Comfort Space

Posted on Thu Aug 29th, 2024 @ 8:56 by Alastair Temple & Liana Zhao

Chapter: Besieged
4473 words - 8.9 OF Standard Post Measure

It was starting to feel like sleep was a luxury afforded only to those who wore blinkers and lived possibly on remote farmland somewhere at high altitude, where news refused to travel fast and the local wildlife was more or less ambivalent to the genetic makeup of the humans making a racket above-land. Such hidden pockets of extreme isolation had come up a few times during conversations throughout the day, a sort of communal daydream about what it would take to live life free of political persecution. Liana had been in her job too long to be overly surprised by the capacity for people to arrive at very similar conclusions despite a lack of direct communication but she was surprised by how much the current longing for escape had started to dig under her skin to influence her own mood. At times of high tension, people came to her not to talk through their cognitive and emotional load but to seek direct advice, a willingness to surrender their self-determination in exchange for someone else's orders. The students in particular, at least a good majority of them, wanted to be told what to do next, what to think next, and with the administrative responsibility of the entire Institute looming down on her, the guidance counsellor was fighting her own battle against the allure of mile-high cliffs and a remote homestead far away from prying eyes. Running away wouldn't solve anything but there was no denying the appeal of absolute anonymity for a change.

Of course, that meant lending far too much credence to her mother's current line of objection, which was not only unhelpful given how many years past the point of secrecy they were, but predictably unkind. Liana had put the phone call off until late evening, mostly because of conflicting timezones but also because she needed time afterwards free from obligation to process the conversation and then move past it. Time had gifted Liana enough of an understanding of her mother to avoid direct confrontation most of the time but the woman's anti-mutant rhetoric was not easy to tolerate now that it had the threat of legal backing to increase its toxicity. By the time the pair had hung up, the counsellor had bitten her bottom lip to keep from saying something she'd regret more times than she'd kept count of and there was absolutely no chance, she'd realised, even after a hot shower, that she would be able to sleep with the older woman's ranting still bouncing around inside her head.

Why do you stay?

Why do you need to be involved?

You have control, you can live normally.

You are not like them.

The last had prompted Liana to end the call, with a firm good night and lack of promise to call again any time soon. That had always been the woman's way of handling things, the only way she seemed to be able to get her head around the fact that she had produced a mutant herself. Her daughter was not like the others. It had taken the young Liana a little while to realise that what her mother actually meant by this was that she didn't look like a mutant, and that in fact her mother seemed to segregate the genetically-gifted into the categories of obvious freaks and abominations and plausible deniability.. There was no denying that life was generally easier if it wasn't immediately obvious to the general public just how different you were but that wasn't an excuse for pretences. Liana had taken to the cold, dark corridors with the idea of seeking some late night tea to settle her nerves but she chose her path to the teacher's lounge with intent and, when a faint light cast outwards from beneath a closed door provided a more preferred option, she'd only hesitated a moment before knocking on Alastair's door. She no longer questioned that it was his company she craved whilst her mind raced with frustration and layers of pressurised expectation. She just hoped he didn't mind being confronted with it at 12:43am.

No response for the first moment. Nor the second. Then a murmured, tired sounding "coming," in a gravely, groggy tone. Another moment later the door finally opened, Alastair wearing a luxurious, black bathrobe with gold thread trim, his eyes a bit sleepy, his hair and beard messy. When he saw who it was though, he smiled and opened the door a bit wider, standing up straight. "Hey, Li. What can I do for you?"

"Oh god, were you asleep? I'm so sorry, I saw the light..."

A glance over his shoulder into the room painted a clearer picture, one of a reading light potentially left on but also just a stream of direct moonlight through slightly parted curtains. Liana wasn't quite sure why it seemed so apt, perhaps it was his tomfoolery in posing as a vampire, but the idea of Alastair Temple bathing in moonlight seemed at least an aesthetically pleasing concept. Especially given what he apparently wore to bed. Flushed slightly with apology, and feeling a little over-dressed, Liana shook her head slightly to indicate he needn't fuss himself. "Go back to bed, it's nothing that can't wait."

