minutes and how much trouble it'd be to just get an Uber. Mature stuff, really. So far, the campus had been big enough for him to just take another route or sit on the other side of the building. But now...
The Aberration sighed. Rolled his eyes. It was only a fifteen minute wait. Maybe less. This probably wasn't worth the brainpower. With a misplaced determination in his step, Ernie marched to the bus stop and dropped himself on the far end of the bench.
"Hi," he said, as curtly and politely as he could, before pulling out his own phone. That was good enough, right?
Emma looked up from her phone.
”Oh.”
A beat. What was she doing? She shouldn't be rude, as much as she might've wanted to.
”Hi.”
She looked back down at her phone. ”Uhhh... nice coat.” she forced out.
"Yeah. Went shopping with Siena the other day."
A pause. Usually you're meant to compliment something back. Ernie glanced the girl over, noting the plastic bag but...not much else. He returned his attention to the phone with an absent nod.
”Right.”
God, this was so fucking awkward. She tried, for a moment, to get lost in the world of Pintrest garment repair tutorials, but failed. The situation was so palpably awkward that she couldn't focus, so instead she pretended to look at her phone as her eyes glazed over. Several minutes of that past before she got tired of it and shoved her phone back into her pocket, instead opting to stare aimlessly in every direction that wasn't Ernie's. That was, until finally, she cracked.
”Sooo... uh, big plans today?”
Fuck.
"Been missing stuff since Wisford. Gotta restock in town." Ernie turned the phone facedown to wrench away the urge to check the time. He nodded to the bag. "How about you? Returning something?"
”No, uh...” Emma opened the bag slightly so Ernie could see the contents, a purple scarf that was in tatters and covered in blood stains, ”Was gonna try to stop by a craft store and get some shit to fix this, but, uh... I'm not optimistic.”
Immediately, the sight of blood stains turned Ernie's expression into that of an ugly grimace, one that would have been severe for any other person looking at the bag's contents. She was going to 'fix' that. What?
"That..." Belongs in an incinerator. "...Is that really fixable?"
”Probably not,” Emma answered frankly, ”But, uh, gift from my sister, sentimental value, all that. I feel obligated to try.” Emma shrugged, sighing.
A conversation hook. Thank fucking god.
"Ah, the cool one! How's she been?"
”Uhhhh...” Emma sighed yet again, ”We haven't really talked since I got here. I don't really know what's going on but...” why was it Ernie she was telling this to? At least she was able to keep her composure, ”I haven't been able to get a hold of my family at all.” Emma said, frowning.
Since she got here. Ernie knew that they'd arrived only a few days earlier than him. He'd arrived on the seventh so...
The date on his phone made his eyes widen. Fuck. Had he really been with these guys for more than a month?
"That's a long time," he said quietly.
”Yeah, it is.” Emma agreed. And it really was. She'd been doing a good job of bottling up her feelings so far, so she hadn't really thought about it, but it had been a month and she still wasn't sure what the hell happened the night she was captured.
"Guess helping a Sub escape the law isn't something you get off with just a slap on the wrist. Go figure. I know things with your parents aren't great but have you tried asking them where she's at?"
”Can't get a hold of them either.” Emma shrugged, ”The only person I have been able to contact is an ex – uhhh, ex-friend. And she doesn't really know what's going on with my family.”
"Damn. Your situation reminds me of Cal's," he remarked casually before remembering that wasn't something he should bring up, "Well, I hope you hear something soon. It sucks when you've got no one on your side."
”Yeah.” Emma agreed. It felt weird... she almost believed that Ernie was being completely genuine. She was used to him being an asshole, it didn't feel right that he was being so nice. She was also glad that he didn't latch onto her clumsily stated 'ex-friend', given his comments on Christmas and Sander. ”What can ya do, eh? We're the people that society forgot, or some shit like that.”
" 'Forgot' is an interesting word to use there."
”Probably. Something like 'fucking despise' is more fitting, huh? I mean, they'd rather ignore the fact that we're human too despite all they do to reclassify us.”
Ernie laughed. "Yeah, that's more what I was thinking. They don't even make the effort to understand."
Something bitter twisted his smile.
"That guy Marcus saved you from. I bet he thought he was being a major hero."
”Hm. I dunno.” Emma stated plainly.
"What do you mean?"
”I mean that I dunno. I have no idea what was going through that guy's head when he clocked me. Maybe he thought he was taking down the subnatural menace, maybe he was scared. Maybe he was just an ass.” Emma said, shrugging.
Ernie nodded. "Fair. 's not like we can ask him now."
Emma didn't have anything to say about that, apparently, instead choosing to remain quiet.
He knew it was a bad thing to bring up. He didn't care. But if he was going to avoid more initial awkwardness around Emma than he needed to at least attempt some tact.
"Not the best conversation topic, huh?"
”No, not really.” Emma sighed, ”It's a little dumb, but it's nice to pretend to be a normal high schooler... at least for a bit.”
