Beautiful Pieces

Posted on Thu Oct 26th, 2023 @ 11:43 by Rebecca McMillen & Jhanvi Dhar
Edited on on Fri Oct 27th, 2023 @ 8:53

Chapter: All Hallow's Eve
Location: School grounds
Timeline: 2nd of November, 1992
2698 words - 5.4 OF Standard Post Measure

Though it had been days now since the castle had returned to what could loosely be referred to as its new sense of normalcy, there was still the occasional hint that something had gone awry. This was most evident in the behaviour of the people within its walls, of course, still finding ways to cope with a threat that had imposed itself and breached the sanctuary Avalon had always promised to provide. A few physical scars were in need of repairing, however, and though it was likely the last consideration of anyone under current circumstances, the garden that framed the courtyard directly below the teacher's lounge had suffered one too many boots in the recent skirmish to avoid a degree of decimation. The Institute's groundsman had done his best as always but there were priorities and several crushed and broken rose bushes paled in comparison to what needed to be done at the front of the school. The eyesore had remained untended and, tucked away out of mischief, would likely have stayed that way for several more days had it not presented the perfect oasis for a particular mutant navigating their own personal crisis.

Soren had not reverted back.

This was less a matter of being stuck in alternative form than it was a personal choice to remain. Jhanvi's persona was turbulent at the best of times and had only become increasingly so since arriving at Avalon. Though the pull of such a familiar mindset was strong, the more docile of the pair had hesitated in relinquishing control, battling as he was with his own level of fascination with what had just transpired. Though he understood the level of concern shared by those around him, the changeling had struggled to connect to a similar sense of urgency, finding himself either curiously detached or increasingly inquisitive, depending on how much he allowed himself to dwell on things. Jhanvi, for all her outward appearance didn't always betray it, would not have shown similar restraint. And so, in deference for the job that needed to be done, and also just to take a break from the constant strain of resisting temptation, Soren had stayed.

He was currently pruning roses.

A presence joined them outside, near the bushes. Nothing ominous. Nothing dreadful. Just a presence.

Rebecca was always used to stepping lightly, as to not wake up members of her family when she lived with them. Now, though, it was a reflex. One she might eventually train herself out of. Her purpose near the flower bed was something of a mixed bag. She had come for some of the ruined flowers as something of a project for her class, but now she was also given the chance to chat with someone about, well, the events of Halloween. Though, a portion of the events was something she really wasn't looking forward to recalling, or remarking on.

Maybe she could just leave that bit out.

Every encounter started with a word, and none were more often chosen than, "Hey?" she offered. A soft smile on her features. Regardless of how awkward the memories were, Rebecca was always friendly first.

A pivot on the balls of his feet allowed Soren to remain crouched whilst also acknowledging the new arrival. Fathomless eyes, a pale blue in the sunlight rather than the more subdued grey they appeared in gloomier surrounds, regarded Rebecca with pronounced gentleness for a moment that seemed oddly different to the same impassive scrutiny Jhanvi tended to favour. For all intents and purposes, it amounted to the same neutral expression but something about the eyes, it was different.

Hands on thighs, the tall man rose and inclined his head. "Ms. McMillen, good morning."

"Morning. I was just coming out here to find a few that were mostly intact. I was going to have a class use them as a subject." Rebecca offered, looking upwards at the taller man. "I, umm..." she paused, searching for the right words. "I wish we met under better circumstances." she offered, trying to get past this part. She didn't want it brought up, and yet here she was bringing it up. Maybe it was just to get it out of the way, put it behind them.

The very faintest twitch of his lips almost passed as a smile. "It is perfectly fine to consider that we did. There are distinctions between my forms but the memories remain mostly intact." Twisted and warped by nuances in perception, framed a little like one might remember details of a book they had read or a film they had watched, but with more intimate details of the thought processes behind motivation. It was a difficult existence to explain. "Though I am...pleased to have made your acquaintance this way." This time, his eyes did allow a glimmer of humour. "I generally managed a far better impression in this form."

