Resupply

Posted on Thu Oct 24th, 2024 @ 2:50 by Jhanvi Dhar & Rebecca McMillen

Chapter: Besieged
Location: Art Class
Timeline: Evening, Wednesday, 3rd of February, 1993
2853 words - 5.7 OF Standard Post Measure

"I have the supplies you requested."

The simple, unassuming announcement was made to the almost-empty room with an air of reverence and near-apology for the intrusion on silence. Such was the nature of the phrasing, it wasn't hard to predict the man laden with a large cardboard box had perhaps been standing there for a protracted amount of time, not wanting to disturb the concentration of the classroom's only occupant. The delivery was not exactly Soren's to make, though his presence rendered the actual business manager entirely impotent and it certainly wasn't the first time the male persona had picked up where his sister-psyche had left off. The job didn't disappear just because Jhanvi did, after all.

Soren hadn't been seen since the surge, however, and none had got close enough to the mutant, not even Claire, to accurately predict when and why they decided to switch outfits, as it were. For all he towered over Jhanvi, Soren was generally a far more welcoming presence, at least less intense and less enamoured, perhaps, in projecting a vague sense of intimidation that never felt quite right because Jhanvi was as placid and understated as her male counterpart. It was something in the eyes; his, when he made eye contact, contained a compassion that hers made up for in pure shrewdness alone. Jhanvi dissected the world around her; Soren just seemed to want to figure out how to belong in it.

"I can put it down somewhere and leave you to your work, if you prefer."

The other occupant of the room stood before a easel, a large flipbook of oversized pages upon it. Typically these would see use in meeting rooms to save on costs for prepared placards. Now, it served as a makeshift scrapbook for sketches. Today's sketch was the lake, and the grounds around it. The interesting part were the lines in front of the lake, as though the point of view of the subject was below the grass line. A peek into the world Rebecca knew.

"Oh OH! I'm sorry, I'm sorry I didn't hear you knock!" Rebecca covered as she noticed Soren. She must have been off in her own universe, nevermind just her own world. "Any of the empty desks is fine, is fine thank you! I'm so sorry." she wiped her hands down to properly accept, graphite smeared across her fingertips and the meat of her hand opposite the thumb.

"I was just..." she motioned to the easel pad. It was a rough sketch to be sure, but she had a way with smearing pencil that just made it transition from doodle to sketch.

There was a brief hesitation, not quite energetic enough to be surprise. A solemn processing of the initial instruction whilst formulating the necessary inference to perceive the implied invitation, perhaps. Whatever the case, Soren took a few seconds to move and, when he did, his first priority was to set the box he was holding dutifully on the empty desk closest to what guesswork suggested was the supply cupboard. From there, moving quietly and without presumption, he wove his way through the rows to stand, hands clasped firmly behind his back, and gaze at the work-in-progress.

"It's perhaps a little strange," he eventually remarked, "for an art teacher to apologise for being absorbed by her craft. This is a local depiction? I recognise that rock."

The gentle gesture of an elongated index finger didn't really do much to elaborate, which was possibly due to the absurdity of the claim. From his vantage, the world at ground-level was quite a distance away for close scrutiny to be likely. Even if he had a hidden penchant for fossicking, individually identifying pebbles seemed a stretch. It took catching the glint in his eye, which his features remained otherwise fairly placid, to build any evidence that the man was joking. The proof was only solidified when he looked from the sketch to make eye contact and the corners of his mouth twitched as he dipped his head in confession.

"It's a lot different up close." she added with a smirk, "I'm surprised you noticed." she continued the joke, though caught his meaning.

"Art was always my escape. I guess it still has quite the hold over me." she turned back to look at the sketch she was doing. "It's the lake, seen at just over grass height. It's no more or no less captivating a view from either scale. It's just that, sometimes a natural view can make you feel small. Actually being small on top of that really brings out the wonder of the world. How it must have felt when the very first human came out of a cave and saw a lake for the very first time. Did it capture their heart, fill them with inspiration and wonder... or did it terrify them back into their caves?"

Then she giggled, "None of the local mice know. They're rubbish historians." she paused, "How have you been? I haven't seen you around."