Another laugh. "I only started high school this year. And it was at West so I don't think 'normal' is a thing I can do well."
”Well...” did she feel bad for Ernie? Feel bad for his fucked-up upbringing? Shit, she really was getting soft. ”We're almost there. Just need more partying and less superpowers, racism, and military conflicts.”
"More partying would be real nice. This place feels like a ghost town sometimes."
A realisation hit him.
"Oh man, Halloween is coming soon! Do you think they'll let us do trick-or-treating here?"
”Knowing that the administration around here is no fun, probably not, but... well, I'm sure they won't have anything against a Unit B Halloween party, eh?”
Knowing how the beach party went? She still wanted to try that? Ernie was skeptical. Even the thought of hanging with the dorm Abes sounded better.
But still, his first Halloween since his capture. Costumes and scary movies and severely spiked punch with skull-shaped ice blocks. He couldn't help but smile.
"Party sounds great. I guess you'll be organising again?"
""Well, I could certainly try. Can't go much worse than the beach party, can it? Besides, Halloween parties are legit, it'd be nice for everyone to have something fun to do."
"For sure. I can't wait."
Ernie glanced around again.
"Determination's not much of a shopper?"
"Weeell, she certainly wanted to come, but... I dunno. I wanted a solo trip today, figured she'd be fine hanging out for a bit."
"Yeah, that's fair," he nodded, gesturing at the concealer on his neck. He thought to what Marcus said, "What's he doing now? Just standing and staring in the corner?"
”Uh... well... she watches TV.” Emma let out a small giggle, ”Like, she watches TV almost all day. Not really how I'd picture a Tulpa spending her time, but that's what she does.”
"Sh--" Ernie squinted in confusion for a second, putting the pieces together. Huh. Well, it wasn't the weirdest thing he'd ever heard. And it's not like the minion ever had a dick to lose in the first place. He could look over it. "You're kidding. What kind of shows does he--she like best, Dr. Phil or cartoons or something other?"
”She just flips channels, settles on something, and watches it. I think she's trying to see as much as possible... figure out how the world works, or something like that.”
That was interesting.
"Wow. She might get smarter than us someday then, if she can watch TV and change gender at will," Ernie was only half joking, "Lead her friends in a Tulpa AI invasion."
”Yeah... you're... closer than you think, man. Weird shit goin' on lately in the Tulpa department, although I think Skynet is still a few years off.”
"Weird shit, huh? Like that, uh, that one Lily used on the island. Did that cause some problems?"
”That... he wasn't happy, but it didn't turn into a problem. It probably will if I do it again, but...” Emma sighed, ”You've had the dreams, right? The ones that make your power stronger? I'm pretty sure all of us are getting them.”
Immediately, Ernie's expression changed. There was something dangerous in his expression.
"Yeah, everyone in the class has been getting them, from what I heard. What about them?"
”Well... I had one but... it's hard to explain. It was weird.” Emma stretched out, looking towards the sky, ”Ever since it happened Determination has been... different. He can command the other Tulpas too, and there's other shit but... well, you'll have to see it to believe it.”
It took Ernie a few seconds to take that in.
"So he--she can override you now? Disobey?"
”I dunno how a conflict in command goes down, but I don't think that's a concern. It's just... like I said, I can't really just explain it. I guess you'll just have to wait and see."
He frowned. "That doesn't sound like it'll end well. I don't want to be fucked in the middle of a fight cos your minion doesn't like its friends getting hurt."
”Well... I dunno man. It's complicated. She's not just a minion anymore, I can't really deny that. Self-awareness, sentience, like... fuck, it'd be a lot easier if they were just minions.”
"Yeah." Damn right, it would. This class was already a giant mess without adding alien personalities to the mix. Ernie sighed. "Do you think you can figure this out before the next mission? Whenever that is."
”I don't know how exactly I can figure 'this' out. Determination is her own person now. The others might be too. That's reality, I guess, not really a way around it. Determination is willing to fight, and she's willing to let the others fight, she just doesn't want them to die needlessly. Can't really say no to her, since she's most of my firepower.”
"The fact that you can't say no is the problem," Ernie retorted.
”Well shit, fuck am I supposed to do? I have to live with her. I'd rather not make this an issue if it doesn't have to be. I'm not just going to kill them, I mean, Determination is as close to a person as anything I've ever seen.”
" 'Close to'-- What does it look like now, exactly?"
”Like a person. I mean, real, full blown person. Fleshy, warm, all that.” Emma decidedly left out its similarity to her ex-girlfriend, ”Like, if you saw her on the street you wouldn't be able to tell. For real.”
"What kind of person?"
”Uh, a girl. Tall. Slim. What exactly do you want to know?”
"I dunno. Does she look like Jennifer Lawrence or some actual person or is it just some random face? Did she come with clothes?"
”Uhhh...” Emma nodded, ”Regular person,” she lied, ”And she came with clothes.”
Dreamcatcher's gifts were strangely convenient sometimes.
"That's good to hear. Would've been a bad time next time you guys were on TV."
