Damocles

Posted on Wed Oct 2nd, 2024 @ 15:52 by Jonathan Monroe & Rebecca McMillen

Chapter: Besieged
Location: Avalon Grounds
Timeline: Thursday 28th January - Late Afternoon (Sunset)
1927 words - 3.9 OF Standard Post Measure

"Look, I said hold still."

Rebecca grumbled, sitting on the ground, on the grounds of Avalon. With the sun setting, this was the 'Golden Hour' of art. Beautiful colors, long shadows, everything around this time was magical. That's probably why it also had the name of the witching hour. As for Rebecca, what she was trying to do was magic of a kind as well.

'Posing' for her on a large stone was a rather large grey rat, trying to look as regal as Rebecca instructed him he was. "There we go, just like that, I'm almost done." came the encouragement of the mousey blonde, who had a sketchbook and some colored pencils spread around her. The sketch was coming along nicely, even if the subject matter was a little comical. A rat in shining armor, the sunset behind it. Shield at the ready, sword on its hip. For all intents and purposes, it was a mouse knight. Well, a rat knight.

Coming up on the scene, one would have been forgiven for assuming the sight would have been the sort of thing to make one question their sanity. Or at least pay a visit to a local opticians. However, on the grounds of the Avalon Institute, it was just another day.

"What next, a recreation of the Sword in the Stone, but with a roll of cheese?" Jonathan mused. "Ah - Sword in the Stilton, perhaps?" He chuckled at his own joke as he perched a few feet away so as to not disturb the rodents too much.

"Arthur, king of the Brie'tons?" she quipped, a smirk on her features. "He won't bite. They're quite friendly actually. Well, mostly friendly." she reached into a pocket and retrieved a crouton she smuggled out of the kitchen. Once delivered to the rat, it happily squeaked and claimed its prize. A payment for a hard hour of work.

She looked John over quick, trying to see if she remembered him from before the assault. She met everyone then, it was just hard to remember everyone. "You know, with a nice enough wheel I could do the Round Table. Don't tempt me." she smiled, and then moved her sketchbook to show off her work. "I can't remember if we met or not. Aside from the... you know, when they came to the academy." she withered a bit, but resolved to stay strong.

"Well, if not, let's fix that. I'm Rebecca, the art teacher on site." she offered up a hand, smudges of color on her fingers and the edge of her hand.

"As I recall, we crossed paths over a cheese sandwich..." He corrected with a faint smile. One that faltered when he saw her extended hand. "Jonathan." Hesitantly he gave a very weak handshake that was more fingers than hand, quickly withdrawing when it felt like it wasn't too rude to do so. "English teacher. And, thankfully, one without a fear of rodents..."

"I'm rubbish with names, thank you." she replied. "As for them, they're just misunderstood. People are afraid of them for something that's not their fault. Everyone finds a reason to be afraid of them. Sound familiar?" she offered with a faint snicker before turning her attention to the rat in the room. "Stay away from the bakery. You can go." she said, a bit of a tone shift to her voice. A sense of authority, and the rat complied. Scurry scurry scurry.

"They like the bakery. They like the kitchen too." she remarked, then shook her head, "I'm sorry, listen to me, rambling on."

"You're fine," he nodded, thinking about what she'd said regarding people being afraid. "So they're just misunderstood. Born into a world where people fear them because of simplistic views..." He shrugged. "Nope, not ringing any bells."

She gave a smile at the reassurance. Sometimes all it took was a kind word. "Mind you, I hate comparing people to mice. Sometimes it's not fair to the people. Sometimes it's not fair to the mice." She gathered her art supplies into a neat pile but showed no signs of standing. "Have a sit? Don't worry, I ask before i sketch people." She invited, just glad to be around people who would understand. She was terrified on the inside over the news of Registration, but she tried to put on a brave face.

"You want to...me?" He was genuinely surprised. "I don't mind if you do, I just...not had many requests like that before. I suggest you might need to make sure you have plenty of blue pencils."

Rebecca gave a nod, "I should have plenty." she offered a sheepish 'thank you' before she turned to a fresh page to start her project. Leaving Sir Squeak of the Knights of Brieton behind, she pulled up a fresh page and started to get a few rough lines in. "I hope things are going well for you. We're in the same building but there's just so much going on of late that I barely have time to chat." she started, a simple enough ice breaker. "When this is done, you can have it. Put it on the fridge or on a wall or ... well, whatever you want. I can only pastel mice for so long."

"Oh I'm sure everyone's like that at the moment. Lot of tension around the place." Jonathan perched nearby, trying not to look like he was posing while simultaneously doing exactly that. "So it's just mice? Rats? Other rodents? I'm sure there are different varieties, right?"