She gave a nod. Content to let the details of the meet slide into the fog of the past. Even if the 'past' was just a few days ago it felt. At their words, she gave a nod of realization. "I know it's comforting for me to know I'm around people that understand me a little better, or in some cases a lot better, than anyone outside Avalon." Rebecca offered. "And yeah, as weird as the second, first meeting went, I'm glad I got to meet you, and you. Sorry that's a little odd."

"And yes, I'm glad I got a chance to meet you. Meeting new people is a new experience, and I like it."

Subdued silence followed, more thoughtful than previous sullenness had favoured. The difference between the two facets of the mutant were ultimately quite subtle and yet still noticeable enough to the attentive to be more than just the skin-deep variations in appearance. This was the first time in quite a while that any had been given the opportunity to make the comparison, however. "I am glad that I was there," Soren eventually settled on. "Though I do feel that I owe you an apology."

"Me too. It helped me feel, less.." the last word she wanted to use there was LESS, but it was the only word that fit, "... afraid. and there was a lot going on. Things got very unusual." she offered as a way out. "What do you think you have to apologize for?" she asked softly, not wanting to sound like an attack as she stooped a bit to gather a few of the damaged, clipped roses.

Almost as if to emphasise the point he was about to make, Soren glanced down at the gardening gloves on his hands and then swept them behind him, clasped at the base of his spin as he watched her work. "In my haste to ensure that we did not lose track of you, I breached a line of etiquette that normally warrants discussion at the very least." Seeming to struggle with finding the right words, Soren paused, his brows knitted as he found himself forced to delve into personal disclosures not typically divulged. "My abilities are...confronting, some might consider unethical. Utilising them without prior authorisation is something that has been impressed upon me as a considerable violation of trust."

Slowly, he unclasped his hands and held them out in front of him, still encased in the protective rubber.

"Normally it is quite easy to avoid, I am only able to form an imprint from direct contact with genetic material." His dark eyes found hers. "I was not gloved when I invited you to take shelter in my palm."

"I took no offense. Trust me, that was one of the most terrifying moments in my life, up until then. You helped me out, so I owe you one. Which, I guess, makes us even." she paused. There was more to this, to their expression, their tone. Rebecca stood up, a few ruined roses in her gentle grasp, "It's more than just 'I took a walk across your palm', isn't it? Walk me through it, tell me what to expect, what you're going through." Imprint. Material.

"Whatever it was, it messed with what we do. Ramped it up. So I guess you're worried about hearing voices asking for food?" she referenced her talent for rat conversation. "If it makes you feel any better, I don't know how it works either." she smiled, but then turned serious. "I know it sounds silly to say, in a place meant FOR us, but whatever it means, whatever you have, just walk me through it."

"I do not believe that I will share in your gifts any time soon." A docile calmness stood in place of a gentle smile, reassurance that even after the escalation of ability, Soren was not likely to breech one of the final obstacles hindering full transformation. Had his companion any capacity for mind reading, she might have noticed a slight hesitancy that suggested the mutant wasn't entirely sure of his claim but it had certainly never been within his scope before and the surge had waned enough that even the residual benefits likely wouldn't extend that far. "But I have unintentionally accumulated enough biochemical information to present a passable facsimile. I will not, of course," he added. "But that seems quite beyond the point, I have discovered that people are very reluctant to accept the risk."

Once upon a time, when circumstances were far different and the entity known by two names had far more limited options, such courtesy had not been extended. The mutation provided far too much protection, far too much opportunity for an indentured orphan to spend much time worried about the ethics behind its usage. Rescue and extraction had brought with it a different perspective but had done very little to temper the compulsion. It was not something Jhanvi ever spoke about and typically something Soren was never given an opportunity to confide over.

"They don't feel like gifts." Rebecca offered, looking away for a moment before returning her glance back to them. "And, well, if you mean you can look like me, nothing special there either. Avoid tight shoes, and tight pants." she offered. Hearing that someone could imitate her, pose for her, stand in for her... she felt as much sorry for them as she did concerned about the notion. You couldn't just steal someone's identity, though, right?

"I trust you. Mostly because I don't think there's any reason for you to do anything wrong with this." she offered. She took a breath, and then offered a soft smile. "I take it, people freak out a lot when this happens? I think my threshold for weirdness is a little higher than most."