”Yeah, sure would have. Can't believe we're on TV now, with codenames and everything. Just like the Precursors. They didn't get you yet, did they?”
Emma let out a slight giggle.
”Well, except that thing with 'Time Scar'.”
"Someone had to take one for the team," Ernie chuckled along, "Yeah, I wonder what they'll call me. 'Cowboy' or 'Hangman' or some shit."
Something about her statement made him feel weird. It reminded him of Rosa's throwaway comment.
"You think we'll be like the Precursors?"
”No.” Emma shook her head, ”We're subnaturals. They'll never give a shit about us, not unless...” Emma shrugged, ”I dunno, I don't think we'll change their mind.”
He nodded. "X-marks too. People won't just ignore what we're capable of."
And maybe, just maybe, he didn't want them to.
"You said the dream changed you before, right? Did it..." his voice lowered, "did it change your Stigma too?"
”I...” she hesitated. How much should she say? ”Y'know what? I guess I should let you know, in case you get the dream too. My stigma is... well, it's still there, but barely. Almost gone. It was like... the normal dream, except something else was there. Some kind of presence. And it... wanted to consume me. Or my stigma. I'm not sure. But... I let it, at first, I gave in, but then I decided to fight back and... yeah, that's the cliffsnotes for it. I'm not sure what caused it to get better... if it was eating or it, or if fighting it off was good... I dunno.”
Emma's eyes widened, the details of the dream fluttering back. ”There were others there too. After I fought against it I went somewhere else, and... Savannah, Padma, Aaron, they were all there, and... someone else. Fuck, it was all so confusing. Just, if you have the dream... I think you've gotta fight it. There was someone else there, protecting me from it, and they seemed... I dunno, right.” Emma sighed, ”Sorry, that's a lot of info that doesn't really make sense, but... it really didn't make much sense.”
That didn't sound good. Ernie sat up straight, clearly alarmed by this information.
"On the island, my Stigma...I can barely feel it now. It's like I can breathe properly. But..."
What the hell was this?
"The dreams. I thought they were just supposed to be the ocean and the--that thing."
Wrong. Ernie breathed.
"Two things. Something that saves and...something that watches."
”I dunno. Just... if that thing finds you, don't let it get you. I was... able to fight it off at first, but... just be wary in those dreams. I don't know what would have happened if it finished doing whatever it was doing to me.” Emma frowned, ”The whole thing is freaky. How can something affect you like that in your dream? Like, it definitely did something, but... I dunno. The world's gotten really weird in the past month, and I don't like it.”
"Crazy weird," the boy nodded in agreement.
To think that it had been a whole month. Only a month. It was surreal for sure, this position they were suddenly in. Like they were meant for something. This month had only been the beginning, though whether it was something good or bad was something Ernie was unable to discern. With a shrug, he checked his phone again. Eyebrows were raised at what he saw.
"You know what else is weird?" He turned the home screen display towards her, time clearly showing. His surprise seemed genuine, "We just talked for like twenty minutes without threatening each other once."
As if on cue, the bus turned the corner.
”Hey, I guess we can call that a record.” Emma said, smiling, with a genuine tinge of... something in her voice. Something positive, ”Hey, we're not so bad when we're not going crazy, huh?” Emma said, standing up for the bus.
"Yeah, the crazy is definitely something we cut back on this time," Ernie stood, "Guess terribad, mind-changing nightmares have their pros after all."
”Yeah, I guess so.” Emma agreed, a hint of reluctance in her voice.
I decided to get a journal. Something to... put what I feel into. So, here's what I feel.
Live.
Die.
And then it starts all over again.
It happens the same way every time. No matter how many times I never get used to it – dying hurts like hell, to be completely honest. The realization that the world is bleeding out all around you, the pain, the struggle, and then it happens. You're dead. I always go to the same place. I get there and it feels like I'm drowning. I guess there's no Heaven or Hell for imaginary creatures. I'm sinking into a vast ocean. I can feel that presence all around me. Vast, choking, pressing us into ourselves. A pressure and a force of will. I can see the others, but they don't struggle like I do. Is it because they lack my awareness? Is it because they lack the faculties to convey their pain? I don't know, but I try not to think about it.
I am a reflection of the feelings of my creator. I wonder if this world is too?
I haven't told her. I don't know why. Maybe I'm worried about hurting her. I know... I know that she's doing the best she can. I can feel her, feel what she feels, and... it makes me so sad. I would do anything to protect her. Do anything to spare her feelings. What she feels terrifies me. I'm scared of what she might do, scared of all the pressure she feels. She's drowning too, but she doesn't want other people to know, or maybe she does but the words never come out right. She would rather they were happy and she wasn't, and... more than anything I wish she wasn't this way. I want her to be happy, more than anything.
Is that what people call love? I don't know if I have the ability to really feel such an emotion.