Rebecca gave a smile, "I tried a few other rodents, but the only ones I've had success with are mice, and rats. I hear their chittering, and I know what they're saying. I mean, it's not like they talk the queen's to me, but I just... well, I just know what they're trying to get across." she offered, silent for a moment, "I try to reassure the kids, when they tell me they're worried. I have to be brave, for them. Every instinct tells me to run, but I can't run from Avalon. It's safe here." she offered, "And if I run from the one safe place I have left, I'll be running forever." she said, with the tone that left no illusion of how little she was looking forward to that.

"I've got friends here. Yes, the two-legged variety." she stuck her tongue out before returning to a comfortable posture, finishing up a particular part of the sketch before moving to a different color. "I'll be honest, when I started settling into my .. what I can do... I was worried my eyesight was going to shift too. I can hear how they hear, I was worried I'd go colorblind." she admitted, shaking her head, "Glad I dodged that."

"Yeah." He frowned thoughtfully. "These 'gifts' are pretty incredible..." he opened his palm and let a small blue flicker linger for a few seconds before closing it. "But they do come with their, uh, side-effects?" It wasn't the right word but he was struggling to think of a better one. "At any rate, I think there's a lot of people who would think what you can do is pretty amazing."

She'd reserve judgement on her view of her 'gifts', but at his compliment she gave a nod, "Thanks. It's handy when I drop something behind the dresser. And I'm pretty sure the kids think I have a secret spy network of mice throughout the castle and the town." she smirked, "My lawyers have advised me to say that I don't." she had a little fun with that one.

"That's a pretty tint of blue. I know this is going to sound rude, like I'm asking you to show off, but can you do other colors?" Rebecca asked.

"Ah - well...only really similar shades," he admitted. "Something to do with my mutation, I guess. Supposedly the color is related to the fuel or the temperature, but I don't have an answer. And yes, all of my hair is blue, too. Legs, arms, chest..." He shrugged. "Short of a biology doctorate, I've just given myself to accept that as a quirk."

"Weird how that lines up. Powers, talents, tricks, whatever you want to call it.... and style." she offered a smile before turning the sketch around to show him the portrait. She had a talent, that was certain. "When I'm feeling really adventurous, I get smaller and fill in the details up close. Though, that just makes a mess later. Hands and feet ever color of the rainbow." the portrait was quick, certainly, but it showcased her skill and command of color. The blues of his hair came out nice.

"Here." she offered it. "A McMillen original. I call it, Jonathan by Night." then something clicked. "I can drop it off at your room if you'd rather not, get handed something?"

He mirrored her hesitation, almost habitually. Then he stopped himself and extended his hand. "No. Can't run forever, right?" he said, echoing her own words just moments before. "Got to trust each other as much as we trust ourselves."

Rebecca gave a nod, and now offered it out to him with a soft smile. "Exactly." Hearing him with the same confidence it took so long for her to find was so encouraging. "And hey, I trust you. Just like you can trust me not to sic a swarm of rats on you. Wait no, it's not a swarm. They call a bunch of rats a plague. Isn't that rude?" she mused.

"Mind if I ask you a rough question?" a pause, "The registration. What are you thoughts on it?"

Jonathan's face visibly twitched, and he had to stop to check himself before he answered. "I think that it's for each one of us to make our own minds up about it," he replied carefully. "Claire has her opinion on it, which is well-known. However, not everyone is so quick to dismiss the idea." He shrugged, trying to play down his position. "It could have benefits, especially if it stops the more dangerous or out-of-control mutants from doing harm."

She listened, and gave a nod at the end. Regardless of her consideration, she acknowledged his stance and respected it. "I guess it's something we all have to consider. I probably should have given you a bit more warning before asking something so personal. Sorry about that." she paused. "No matter what happens, you'll have me in your corner. We gotta stick together, right? No running."

"Right," he nodded quickly, in some ways relieved that she wasn't diving too deeply into his viewpoint. "No running." Another pause. "Does that mean you've also made your mind up?"

"My parents registered me the moment I woke up." Rebecca said, finding a distant point on the horizon to focus on. "My mind was never in the equation. But I see your point. Dangerous people should be looked after, and some of us can be pretty dangerous. In the end, it should be a choice. I just would have liked to have been given the choice." despite it all, the next time Rebecca looked over she had a soft smile. "Like I said, no matter what." she then looked around, "Uuugh I hate having to clean up." she grumbled, starting to gather her supplies.

"Yeah. You're right..." He nodded, recognising that for many, the 'choice' was a little less obvious. "Here..." He helped fetch up some of her things. "Gotta stick together, right?" he smiled faintly, echoing her previous statement.