Also, imitating Rebecca wouldn't really help them.

"Besides, being me isn't all the glamour it sounds like."

A quizzical tilt of the head became a matching partner for the faint furrow of thoughtfulness that disturbed Soren's otherwise calm features. Trying to explain the intricacies of people's perception when it came to his mutation would have involved several confessions of his application of them over the years that didn't seem appropriate and certainly weren't conducive to constructing a socially healthy adult life. By the somewhat arbitrary standards of law-abiding shapeshifters, his entire childhood had been a string of violations, each of which probably would have warranted repercussion if conducted within a society that sought to protect a baseline level of consideration. He'd got away with it because nobody in power cared enough to stop him. Quite a few of them had made perfectly good use of him, in fact.

It was not his own experience, however, that had piqued the mutant's interest but Rebecca's reiteration of reduced self-worth. Eyes that remained an uncanny shade of blue against the duskiness of his skin studied her for a moment before he phrased the inevitable query with much the same delicacy he had shown the battered roses. "You believe yourself aesthetically undesirable. Might I know why?"

"Feeling small comes with the territory of being small. My sisters treated me like a doll, and my parents didn't do much to convince them otherwise. I'll never forget the day I got these... abilities. I don't call what I can do a gift or a power and certainly not a talent. I have two sisters, and when I came into my mutation I spent the better part of the next few years as their pet." she was quiet for a moment, "So, yeah, if you can BE me, just be warned, there's a lot that comes with that."

"I can't imagine what being anyone else here comes with. And if you can be any of them, too, then..." she shook her head, "Then I'm so sorry you had to add me to that mix."

In place of whatever platitudes might have been socially expected at that point, there was only silence. It was thoughtful and paid the divulgences offered due diligence, but lingered nonetheless. From either perspective, whether it be his own or his more prominent alter, Soren was not practised in the art of comforting and yet found himself compelled to attempt it, searching deep for the right words to convey his sincerity. Eventually, after a long moment of increasingly awkward eye contact, he spoke.

"Since my liberation, my mentors have sought to teach me that every imprint I possess is an honour and deserving of reverence. What I am able to do is very rarely useful in ways beyond deception, and if the application veers towards manipulation and trickery, then it falls to the motivation to define its merits. Every guise that I am able to adopt is a privilege and I do not find you lacking amongst those I have bonded with, though I regret that I did not seek permission first." The words were stilted, grandiose as a substitute for natural eloquence, and yet presented with a quiet certainty that at least suggested they were representative of a long-standing belief. His struggle to express his gravity was palpable.

Glancing around, Soren took in the scattered clippings as yet uncollected, and bent to retrieve the best of the blooms. Rising once more, he gently placed the stems atop the pile Rebecca already held and seemed to pause once more to collect his thoughts. "Broken can still be beautiful." His brow puckered with wavering confidence, having clearly ventured into territory very rarely verbalised if expressed at all. "I am...sorry for your experiences. I doubt you deserved them."

"Thank you." she said back, softly, tucking a bit of hair behind an ear. "I..." she lost whatever she was going to say, and had to reboot her train of thought. "I'm grateful that, in that moment, at my absolute most vulnerable that I had a friend there to help. It was a rough spot for both of us, so, I forgive." she offered with a smile, being able now to look back at him. Broken can still be beautiful. What a fantastic sentiment.

She held the blooms gently, so as to not harm herself on the thorns. "I'm grateful. I'm thankful, and I forgive you." she felt that there needed to at least be a point where she said that everything was clear, clean slate. "And, thank you. I'm sure you say that to everyone you've held in the palm of your hand."

The smile that emerged held a somewhat self-depreciating value of its own, though it still went a long way to diffusing the intensity of Soren's typical stoicism. "My record stands at 100% so you may have me there." Lowering his gaze to the bundle she held, the mutant then turned his head to consider the bushes he'd been tending as if to mull something over before summoning the courage to press forward. "If there are other clippings you would like to gather, I am happy to assist." And upwards gesture with both gloved hands drew attention to the fact that he was still dressed for the part.

To the offer, Rebecca gave a nod, "Be a shame for them to go to waste."

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