Maybe I only feel this way because she wants me to. After all, I'm a reflection of her desires. She made me into what I am, and when I realize that something twists inside me. Do I hate her for it? No, I can't. I can only see her as she wants to be seen... she's so perfect. Perfect in her imperfection. I've contemplated on this and decided that it's people like her that are the most beautiful. Have you ever heard of the Japanese art of Kintsugi? It's something I read about while trying to put what I feel into words. They repair broken pieces of pottery with a lacquer made from gold – in effect highlighting the breakage while repairing it. It's not just a way of repairing pottery, it's also a philosophy. The belief is that by calling attention to the imperfections it makes the object all the more beautiful.
I'm saying this because I think that's the reason I care for her so much.
There's something else that I've been thinking about a lot: Am I her Determination, or am I Riley? I feel like Riley. I want to call myself Riley, but I know Emma wouldn't like that. I'm a reminder of someone that she'd rather forget, but can't. Maybe I'm someone else entirely? I don't know. Sometimes I think about meeting her – the real Riley. Of course, I know that's impossible, but... I don't know. She made me this way, not intentionally, but deep down I am who she wanted most in this world. A thoughtform of someone important to her. Does it make me happy or sad that I'm made in the image of someone else? I do not know, all I know is that it make me Riley, and it also doesn't make me Riley.
Well, I guess that's the main thing that was on my mind. Maybe I'll try to work up the courage to talk to her about. Maybe not.
P.S. By the way, I've been wondering what people think: Can Tulpas have feelings, or are they made up? I guess, in a way, human feelings are made up too - chemical synapses firing off in their brain that they have no control over or comprehension of.
Does that make them any less important?
I sleep over the covers She sleeps under I don't get cold so it's not a big deal But I still don't like it Sometimes we stay up and talk I know she wishes that I was the person I look like Sometimes we're so close and I pretend that I am that person And I like it because there's a kind of calm in that Sometimes I wake up and she's staring at me Sometimes she wakes up and I'm staring at her One night I worked up the courage to scoot a little closer Our faces were almost touching Her breath was so warm And she didn't say anything It's too bad There are other people that she loves And close isn't close enough
"So, like, what was the point of the whole monologue? Roy could've just killed him, right? Like, dude was dead to rights."
"Well... my take is that Roy was already going to die. His friends were dead. He didn't have a reason to kill Deckard anymore - he was about to shut down. Instead of using his last act to kill Deckard he used his last moments to fuck with his whole reality."
"Wait, what? How?"
"Roy's monologue isn't something Deckard is going to forget. He was so... like, he was so human that Deckard's now gotta wonder what exactly makes the replicants any different from him. Roy also spared him, so like... that fucks with a guy. He was the good guy at the end and Deckard was the bad guy."
"Oh, so like... Roy didn't kill Deckard because it was like... his last chance to make someone believe that he was human?"
"Yeah, more or less."
"Huh, that's... kinda badass. Respect on Roy."
"Hell yeah. That monologue is also a huge tearjerker, right?"
"Pffft. No way, man, I don't cry."
"Bullshit! I totally saw a tear on your face."
"What? I don't even think that I can cry."
"Yeah, right... whatever. We'll watch Bambi next and find out."
"Hey, Emmma, I was just thinking about something..." Determination was flicking through a magazine, but looked up towards Emma.
"Oh yeah? What up?" Emma flicked the volume of the TV down.
"I, uh... I was wondering if we could go clothes shopping."
"Huh? Clothes shopping? Do you, uh... do you want more clothes?"
Determination... blushed? "Yeah, well, I just like..." she rubbed the back of her head, "It's not weird, is it? I just wanted to look good and all that shit." she flashed a weak grin.
"Well, if you want to, sure. We can go into town and hit up some stores."
"Ooooo, can we go to a restaurant too? I'm getting tired of all this ramen. I was reading about, uh..." Determination glanced back at the magazine, "Sushi. Raw fish, right? Sounds kind of gross, but people have to eat it for a reason, yeah?"
"You don't have to eat."
"Yeah, man, but I like to!"
"Y'know you can do this stuff on your own, right?"
"Yeah, but hanging out with you is way more fun. C'mon Em!"
"Magic, bonds, destiny? Don't really care for it, if I'm being entirely honest! I'm just here for m'lady."
Full Name: Régis Proulx
Gender: Male
Age: 19
Height: 5'7"
Weight: 140 lbs
History: From his very earliest memory, Régis Proulx has had expectation set on him. There are many children that experience expectation. To become nobility, to become a scholar, or a healer, to carry on a legacy that has spanned thousands of years. Régis has always found seen that as a very noble thing. But as for his own legacy… he couldn't care less about it, for his family was bound in servitude. The ancient seat of the Proulx family is in service to the Agneaux fanily, for as far back as any could remember. To serve as their butlers and maids, and, more often than not, trusted friends. The two families have ancient ties, as much advisors as servants, but Régis saw no glamour in this task.
‘Where the Agneaux family goes, we follow.’ It was something his father told him many years ago, trying to instill upon him the importance of their family’s station. They weren’t mere servants, per se. Historically the Proulx’s have taken great pride in their service. They grew alongside the Agneaux family, have been seated as close to nobility as a peasant family could aspire to, and been treated better than mere servants could hope to be.