The scene behind him was more than that, the reading light was over his desk, upon which a messy collection of music notation paper was strewn about. Several pens, as well as a small and cheap electronic keyboard were visible as well. And his bed seemed untouched, still made up from the morning prior - from what it looked like he'd been working, writing music, when he'd fallen asleep at his desk.

There wasn't much in the way of decoration, just some album covers from his old band on the wall above his bed, and his signature guitar stood against the wall underneath the window. "Li, and I say this with the utmost sincerity," he began, locking eyes with hers. "Don't worry about it. Anything that's important enough for you to come see me at this time of night is important enough for me to listen to. Come in, come in. What can I do for you?" as he stepped aside and opened the door fully. As part of the sparse decoration for his room the only choices of where to sit were the chair at his desk, or his bed.

"I was just on my way to the lounge to get tea." Rather than protest and force the matter into a battle of wits, Liana simply accepted the implied hospitality graciously and slipped inside the room far enough that the door could be closed behind her. "I'm not convinced it will be enough to help me sleep though, and when I saw your light on, it occurred to me that the next best thing to a good night's rest is a whole night awake in good company." Her eyes flicked towards the desk, and the indication of creative process, and asked, "Are you sure I didn't interrupt anything?"

The music notation papers held no secrets for Liana, the trained musician that she was. They showed harmonies, in minor. Chord progressions, moody and melancholy. At her question though, a shrug. "Are you going to keep worrying and asking about it until I say 'yes'? I'd been writing for my - ... our ... project, before bed, and had fallen asleep at the desk. Don't worry about it. I'll make you some tea. I've got - earl grey and green tea. Any preference?" As he went to turn on his electric kettle.

It was a level of mundane fretfulness that Liana didn't often fall victim to, and the futility of it was enough to settle the matter. Perhaps under different circumstances there might have been more scope for feeling a tad presumptive inviting herself into people's bedrooms after midnight but, if she was honest, life had offered so many other things to focus her concerns on that Liana was past pretending this level of privacy, with this specific person, wasn't somehow important to her emotional state. They weren't in the city now, away from prying eyes, there were very few spaces where she could speak open and honestly with Alastair and not be worried that the wrong ears would overhear.

"Green, please."

Without another option, and because it was the closest available that kept her from getting in the way, she sank down to sit on the end of his bed.

"How are they coming along?," Liana motioned with her chin towards the compositions strewn about his desk.

"Well, I'm not lacking for inspiration, what with all the political upheaval and mixed feelings. It's just translating them into actual words, harmonies and melodies that's proving difficult. But I'm slowly and steadily plodding ahead," he explained as the water heated and he set about pouring two cups of tea; one for her and one for him. It was a good thing he did, in fact, have two cups available. "Did you want anything in your tea?"

"A sprinkle of Alastair Temple wisdom?" Matching the intended compliment with a tired smile, Liana shook her head and accepted the hot drink without additional embellishment. "Is there anything you need me to do?" For all it was unlikely she had come to talk about the music project, it was also true that it's natural insertion into the conversation wasn't an unwelcome distraction. "With the musical arrangements, that is."

"You come to me for wisdom? You must be truly desperate," Al half joked, though with a tired but honest smile; the compliment had landed. The tea offered, set down on his desk, within arm's reach of Liana, as he sat next to her with his own cup. "Eventually, yes," he answered, more serious now. "But not yet. This - I'm writing the bones of the music, as it were. The skeleton. Once that's done, that's where you come in. You can look it over, I can play you some parts if you want, and you can suggest changes, make additions - you know, put your stamp on it. I've got a picture in my head of what our music sounds like, but that is by no means the only way it - ... The words are getting away from me, but you get what I mean, I'm sure."