The question seemed to take Soren by surprise. That he wore any expression strongly enough for it to be obvious was unusual in itself, but despite being a thoughtful and introspective man, speechlessness was rare. It was the simplicity of the query, the fact that it was such a mundane social transaction uttered by almost anyone who had gone some time between chats, and yet in his situation, the privilege of being treated as a separate entity was not always so easily earned. Ignorance helped, but that wasn't the case here, Rebecca was well-aware of his secretarial side, had ordered her supplies from the woman only the week before. Jhanvi wasn't sociable so much as she was a constant, having found her niche in the management of systems and processes that drew her into all aspects of the functional side of school life. To many, she was the 'main' persona, and he just a secondary afterthought, a charade even. He considered it a breakthrough to be called by his actual name, having his absence considered as something worth asking after was...unique.

"I am..."

For a moment, he wasn't sure of the answer.

"...pleased to be stepping out of my cave." Again, Soren's lips twitched. "Deciphering the splendour of my environment would be a more agreeable reason but perhaps there is time for that even with everything that is to come."

"As someone who camped out in a cave once, in glad to hear that you're taking steps out. As for setting the world.." she was pretty sure that's what he meant, "... I'm not on good terms with my mutation, but it comes in handy for getting those perfect angles or those wide landscapes."

"Most of my early memories of my mutation aren't exactly positive. Most of the good ones I've made here in Avalon."

A thoughtful silence considered the disclosure, brief and lacking in detail as it was. For the longest time, securing information had been Soren's soul purpose, that and the extra layer of protection that came from presenting a masculine presence in situations where solitude was unavoidable. Manipulating a situation, and the people within it, to extract the desired intel had been a requirement of the mutant's ongoing survival for most of their childhood and so it struck Soren as unusual to experience the free offering of perspective, especially of such a personal nature. He wasn't quite sure what to make of the gesture but found the notion of discomfort intriguing nevertheless. He scrutinised the artist for a moment longer before his gaze returned to her sketch.

"You would prefer not to be a mutant?"

She paused. That WAS the million dollar question. "I... no. No I'm not ashamed of who I am, I just wish there weren't so many horrible memories attached to it. I wish I could still go back to my parents, to my sisters, and be welcome. But I know better." she shook her head. "I'm sorry, didn't mean to go all late-night tv on you." she shook her head again, this time to get the depression out. "Just ... gimme a minute to.... There." she put the finishing touches on the piece. "It's ready for the Louvre." she giggled.

As quickly as the insight had been offered, it was shut down. Curiosity presented several questions that Soren chose to set to one side, out of respect mostly, as well as a general inexperience with pursuing conversations of a personal nature. Allowing his attention to, instead, be diverted to the canvas once again, the stoic man studied the completed piece with perhaps more scrutiny than had been intended and eventually dipped his head as a form of agreement. "It is certainly a perspective worth sharing," he ventured, not unintentional in his phrasing.

"I've considered doing a whole run of pieces like this. From a point of view that only I can have." a pause, "I guess it's not just what you can do, but what you do with it." she mused, a soft smile on her features. "If I wasn't a mutant... if I was just some ordinary little girl, without a tail. Without always needing to wear shoes. Without covering my ears around mousetraps. Without, well, if I could just have a normal life with my sisters...." she paused, "My entire life would be normal, but probably boring. I'd be one of those faces in the crowd. Part of the background. I'd just be...." she motioned to her canvas, "... That blade of grass."

"But I'd never know all the joys, all the experiences. I'd never have met everyone here. I'd never know that I had the strength to hike from London all the way up here. I'm part of a whole extra world, an invisible world." her smile grew a little, "I'd never know that I can gauge a restaurant based on how quiet the alley behind it was." she smiled a little wider. "I'd never have met anyone here. You'd all just be names on the telly. I'd never know your names, your stories. Well, not the real stories anyway." she offered, that tail of hers telling the story her smile started. It twitched near the tip, slowly starting to just sway while the tip twitched. Whether it was conscious or not was anyone's guess. She didn't even seem to realize she was just shy of wagging.

"I wouldn't give those up for a normal life." she shook her head, but still wore the smile.