So why did Régis despise this fate? He has always felt some vague dissatisfaction with his lot in life. His childhood was spent in the servant’s quarters. It was a nice place, nicer than any servant’s quarters had a right to be, and he had the ‘privilege’, as his father called it, of growing up alongside Rose-Marie Bachelot de la Agneaux. The girl was his lord’s eldest daughter. Some would frown upon the budding friendship between a servant’s child and the young lady of a noble house, but not the Agneaux’s. No such animosity existed between their families, as they had always been close. Throughout his childhood Régis grew fond of Rose-Marie in spite of his dislike towards his reality. Slowly yet surely, they became close friends
As Régis turned from child to adult his urge to strike out on his own grew. Caught somewhere between his duty and desire, he was fully expected to take up the mantle of his father. But privately… he hoped to leave, leave and go somewhere else, anywhere else. He saw no honor in becoming a servant, instead taken with the tales of knights and mages. He knew he was nowhere near becoming a hero, but he yearned to, and began making plans to leave. But plans rarely work out, do they? Whatever it was that he hoped to do, those plans were quickly torn apart by the death of his lord, the death of Rose-Marie’s father. By his passing his title went to her, and the reality of his position came crashing down on him. He couldn’t leave, he was to be her servant, her partner moreover.
He… he had to stay, didn’t he? For the sake of his friend.
His resolve became even surer as he watched how readily Rose-Marie took to her duties. No longer was she the girl he once knew, but a true lord. He knew it wasn’t easy for her, and seeing how much she fought to become like her father... it felt impossible for him to leave. To Régis's despair wasn’t long after the death of his lord that his own died as well. It was illness, they said, incurable and fast-moving. He was gone within a fortnight, seemingly healthy one day and dead the next. Régis found little time for grief, for it wasn't long after that he was asked to take up his father's mantle. He already knew what he wanted- no, didn't want, but had to do. He became the one thing he told himself he wouldn’t be… a servant.
Brief Personality: Loyal, steadfast, and wholly too childish. Régis fancies himself a hero, but has little of the mettle required for the job. In truth he's far too scared of combat to become the knight he dreams of, a fact he himself is well aware of. He's an idealist who believes in the basic good of Humans, even when the world tries to prove him wrong. Among his friends he has a reputation of a bit of a joker, rarely working up the nerve to act serious, seeing himself as the natural foil to the all-to-serious Rose-Marie. Even though he won't admit it the only reason he's gone along with the Empire's plans is because of her, because, as much as he hates the idea, he'd follow her anywhere.
Emotional Bond: Rose-Marie's a childhood friend and his mistress. But for Régis the 'friend' is what counts.
Partner: Marquis d'Agneaux, Rose-Marie Bachelot de la Agneaux
Fighting Style: Make no mistake, Régis may have lofty ambitions, but he has little to no knowledge of how to hold a sword.
Equipment: Régis doesn't have many possessions to speak of, with the notable exception of a lute- a hand-me-down from his father. Other than that, he has little with him besides his clothes and basic provisions. For their journey Rose-Marie was kind enough to grant him a sword, something he never imagined he'd have to use, alongside a horse. He feels he is woefully unprepared for whatever the Empire has planned for them, but... well... he doesn't have much choice, does he?
Weaknesses: No combat experience and questionable nerve.
Focus concept: Régis and Rose-Marie form a powerful duet. They use the power of song to weave their voices into energy, his magic providing her with various boons.
Spells
Name: Deadly Tempo Function: Régis' voice begins to pick up speed, building up a powerful rapport with Rose-Marie's lance. Her attacks begin to pick up an unnatural speed, although he can't keep this up for longer than fifteen seconds, and the use of this power leaves him winded for fifteen seconds as well.
Name: Soothing Aria Function: Régis belts out a beautiful solo- it's an extended piece that when finished rejuvenates Rose-Marie's wounds. This does not extend as far as life-threatening injuries, but will heal cuts and bruises and leaves his mistress feeling much more refreshed.
Name: Adagio Bulwark Function: Régis begins a slow and dignified melody, resembling a war chant. While he sings Rose-Marie becomes able to take much more punishment, protected by sonal energy.
Likes: Music, tales of heroes, cities, sunny weather, Rose-Marie Dislikes: Servitude, formality, quiet Hobbies: Playing music, dancing, singing, reading Character Theme: Just another day in the life...
Felsi awoke to a dreary morning. It wasn't unexpected, considering the local climate, but a little depressing all the same. She wasn't sure if it was the weather or her inability to read Lorrimor's positively fascinating books, but she had felt a little down on awakening. After a short breakfast she decided to set out towards Lake Lias. The town, by all accounts, had quite the fishing community. Felsi wasn't interested in fishing, but surely the lake would be a little less dreary than the town.