A weary nod became the only response for a moment, though the silence settled comfortably and was justified by the appreciation of the first sips of hot tea. With her hands wrapped around the mug to stave off the chill, Liana found her gaze traveling towards the playful hint of moonlight still peeking through the gaps in the curtain and she let her mind wander for a moment before a heavy sigh left her aware of the need to properly explain her sudden appearance. "If luck holds out, at least our collaboration won't be the only thing my mother has to lecture me on. We spoke this evening," Liana explained, not bothering to hide how much energy the conversation had sapped from her. "So far, her input on the current political situation is anything but helpful."

Ah, there it was. For all of Alastair's naivete - a fact he'd readily admit to - in many of little ways and wisdoms of life that others his age took for granted, he still could recognize when was the time for jokes and when was the time for being serious. At least, where Liana was concerned. "It sounds like there's a story there," he quietly offered, cupping his own mug of tea in both hands as well, also enjoying the heat. "Do you want to talk about it? It's alright if not."

A tired shrug wasn't a refusal so much as an indication Liana didn't really know where to start. "This is a woman who has never swayed from the belief that I should just have kept my mutant status to myself. She had me convinced long enough to try it and..." A deep breath in was released with a slight dip of her head to the side. "The lie became a failed marriage, and the end of a career path. I've always taken that as a fairly good indication that deceit isn't worth it." Liana offered her friend a weary smile. "My mother would say I just didn't try hard enough."

This took Al aback. He had to take a moment to process, to parse the words and the sentiments behind them. A sip of his tea, though he made a face as it was still a bit too hot to properly enjoy. "You mean, hide who you are?" he asked, raising a brow at Liana. "Pretend to be something you're not? I mean, I'm not suggesting you go stand on top of a building and shout out that you're a mutant, but you shouldn't have to hide that you are? It's an integral part of you. You should be proud of what you are," A pause and a sigh, as he rest a hand on her leg, near her knee - as both her hands were occupied. "Sorry, it's just - the very thought of trying to hide what you are just to appear 'normal' makes my skin crawl."

The sincerity of his reaction was appreciated, though far easier to deal with now that Liana had reached the same conclusion and adjusted her lifestyle to accommodate. "We have a complicated relationship," she confessed, staring down into her tea as she considered how best to explain it. The physical contact, whilst intimate under the circumstances, was by no means a source of discomfort. Given the subject matter, it was a boon to be in the presence of someone not afraid to touch her. "I spent a good portion of my life trying to be the dutiful daughter. Her way was never going to work though, and after it backfired spectacularly, I found a middle ground. I don't share my mutation with many, but I acknowledge it. Channelling my career towards representing mutants has helped me remain transparent."

For a moment, Liana closed her eyes to gather her thoughts. "It all seems suddenly very relevant." She opened her eyes again to gaze at Alastair, her brow delicately furrowed. "Disagreeing with my mother isn't normally enough to keep me up at night, but we're on the brink of being asked to hand over specific details and having her constantly reiterate the benefits of leaving the country and going to ground certainly isn't making the decision regarding my personal disclosure any easier." Liana sat a moment, her gentle gaze locked with Alastair's as if trying to read his thoughts through the thoughtful intensity she had grown to favour so much. "I don't know what to do," she eventually confessed. "Claire is using her own refusal as a catalyst for legal challenge and yet the school's operational status hangs on the precarious thread of licensing prerequisites. She has been careful with how she has worded the transferal of leadership, Avalon will remain non-compliant regardless of my personal input, which leaves me at an impasse. I want to make sure she has a school to return to."

Her frown deepened.

"Which means I may have to register as a show of good faith. The good cop to her bad cop, if you like, even though I will obviously have to very apologetically declare myself unable to rescind her orders. If I can just appear to be compliant long enough to keep them from deregistering every last accreditation we worked so hard to get..." It meant playing the sacrificial lamb, surrendering herself to the whims of this registration act, and therein lay the reason for her hesitation. "I don't know how many friends that's going to win me though."

