Member
Chrys
BurningCold
ScreenAcne
Sky Blue
Kronshi
mattmanganon
AlteredTundra
Dyelli BeybiWaverley & Casper
Mutant Underground Hideout: September 12th, 2020
A few days had passed since the Underground's visit from Professor Xavier. In that time, Waverley went about her new life in her normal anxious manner, struggling to adjust to the impoverished lifestyle of the Underground. But, amid the numerous panic attacks and her search to find her place in all the chaos, she watched one individual: the scraggly young man she'd come to learn was named Casper. She was no spy, but throughout her days, she eyed him as inconspicuously as she could, watching his movements, learning which room was his. She couldn't help feeling a little guilty for keeping the boy under such close surveillance, but if what the others had said was true, if he really could speak to the dead, it'd be worth it.
So Waverley watched, and waited, waited for the boy to be alone in his room, without his brother, without anyone to interrupt. Once it seemed like that was the case, she slunk up the stairs with her head down, and then through the hallway. She stopped at room five, taking a deep breath, before gently knocking on the door.
Casper was facedown on his pillow, wearing only a skirt and nothing else. He enjoyed the breeze that it gave him when he walked. His brother was off doing something for one of his clients as a private investigator and Ben was... what was Ben up to? Casper had meant to leave a movie or something for him playing, but there wasn't anything in there to allow them to do that. And unfortunately books were only helpful to Ben if Casper was turning the pages for him. "Hey, there's someone at the door," Ben said, perched on Jack's bed. He looked bored out of his mind, but wouldn't you be, if your only company in the afterlife was Casper?
"Is it Black Tom Cassidy?" Casper muttered into the pillow.
"Do you really want me to check?" Ben asked, getting off of Jack's bed with a sigh. "Why would Black Tom be here anyways? I thought he was based in the UK. Or New York in the off season."
"Why would my father get his withered old ass down to D.C.? It's a weird time to be alive, Ben. Tales of suspense - wait, no, tales to astonish are unfolding!" Casper protested. He still hadn't moved from his position on the bed, unable to see Ben walk through the door and return a moment later.
"It's Feedback."
"...Shit. Tell her I'm not home."
Ben rolled his eyes. "He's not home!" Ben shouted. Of course, no one but Casper was able to hear him. All he could do was watch Casper waste his life, taking for granted everything that Ben sorely missed.
Waverley furrowed her eyebrows as she heard a soft muffled mumbling coming through the door. She couldn't make out what he was saying, but it didn't sound like there was anyone in there responding to his words, and if there was, she couldn't hear them.
"Um, sorry, I didn't quite catch that," Waverley said, her face close to the door. She hesitated for a moment, before continuing. "Was it something along the lines of 'come in'?" she asked, her fingertips on the doorknob. Part of her wanted to just go in, but she knew barging in wasn't going to win her any points. And she needed all the points she could get for the favor she was planning on asking.
Casper groaned, rolling over and then half-crawling, half-collapsing out of his bed. He really didn't want to deal with Waverley today - but then again, he never wanted to deal with this. He knew that she was probably here to get answers about the one she had lost. He banged his head up against the door for a moment, practicing a wide grin, before he pulled it open. Aside from his skirt, he was entirely nude, allowing Waverley to see all of his tattoos and imperfections. "If you're here to borrow a cup of sugar, I gave it all to the wolf."
Waverley, who'd been leaning in close to the door, jumped a little when the door suddenly popped open, revealing the lanky man who she'd been looking for, in all his skirt-clad glory. For a moment, she looked at him with confusion in her eyes, unsure what he meant, before the confusion drained and she nodded. He was quipping. Under normal circumstances, she'd have quipped back, but she didn't. Her arms hung stiff in front of her, her hands nervously squeezing one another. "Ah, uh, no, actually," she began, before letting out a sigh. "I...was wondering if you could help me with something..."
"Are you ready for this?" Ben asked Casper.
"Hell no," he told his best friend, shaking his head at him. He then turned his attention back to Waverley and stepped aside, motioning for her to come in. Maybe he'd luck out and she just wanted makeup tips from him - he was really good at telling people different things to try. It brought him a lot of joy. "Is it something fashion or cosmetics related? Because I LOVE the purple hair and I think we could really do some cute cat eyes on you, maybe even put some little rhinestones on your cheeks to make everything pop!"
"Uh, what?" Waverley replied, furrowing her eyebrows. Her mind was running at a million miles a second trying to figure out how she was going to lead up to her question, so his sudden unexpected mention of a possible makeover threw her off. "Oh, uh, thanks," she finally managed, her hand automatically reaching up to the purple locks falling over her shoulder. "But I was actually coming to talk about something a little more serious. You...see dead people, right?"" Instead of beating around the bush, Waverley decided it'd be best to just get to the point, before the young man could convince her to get a beauty treatment instead of pursuing the topic.