Something shifted inside Soren, a strange and unfamiliar sensation that he might have attributed to kinship if he'd had any notion of what it was, let alone what it felt like. Once again, the open confidence without any manipulative techniques designed to draw information for an intent took him by surprise and set his own thoughts spinning as the inevitable comparisons invited empathy deep enough to burn. The mutant didn't speak of their experiences as a general rule, partially the result of trauma, it was speculated, but equally because of a very intricate and complicated sense of affinity that bordered on nostalgia and was generally perceived to be the kind of thing everyone would expect them not to feel about their childhood. Jhanvi in particular was not without a deep craving for the freedom she'd once had, and the esteem her abilities had afforded her in a kind of warped and exploitative way. Absolute anonymity came with an addictive quality, even though fleeing Dhaka had ultimately been their choice. Soren was far more at peace with relocation, being more inclined towards a conscience in regards to changing his appearance. There were still memories that tugged at him though, snippets that he hadn't expected to stir at the sight of dozens of painted blades of grass as a canopy overhead.

"I used to feed the rats," he said quietly after a lengthy pause. His tone was hesitant, a clear indication he was not very used to speaking from his own experience. "There are many that live in the streets back home. I would envy them, their capacity to overrun the place whilst still remaining out of sight. We learned to rely on them for navigation, particularly when it came to escape."

His oddly pale eyes sought Rebecca's.

"I think, had I known then that such affinity as yours was possible, I might have coveted it."

It was not meant as a platitude, something said to make her feel better about her situation or to be polite about her mutation. If nothing else, it was reasonably obvious by now that the mutant functioned by walking the thin line between tact and blunt honestly by deploying silence as the ultimate mediator. Something about his expression hinted at vulnerability, however, the lack of experience in confessing something as deeply personal as a child's first friendships.

She gave a nod, listening not just to the words, but the words behind the words. "I can relate. I'd still be lost in London if it wasn't for them. They showed me where to stay out of sight, where to find a nice warm spot, and how to get out of a tricky situation. Being able to talk to them, on a simple level mind you, really opens the world up. The biggest regret I actually have about it is when people find out you can talk to rats the very first thing they ask is 'Can you make them go away'." she shook her head.

"They say they outnumber people in most cities. I've never seen Ratopia or anything, but they're good friends to have. Next time I see one, I'll tell them you said Hi." she teased the notion of familiarity between rats. "You know, the more I talk about it, the more I'm grateful for what I can do. Looking back it's almost all bad, but looking forward I can see a lot of good. I guess I'm just in better company." she smiled.

"The Institute does seem to offer a viable option for many mutants." An awkward pause followed as Soren sought a way to navigate the wide gap between what he wanted to say next and the lack of eloquence in phrasing it in a way that would convey his intent. "I will be....present for the foreseeable future, at least until the current scrutiny has played out. It shouldn't have much impact but if you require more supplies..." He glanced back towards the finished piece of art. "Perhaps to expand the collection, it may be possible to be a little more flexible with your budget." A ghost of a smile tempted Soren's lips; Jhanvi was near tyrannical with the purse-strings, or at least the processes that lead to approving expenditure. The compulsion was not as strong on Soren's watch.

She paused, and turned to regard him as well as regard what he had just said. A budget increase? Under the table or not, that would go a long way, but the more important part of that exchange was the declaration. He'd be around more. "Well, I'm glad you'll be around more. It's good to have you around." she said, simple and honest. The truth was such a delicate thing, and Rebecca often treated it like a frisbee. Tossing it out there simply. "And yeah with everything going on, we all may need to have a plan to lay low. Lucky me, hide and seek champion right here." she gave a laugh, but it was more self-incrimination then self-praise. She was very, very good at hiding, and she had a history of running. "No more running though. I promised myself that much, and I won't leave a friend behind."

"I didn't have many friends before I came here. Had no one I could rely on other than myself. That's all changed. Thank you. For this, for the help with the department, for... for everything."

The only acknowledgement Soren found himself able to give was a slow inclination of his head. Thanks and gratitude were not commonly bestowed, particularly upon him. His actions were designed to apply mostly at times where ambiguity was required and any assistance he did render was not often easy to attribute directly. He had achieved most of what he had set out to from this interaction, at least, and though there was some conflicting sentiment in regards to lingering longer, he was mostly content to consider his task done. A faint half-smile softened his expression as he took his leave, and there was barely a sound as he pulled the door closed to restore the art teacher's privacy.

Rebecca watched him depart before getting to work sorting out the rest of the new supplies. She had made a lot of new friends since arriving here, and while Soren had a shell around him, she figured he would find his way in time. It took her forever to come to terms with who she was, Soren would be no different.. at least she figured as much.

She'd be there to greet him when he did. That's what friends were for.