Another moment's silence from Alastair, as he mulled over the words. Her gaze was met initially, but as the connection lasted he turned his head away, casting his eyes down, shoulders slumping slightly. "I don't know what to say, what to tell you. This is all - ... Beyond me. I have no wisdom to share, no answers to give," he eventually spoke. "I've got no mind for politics. Just a - ... sense of justice, that I can't even explain. Can't put to words why I think the things I think, why I feel the way I do. I couldn't even explain with logic or reason why - other than my life wasn't always nice or easy, and I want to help these kids have a chance at a better life than I had."

"These - politicians, with their rules and their laws and their registrations, know what they remind me of?" He locked eyes with hers again, his expression a bit hardened. "There was a time when another group of 'others' was forced to identify. It began very similar to this, but soon they had to wear markings identifying themselves. Then they were rounded up, put into ghettos. Then a war happened and the whole world got involved. This - whole mutant registration act reminds me of that. That's how it always begins. The rulemakers and the 'others'," He shook his head, seemingly frustrated with himself. "I'm sorry, this is all beyond me. I wish I had answers for you, but I don't."

It took barely anything to slide her hand over and curl it around his. Joined like that against her knee, Liana gave Alastair a squeeze and shook her head gently as if to correct him. "I didn't come here because I wanted you to tell me what to do, Al'." It was the first time she'd shortened his name out loud, a gesture very much in keeping with the warmth and familiarity of her tone. "I came hoping to find you awake because, without fail, you've always helped settle my thoughts. And you're right," Liana continued, paying tribute to the fact that he'd already framed things in a way that had angled her perspective in a slightly different direction. "If history has taught us anything about these patterns, it's that no amount of capitulation means anything when the people in power are only looking for a way to exterminate you without repercussion."

It was an ugly truth to give voice to but even someone as balanced as Liana in her world views couldn't deny that a core group of humanity would like nothing more than to eliminate the mutant 'problem' altogether. Others wanted to make use of it for their own means, but certainly nobody with the power to make laws seemed all that interested in quality of life for mutants in the long-term. And if they weren't suffering any guilty conscience about slaughtering the genetically-enhanced, they certainly weren't going to be swayed by gestures of cooperation to give a damn about their education or long-term job prospects. Bowing her head forward, Liana closed her eyes and lifted their hands so that she could settle the warmth of his knuckles against her cheek. "I don't want to surrender my humanity just because they claim I have none. I'm just scared, Al'. Of how quickly I become a serious problem if they back me into a corner. I don't...want to hurt anyone."

"Meet me in the middle, says the unjust man. The just man takes a step forward. The unjust man takes a step back. Meet me in the middle, the unjust man says again," Al's voice was quiet, little above a whisper. No more was needed, as close as they were. "At first I was thinking I'd just register. After all, what harm can it do? I'll meet in the middle, sure. To keep the peace. Then I spoke with Claire, and she - well, she woke me up, I think. I guess I grew up a little bit. I'm not going to register. I don't know what you're going to do, but - " a moment's hesitation, before he removed his hand from her knee, from underneath her hand, and wrapped his arm around her, gently pulling her a bit closer. "I'm behind you, all the way."

One supposed, should they ever think to attempt it one day, that the pair of them might monopolise a dancefloor or two with the amount of synergy and fluid, compatible coordination it took to end up sat on two completely different seats and yet also melded into a seamless hug. It mostly required an agreement about the position of legs, and consent to not be too worried about knee placement, and yet it eventuated without incident or even much need to renegotiate for comfort sake. Liana was more interested in the broadness of Alastair's shoulder, and the faint contour of his clavicle as her cheek found a place to rest and she sank into the embrace without protest. She had gone, she realised, from being genuinely torn over her choices to understanding there really was only one, it was just a highly terrifying one. Showing vulnerability wasn't something Liana often did but to pretend she was anything other than overwhelmed by what they were about to face would have been dishonest. She'd made a promise to herself to try and avoid that where possible.

"Thank you." Two simple words wrapped in the complexities of a voice that broke just a little from emotion.