"Nope," Casper lied instantly. Ben gave him a bit of a look and tried to whack him in the back of the head, only for his hand to pass through harmlessly. So far, no ghost had been able to injure Casper. His father used to remind him that he had only scratched the surface of his abilities - that he could do far more than just summon the dead. It had been his way to justify trapping a kid inside of a mausoleum for days at a time. "I definitely do see dead people," Casper muttered, shooting a glare in Ben's direction. "What do you want? Here to ask Hitler if he really couldn't draw? Ask JFK if there was a second shooter?" he asked, feigning ignorance.
Waverley raised her eyebrows at Casper's quick denial of her claim. When she'd heard about his ability, she had her doubts. It went against everything she'd ever believed in about the afterlife, so she was ready to walk away with minimal disappointment, when Casper corrected himself. "How would JFK know-" she began to ponder, before shaking the question out of her mind. That wasn't why she was there. "No, nothing like that. I...I was actually coming to ask if you might be able to help me talk to my mom. As I'm sure you've heard, she passed away recently, and I would really appreciate a chance to talk to her again."
He curled his fingers into his hair, sighing once more as he looked at Waverley. "Look... You're not going to find anything but pain. You're not the first one to come to me asking for help summoning someone they love," he told her as gently as he could. His heart was hammering and Ben was giving him a suspicious look, as if he were wondering why Casper was being kind for once. "But I also know that you aren't going to leave me alone about it until it happens, so fine then," he clapped his hands together. "You owe me a pina colada. I'll summon her for five minutes and then that's it, okay? No repeat requests. No begging for another session. Just... this is it."
As Casper began to speak, his voice seemingly full of pity, Waverley's entire body seemed to slump, shifting from its stiff, rigid, anxious position to a dejected slouch. She'd predicted that rejection would be the most likely outcome, but she'd still hoped for more. She was getting ready to beg, but then the scraggly young man surprised her. She straightened back up, her eyes with shock, then excitement as a smile spread across her face. "Really?" she said, surprised. After a moment, she quickly nodded, worming her way past Casper into his room. "You got it! I'll get you a whole tub of pina colada!" she exclaimed before turning around to look at him from the center of his room. "Is there anything you need? A memento, or a drop of blood? I'm sure we could find a rat around if you need an animal sacrifice!"
Ben burst out laughing. "What does she think this is - a slasher flick?" he asked.
Casper forced a smile onto his face, hiding the immense offense he took to that. He knew that some people enjoyed the creepier things in life, but he preferred to avoid them. If he had his way, his world would be sunshine and rainbows all the time - without the ominous storms and blood rituals that seemed to accompanying the dead. "I'm not a satanist or a witch - I'm a mutant," Casper said, his words sounding a bit forced. He tilted his head up slightly, before he sat down on the bed. Closing his eyes for a moment, he fought the urge to bail at the last minute on Waverley.
Opening his eyes again, he flinched and scooted backwards, seeing the bloody and deformed cop standing at the foot of the bed - Waverley's mother. "She's... She's h-here," he said, his voice cracking. "Ask her whatever you want, she can hear you, and please, god, make it fast."
Waverley felt a twinge of guilt as she realized she'd let herself get carried away. Of course he didn't need blood or animal sacrifices. This wasn't a movie, and he wasn't some mysterious shaman. He was a mutant and this was his power. She was about to mumble an apology, when he spoke again. Waverley's eyes widened, looking away from Casper and towards the empty space in the room, as if searching for any signs of the paranormal. She found no such signs, other than a feeling. And she knew that it was probably nothing, just her mind playing tricks, but, by God, it felt like she was there. And suddenly, all the excitement was gone. Waverley's wide eyes began to dampen, and she covered her mouth. She'd thought so much about how she'd get to this moment that she hadn't realized she had no idea what she was going to say.
"Mom? I-I love you," she called out, her voice choked up, slightly muffled as her voice slipped past her fingers. "A-and I'm sorry for not being with the family right now. And I-I'm sorry if me being here, trying to help these people, is confusing for you, and I'm sorry if you're...disappointed in me, or something. But you always told me to do what was right, and I think that's this right now, for me," Waverley finished. What had started out as a well constructed statement quickly unraveled into a rambling mess of the worries that floated at the surface of Waverley's mind. After they'd tumbled out, she took a few breaths. "I...I hope you understand that, mom. That me...doing this isn't me trying to disgrace your memory. It's me trying to honor it."