The path from Ravengro to Lake Lias was fairly well worn. Those in village who fished as a living had to travel it every day when they went out, so many obstacles or other impairments tended to be taken care of fairly quickly. The trees had started to shed their leaves already, providing Felsi with a light crunch to every step as she walked along. Because the canopy was sparse, the woodland paths were actually fairly well lit today. Still, it was a decently long trip to the lake; 5 miles seemed fairly short when you had a horse-drawn wagon to bring home the daily catch. But, the scenery was nice, and there was something the Slyph could enjoy about the path.
Felsi rolled a 15 on Perception
As Felsi walked down the path, she noticed a few odd shapes that seemed different than the usual silhouettes of birds. Nearly the size of baseballs; two buzzing creatures bobbing through the sparse canopy, opposite the direction she was going. Whatever they were, they either didn't notice her or didn't care, as they did not stop.
Felsi rolled a 10 on Knowledge (Nature)
Felsi hadn't ever seen any notes or knew of anything that matched what she had seen. Whatever they were, they at least appeared to be somewhat insectoid in nature.
Felsi was previously lost in thought, but now upon seeing the unfamiliar creature her curiosity was suddenly piqued. The promise of a new discovery, at the very least new to here, pushed her back down the path towards town after the two creatures.
Felsi rolled a 6 on Perception
Unfortunately, the creatures had the advantage of soaring above the treetops, while Felsi had to attempt to navigate the forest while also trying not to lose track of the mysterious bug-like things. A task that proved harder than anticipated, as Felsi nearly wandered into a thorn bush, and immediately lost sight as she made her way around it. With no vision on them, she wouldn't be able to tell where they went specifically, even if she walked back to town.
Fortunately for her, it wouldn't be too hard to follow her own footprints back to the path.
”Oh, crumbs.” Felsi muttered, realizing there was no hope of catching the creatures. With a sigh she turned back, retracing her steps back to continue her way towards the lake.
For a moment, as Felsi wandered back to the trail, the wind rustled through the trees. A few leaves fluttered down, the crisp air nipped at her, and for a brief moment the sound of wind rushing past her ears sounded almost musical. Like a soft song, played for less than a second before it vanished. As she walked back she felt a faint unease and wasn't quite sure why. Lake Lias was relatively calm at this time; the breeze gained some more chill as it passed over the rapidly cooling surface of the water. A few wooden docks traced their ways out to the water, seeming to barely grasp at the edges of the lake. Out in the distance, the odd fishing boat trawled along slowly, nets accumulating their aquatic cargo as they went. The forest seemed to surround the lake completely, giving it the illusion of being a hidden spot in the woods; were it not for the obvious signs of other people around, that is.
The serene tranquility of the lake was only broken up by the soft breeze that sent ripples over the water. As Felsi watched, one boat quietly drifted into the docks, squirming payload bound tightly in a net on the deck. One of the crew jumped from the ship to the boardwalk, grabbing one of the trailing ropes and securing it tightly as the boat drifted to a complete stop. Out in the distance, more boats gently glided back and forth, nets searching for a similar bounty.
History: Where the Agneaux family goes, there is sure to be a Proulx not far behind. As far back as any could claim to remember members of the Proulx family has been granted the honor of serving as the head servant to the Marquis of House Agneaux. Some might see it as undignified for their family's profession to be in servitude to another, but the Proulx's do not. In fact, they take great pride in serving the Agneaux family, the stalwart protectors of Roche, and see themselves in many ways less as servants and more as partners. They do not merely bring their lord's drinks and food, but are more often than not turned to as trusted advisers, and, to the surprise of some, friends.
Régis Proulx, however, always thought he was destined for a different fate. As many have he felt some vague dissatisfaction towards his lot in life. His childhood was spent in the servant's quarters of the Agneaux estate, where he grew up alongside one Rose-Marie Bachelot de la Agneaux, his lord's eldest daughter. Some would frown upon a friendship between a servant's child and the young lady of a noble house, but such animosity did not exist between the two families. Their houses had always been close, and the two ended up becoming close friends and mutual confidants.
As Régis turned from child to adult the urge to strike out on his own grew. He was caught between duty and desire, fully expected to take up the mantle of his father when he died, but privately hoping he could leave and do... something. Something other than being a servant. He saw no honor in it, instead taken by tales of knights and mages. At least, that's what he thought before Rose-Marie's father died. Feeling some sense of obligation towards the girl he decided stay close to the place he knew as home. He swore an oath to serve his childhood friend as best he could, as he was expected to do.
Brief Personality: Loyal, steadfast, and wholly too childish. Régis fancies himself a hero, but has little of the mettle required for the job. In truth he's far too scared of combat to become the knight he dreams of, a fact he himself is well aware of. He's an idealist who believes in the basic good of Humans, even when the world tries to prove him wrong. Among his friends he has a reputation of a bit of a joker, and rarely works up the nerve to act serious, seeing himself as the natural foil to the all-to-serious Rose-Marie. Even though he won't admit it the only reason he's gone along with the Empire's plans is because of her, because, as much as he hates the idea, he'd follow her anywhere.