Alastair was comfortable enough like this - at least, for a while. It helped that this seemed to be what Liana needed at this moment, whether she knew it or not. Manya thought aced through Al's mind. About the mutant registration act, of course. Shades of rebellion, fueled by years as a metal musician, kicking against the established order. Even now, the lyrics he was writing for his - their project were inspired by the sociopolitical challenges they faced, being what they were. Claire's words, Claire's plans. This was going to be an - interesting time, for sure. His own confidence that he wasn't going to register, combined with an amount of insecurity, was refusing to register truly the wisest course of action? He had no idea what would happen. Just that his gut feeling told him that refusing to register was the right thing to do.

But more than anything, his mind wandered to the person now leaning against him, the person he had his arm around. A gentle squeeze to Liana's shoulder, as he leaned his head against hers. A soft sigh, eyes closing, and more aware of his own breathing, his own heartbeat, than before. At her two simple words and the break in her voice he smiled softly, musing a quiet "You're very welcome", before placing the softest of kisses on the top of her head.

"You have no idea how much I needed this."

The confession was made after a prolonged silence, a peace that had been too precious under the circumstances to shatter too soon. With her temple rested against Alastair's chin, Liana had stared blankly at the strip of moonlight illuminating the pattern on the rug that covered most of the floor, feeling herself slip towards the vacant meditative state she sought so frequently and yet wasn't always successful in achieving. It formed a central part of her management, the intentional manipulation of internal energy sources to keep them harmonised, and yet there were times when she let things slide, when it wasn't so easy to clear her mind of all the day's clutter. A sudden hitch in her breathing caught her by surprise, a brief jolt before a long exhale that shuddered just a little under the strain of emotional release. She was not, as it happened, being entirely literal. The embrace, the conversation, the peace and quiet, all were important, but there was a much larger this moving rapidly towards the confrontation of direct acknowledgement. A hand slipped down to take his and Liana once again closed her eyes.

"You are an exceptional distraction, Alastair Temple, and a very welcome one."

"I try," It wasn't much of an answer, he realized right after saying the words. Though maybe the soft squeeze held more meaning than the words did. Her hand readily welcomed in his, his thumb gently and slowly caressing the back of hers as the two found each other. No more words spoken, he let the moment last as long as she needed it to. Or, at least, as long as he could before the discomfort of the make-shift position started to really make itself count. With a wince he shifted position, having to let go of the embrace - at least for a moment.

"Sorry. Awkward position, getting a bit of a cramp."

It was enough to break through the tension and permit a soft huff of laughter by way of empathy. "No falling to pieces before the battle's begun," Liana cautioned moving back into her own personal space at least partially more relaxed than she had been. "Which is also a good reason for both of us to get some sleep." Realizing they were both still holding hands, she gazed at the connection for a brief moment and then offered a gentle squeeze. "You've given me something to think about but, more than anything, I think you've helped me realize that I already know what I want. I just need to decide if I can live with it should things turn badly."

"All we can do is try to do the right thing in the circumstances," Al offered, quietly, giving a gentle squeeze back but not letting go of Liana's hand just yet. "Whether we can live with ourselves after - well, that's for future us to worry about. But at least they will know we did the right thing with the information we had."

"Or tried to, at least." The quiet agreement in Liana's tone was accompanied by the accepting nod of her head before she sighed and slowly rose to her feet. "It's late," she smiled, an unnecessarily obvious observation. "We both need to get to bed. Do me a favor?" With a tired huff of laughter, she asked, "If I fail to appear at breakfast, come knock loudly on my door. I fear the temptation to ignore my alarm may get the better of me."

"I can do that," Al had wanted to make a joke here, but the situation didn't feel entirely right for it. Rather it seemed to invite a calm and friendly, affirmative response, so that's what he gave. With a slight wince he rose to his feet, stretching out for a fleeting moment before offering her a hand up. The evening had been dull and boring, but Liana's visit had shaken it up.