As Waverley's mother spoke, only one of her eyes moved. Her lips were swollen and her jaw didn't open quite correctly, as if it were partially jammed on the right side. "Waverley, I love you and I always will..." the ghost began softly. Casper had his eyes closed tightly, just listening. No one else could hear her. "Do what is right... Even if the law doesn't understand. Avenge me."
Casper swallowed thickly. He wasn't that surprised to see the just cop take a bit of a homicidal turn - death tended to do that to a soul, especially so soon. "Sh-she says she loves you too... A-and she wants you to do what's right - to avenge her death."
If she weren't so caught up in the moment, Waverley might've hesitated or pulled back at Casper's relaying of her mother's violent words. But instead, she shakily nodded her head, her hand clamping tighter over her mouth. She wasn't sure what she wanted to do to Max. But she knew she wanted to do something horrible to him. She let her hand uncover her mouth, dangling at her side.
"I promise you mom...He'll get what he deserves," she said, her voice still shaking. But it seemed like something other than overwhelmed melancholy was causing her voice to tremble. There was an undertone of anger.
The spectral form of Waverley's mother approached her child, trying to wrap her into a ghostly hug but her arms passed on through. She couldn't comfort Waverley. All she could do was rely on the medium to tell her what she said. "Look after your sister, please... She'll need you more than ever... Once my murder is avenged, I believe I can rest."
"Your mother wants you to help your sister... A-and she says once you take care of things, she can rest... Which is something the horror franchises actually kinda got right? Ghosts can sort of come and go from the other side as they choose... It's just when they're around me that they're dragged from whatever afterlife they're in. Like a magnet."
Casper's explanation of the mechanics of the spirit world, which would've usually intrigued Waverley, was instead tuned out by her entirely as she slowly cast her eyes down to the ground. She wanted to take care of Riley, she did, but she wasn't sure how she could. She didn't want to leave the Underground, not when she was just starting to feel in control of things. And Riley couldn't join the Underground; there was no world in which asking a mourning, already cynical teenager to come live an abandoned building full of dysfunctional super humans was a good idea. Not to mention that, while the girl was a genius, she also wasn't mutant, as far as Waverley could tell. She wouldn't fit in well with those members of the Underground who were less than friendly to humankind. She supposed she could try to split her time up between the Underground and home, if she didn't mind not sleeping.
"I-I'll try my best...but she's strong...she'll be able to get through it, I know she will...maybe better than any of us...But I'll try to be there for her as best I can." She said, before pausing for a moment. Her eyes finally darted over to Casper once again. When she spoke again, her voice was worried and uncertain. "How...how much time do I have left?"
He opened his eyes, peering at her. "I honestly don't know. I've never really had a good sense of time," he admitted. "If you, uh, want to keep on talking... she's here..."
Waverley gave a nod of understanding, before dropping her head to look to the ground. She should've made a list, full of things to talk about. But she hadn't, and her mind was emptied of words. She was silent for a dozen or so seconds, before she raised her head back up to look at the empty space in front of her.
"B-before you go...I-I want you to know that you were the best mom I could've ever asked for. Me and Riley...we are who we are because of you. And...it might sound cheesy, but we'll always carry a piece of you with us..." as she spoke, a sad smile took residence on her lips, and the tears that had been pooling up in her eyes were threatening to spill over.
The ghost smiled at Waverley, putting her hands on her cheeks - even with the knowledge that her daughter couldn't see her. She kissed Waverley's forehead. "Be brave. Be strong. Be fierce," she whispered, before fading away. Casper couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. He wanted a million shots of vodka. Maybe a gazillion. And then he needed an entire barrel of cocaine straight into his blood. "She said she wants you to be brave - and then she left."
As the words left Casper's mouth, she could feel the likely psychosomatic feeling of maternal familiarity disappear. The tears that clung to her eyes finally fell, rolling down her cheeks. She let out a deep, shaky breath, standing silently in place for a few long moments. Then, she began to walk to the bed upon which Casper sat. As she neared him, she wrapped her frail arms around his neck, pulling him into a loose hug, her head propped on his shoulder.
"Thank you," she whispered, among the sniffles and unsteady breaths. Her body trembled against him, like a dog who'd been left out in the rain.
Casper froze for a moment, looking a bit like a deer in the headlights. Yet as confused as he was at Waverley's embrace, he wasn't heartless. He felt for her, even if helping her grieve for her mother threatened to bring back horrifying memories of his own childhood traumas. "You are welcome," he said, hugging her back and rubbing her back slightly, hoping that it might help her to calm down.