Emotional Bond: Rose-Marie's a childhood friend and his mistress. But for Régis the 'friend' is what counts.
Partner: Marquis d'Agneaux, Rose-Marie Bachelot de la Agneaux
Combat Information
Fighting Style: Make no mistake, Régis may have lofty ambitions, but he has little to no knowledge of how to hold a sword.
Equipment: Régis brought with him, under the urging of his friends, a knife, although he didn't think he'd have to use it. Rose-Marie was also kind enough to grant him a sword, which he really didn't think he'd have to use, along with a horse. He doesn't have many possessions to speak of, with the notable exception of a lute- a hand-me-down from his father. Other than that, he has little besides his clothes and basic provisions.
Weaknesses: No combat experience and questionable nerve.
Celestial Potential Information
Focus concept: Régis and Rose-Marie form a powerful duet. They use the power of song to weave their voices into energy, his magic providing her with various boons.
Spells
Name: Deadly Tempo Function: Régis' voice begins to pick up speed, building up a powerful rapport with Rose-Marie's lance. Her attacks begin to pick up an unnatural speed, although he can't keep this up for longer than fifteen seconds, and the use of this power leaves him winded for fifteen seconds as well.
Name: Soothing Aria Function: Régis belts out a beautiful solo- it's an extended piece that when finished rejuvenates Rose-Marie's wounds. This does not extend as far as life-threatening injuries, but will heal cuts and bruises and leaves his mistress feeling much more refreshed.
Name: Adagio Bulwark Function: Régis begins a slow and dignified melody, resembling a war chant. While he sings Rose-Marie becomes able to take much more punishment, protected by sonal energy.
Miscellaneous Information
Likes: Music, tales of heroes, cities, sunny weather, Rose-Marie Dislikes: Servitude, formality, quiet Hobbies: Playing music, dancing, singing, reading Character Theme: Just another day in the life...
History: Where the Agneaux family goes, there is sure to be a Proulx not far behind. As far back as any could claim to remember members of the Proulx family has been granted the honor of serving as the head servant to the Marquis of House Agneaux. Some might see it as undignified for their family's profession to be in servitude to another, but the Proulx's do not. In fact, they take great pride in serving the Agneaux family, the stalwart protectors of Roche, and see themselves in many ways less as servants and more as partners. They do not merely bring their lord's drinks and food, but are more often than not turned to as trusted advisers, and, to the surprise of some, friends.
Régis Proulx, however, always thought he was destined for a different fate. As many have he felt some vague dissatisfaction towards his lot in life. His childhood was spent in the servant's quarters of the Agneaux estate, where he grew up alongside one Rose-Marie Bachelot de la Agneaux, his lord's eldest daughter. Some would frown upon a friendship between a servant's child and the young lady of a noble house, but such animosity did not exist between the two families. Their houses had always been close, and the two ended up becoming close friends and mutual confidants.
As Régis turned from child to adult the urge to strike out on his own grew. He was caught between duty and desire, fully expected to take up the mantle of his father when he died, but privately hoping he could leave and do... something. Something other than being a servant. He saw no honor in it, instead taken by tales of knights and mages. At least, that's what he thought before Rose-Marie's father died. Feeling some sense of obligation towards the girl he decided stay close to the place he knew as home. He swore an oath to serve his childhood friend as best he could, as he was expected to do.
Brief Personality: Loyal, steadfast, and wholly too childish. Régis fancies himself a hero, but has little of the mettle required for the job. In truth he's far too scared of combat to become the knight he dreams of, a fact he himself is well aware of. He's an idealist who believes in the basic good of Humans, even when the world tries to prove him wrong. Among his friends he has a reputation of a bit of a joker, and rarely works up the nerve to act serious, seeing himself as the natural foil to the all-to-serious Rose-Marie. Even though he won't admit it the only reason he's gone along with the Empire's plans is because of her, because, as much as he hates the idea, he'd follow her anywhere.
Emotional Bond: Rose-Marie's a childhood friend and his mistress. But for Régis the 'friend' is what counts.
Partner: Marquis d'Agneaux, Rose-Marie Bachelot de la Agneaux
Combat Information
Fighting Style: Make no mistake, Régis may have lofty ambitions, but he has little to no knowledge of how to hold a sword.
Equipment: Régis brought with him, under the urging of his friends, a knife, although he didn't think he'd have to use it. Rose-Marie was also kind enough to grant him a sword, which he really didn't think he'd have to use, along with a horse. He doesn't have many possessions to speak of, with the notable exception of a lute- a hand-me-down from his father. Other than that, he has little besides his clothes and basic provisions.
Weaknesses: No combat experience and questionable nerve.
Celestial Potential Information
Focus concept: Régis and Rose-Marie form a powerful duet. They use the power of song to weave their voices into energy, his magic providing her with various boons.
Spells
Name: Deadly Tempo Function: Régis' voice begins to pick up speed, building up a powerful rapport with Rose-Marie's lance. Her attacks begin to pick up an unnatural speed, although he can't keep this up for longer than fifteen seconds, and the use of this power leaves him winded for fifteen seconds as well.
Name: Soothing Aria Function: Régis belts out a beautiful solo- it's an extended piece that when finished rejuvenates Rose-Marie's wounds. This does not extend as far as life-threatening injuries, but will heal cuts and bruises and leaves his mistress feeling much more refreshed.
Name: Adagio Bulwark Function: Régis begins a slow and dignified melody, resembling a war chant. While he sings Rose-Marie becomes able to take much more punishment, protected by sonal energy.
Miscellaneous Information
Likes: Music, tales of heroes, cities, sunny weather, Rose-Marie Dislikes: Servitude, formality, quiet Hobbies: Playing music, dancing, singing, reading Character Theme: Just another day in the life...
Cold ground. Sea soaked, the bitter tinge of salt water on her tongue and filling her nostrils. It had come and went so quickly, but Emma hadn’t quite found the will to pick herself up of the ground yet. For a moment she just let herself lay there, well aware of Determination crouched over her. He was never far from her side as he had been since he had ‘awoke’. The swell of water had knocked her off her feet, for a moment she had panicked, thinking more would come, but it receded as quickly as it had come. She realized that for a moment she was afraid of dying- afraid of drowning, cold and alone, in the middle of fucking nowhere.
Maybe she wasn’t ready for it.
Another long moment. ”Transmit. I’m fine.” she finally hissed, working up the will a while after the others.
She felt the familiar the smooth cold touch at her back – Determination’s shadowy hand. ”You’re okay.” it was more of a statement than a question.
”Yeah.” she confirmed, slowly picking herself up, pushing herself off the ground. ”Alive, at least.”
”More than could be said for some.” the implication of the statement hung in the air for a moment, a hint of bitterness in Determination’s voice coloring the statement with intent. It didn’t take long for Emma to connect the dots.
”Sorry. I…” a statement that she couldn’t finish. She found her back against the walls of the lighthouse, finally sitting up now. Determination, for a moment, said nothing.
”You can’t keep killing us.”
”I know… I just…”
”Get the white-haired girl next time.” he interrupted.
Emma sighed. ”Right. Yeah. You’re right.” the matter of Lily’s healing, it seemed, would be getting more complicated. She could worry about it later. The Amigos still might be a threat. She had lost track of what was happening while she was on the floor. She finally fully rose, walking towards the ruins of the lighthouse’s window. It looked like it was over, at least for the moment. The battle had come and passed and Emma hadn’t really done much of anything, now instead viewing the wreckage of the fight that she might’ve changed. There was no Angel, but plenty of injured. Was that her fault? Maybe. Probably.
Her that her continued uselessness was par for the course.
As Emma turned away from the window she finally caught sight of a shock of purple on the ground. Her scarf. She had lost it in the flood, she realized. She bent over, picking it up from the ground, squeezing the water from it. A gift in tatters, soaked with salt water and stained with blood.
Sorry, Val.
She’d have to find the time to mend it. Maybe their next stop in their hellish, seemingly unending, journey would give her enough respite to do just that. She decided to stuff the tatters of the scarf in her pocket, seeing as it wasn’t in much of a state to be worn.
She was looking around aimlessly as Ernie came in, giving her much needed direction. "Right..." she muttered, still in thought.
Felsi It had been 3 months since Felsi left Lepidstadt. The place she had called home for as long as she had remembered. She wasn't exactly sure what brought the desire to leave- maybe it was academic curiosity, the desire to see with her own eyes what she had read for so long. Or perhaps it was just wanderlust. And maybe, partially, a desire for wealth and fame.
Probably not the last one. Maybe.
All the same the news of Professor Lorrimor's death was quite the surprise. Maybe not the death itself, but certainly the fact that she'd been named as a beneficiary in his will. She'd known the man fairly well- he was an old colleague of her father's, a learned man that had assisted in both his study of the Astral Planes and in the particularities of her own origin. To this end she'd talked extensively with the man, although she could hardly see why she'd be included in his will. They were friends, she supposed, to an extent at least...
She did, however, intend to attend the funeral. Lorrimor was a scholar much like herself, and there was little doubt that there could be much to learn at his estate. Doubtlessly the man had an extensive library, and perhaps he'd taken some small step in cracking the mystery that her father dedicated himself towards. More likely he had his own work to attend to, an exciting enough prospect in itself.
She let out a long sigh. That meant another journey. Yet another exciting prospect, but a scary one all the same. She'd almost been happy enough staying locked in an inn studying. Almost. And so she set about collecting her things and then taking the shortest road to Ravengro.
Full Name: Régis Proulx
Fighting Style: Make no mistake, Régis may have lofty ambitions, but he has little to no knowledge of how to hold a sword.
Focus concept: Régis and Rose-Marie form a powerful duet. They use the power of song to weave their voices into energy, his magic providing her with various boons.
