Difference between revisions of "Logs:Awakening"

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(Created page with "{{ Logs | cast = Jax, Rasa, Spencer, Ted | summary = Ted freaks out when his powers first manifest, Jax/Rasa/Spence help him out. | gamedate = 2019-05-25 | ga...")
 
 
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| subtitle =  
 
| subtitle =  
 
| location = near Washington Square Park
 
| location = near Washington Square Park
| categories = Citizens, Mutants, Jax, Rasa, Spencer, Ted
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| categories = Greenwich Village, Mutants, Jax, Rasa, Spencer, Ted
 
| log = Five minutes ago, Ted was happily wolfing down a slice of mediocre pizza, on his way back to his dorm after a late-night jog around the Park.  
 
| log = Five minutes ago, Ted was happily wolfing down a slice of mediocre pizza, on his way back to his dorm after a late-night jog around the Park.  
  

Latest revision as of 09:33, 27 May 2019

Awakening
Dramatis Personae

Jax, Rasa, Spencer, Ted

2019-05-25


Ted freaks out when his powers first manifest, Jax/Rasa/Spence help him out.

Location

near Washington Square Park


Five minutes ago, Ted was happily wolfing down a slice of mediocre pizza, on his way back to his dorm after a late-night jog around the Park.

Now... well, now everything is different.

Truthfully, he isn't entirely clear on what happened. Shock will do that to a guy. He's _pretty_ sure he was hit by a car running the light on Waverly... but then, he's also pretty sure said car was left a smoking wreck by the impact, so his memories seem unreliable at best.

Relatedly, he's not exactly sure where he is, or how he got here... he just ran and hid. It's an alley, somewhere, and while he can still hear the police sirens and the shouting and the car horns none of it seems to be nearby right this moment.

So... well, that's good.

All of which admittedly is burying the lede: a far more immediate concern is that he's not himself. Literally. Instead, he's... well, he's a monster. Huge. Green. Dressed, if you can call it that, in the torn remnants of the jeans and sweatshirt he'd been wearing a moment earlier.

And _completely_ unsure what to do next.

This /particular/ alley was, at /one/ point, a nice quiet place for a little bit of art practice. Down at the far end, Jax has been tucked with a backpack, a paint brush in hand, a mural (a somewhat ethereal looking Washington Square Park, inhabited by strange fae looking creatures) developing on the wall in front of him that is as vividly bright as the artist himself (bold green and blue and purple hair, a green sleeveless fishnet shirt worn over a purple tank, black shorts with neon purple mesh pockets, glittery rainbow-and-silver Chuck Taylors, enormous mirrored sunglasses). "-- usually like to come check out the place a few times in advance, get an idea for what it looks like at different parts of the day," he's saying cheerfully to Rasa in a heavy Appalachian drawl, pitched a little louder to carry over the sound of the nearby sirens with the nonchalance of a long time city dweller.

Nonchalance, that is, /until/ there's a giant green monster appearing in their alley. Whatever ongoing graffiti discussion was happening is forestalled; Jax lowers the brush to his side, peering down the alley for a looong moment in silence.

Eventually, hesitant: "Those sirens for you, friend? Um -- I mean -- you look like you got yourself --" He bites his lower lip, wiggling at one of the several rings there. "A spot of trouble."

There are times in which being a wall crawler is a major asset. Today the benefit is the ability to both act as a look out and three reacher of hard to reach places in Jax's mural. Ze is currently upside down touching up the upper edge of the piece, one brush in hir right hand, another wrapped up in hir prehensile tail, with a third tangled up in hir hair to both keep the hair out of hir eyes be available for detail work.

Ze might have replied to Jax's conversation, but the sight of someone large and green arriving on the horizon edge of the incoming siren storm, ze peeks up a bit like meerkat, drawing hirself to standing. The mutant shifted in color from blues and greens complimentary to Jax's appearance, to a sharper green and golden yolky yellow, the brush in hir hair dropping as the length that was holding it disappears.

Ze bends backwards at the knees, correcting hir horizontal orientation. With hour free hands on the wall to help support hir weight, both brushes are transferred to hir tails grasp. "Hiii," ze offers, just loud enough to be heard.

Under normal circumstances, Ted likes to think, he'd notice a pair as... colorful... as Jax and Rasa _before_ they spoke directly to him. After all, it's not like they were hiding.

Admittedly these are hardly normal circumstances, and, well... again, shock is like that. For all he knows there might be a basketball-playing gorilla in this alley he just isn't noticing.

Besides, they're _tiny_. Which, of course, they aren't, he's just huge now. But still.

He opens his mouth to reply, not sure what he's going to say. Nothing at all, as it turns out... he just opens his mouth and closes it, several times.

He tries to shove his hands in his pockets, which makes him suddenly aware that he no longer has his pockets, precisely... and, come to that, no longer precisely has his hands, either. Instead he has these... _things_... that could juggle bowling balls like oranges.

Well, if he could juggle oranges in the first place, anyway.

He opens and closes them a few times, wonderingly. ("What is this?", he thinks irrelevantly. "It's your hand, Buckaroo!" Nonsense.)

It occurs to him, belatedly, that he could run away. That's what he did to everyone else who saw him like this. Of course, all of them pointed and screamed and ran, also, and these folks aren't running. Surely that counts for something?

Besides, where would he run _to_?

He wants to cry, all of a sudden... just break down sobbing, like an exhausted toddler. He doesn't, he probably won't, but his eyes tear up just the same. He's not exactly sure why. He's pretty sure he'd feel ashamed of it, if he were feeling anything right now.

He nods agreement, instead. Looks furtively over his shoulder, then back at the pair, whose eyes he can't quite meet, then down at the ground by his ridiculously oversized bare feet.

"I lost my sneakers," he says, absurdly. His voice is strange... deeper and louder than he's used to. He opens his mouth again, to apologize for saying something quite that trivially inane, but no words come out, and he stares at his feet again.

Spence had been, up until now, perched up near Rasa in the swooping bough of a cherry tree reaching out from some villager's tiny backyard. A gangling tween dressed in a black t-shirt with a large red '5' on the chest (subtler is the X-wing flying low over the Death Star /inside/ the 5, in various shades of red) and cut-off shorts, he is perhaps /theoretically/ keeping watch, though mostly he seems to be involved in an extremely animated text conversation.

And then suddenly he's down on the ground beside Jax -- but not having /fallen/ the distance, merely disappearing from his perch and reappearing below in what appears to be the same instant. His gray eyes are huge, but with excitement rather than fear. "Hey!" he whispers, waving at Ted. "Don't worry, we don't like cops either."

"Sorry," Jax's cheeks have flushed a deep red as he looks toward Teddy. "I don't mean to, um, I just, you're kind of, there's sirens and you don't have much clothes and I figured --" He's looking away, now -- as he gestures (vague and indecipherable) with his paintbrush in the air a rain of blue-green paint splatters out from the bristles to sprinkle the concrete pavement and half-finished meal alike.

Cringing, Jax sets the brush down altogether. Careful and slow, keeping an eye on the enormous green figure by the entrance to the alley. "I'm sorry about your clothes. If you need a place to hide out?"

Briefly he disappears entirely. Then reappears, gesturing (this time sans splattering paint) toward the mouth of the alley. There's a slight blurring that appears, fuzzy and indistinct, like a kind of foggy screen at the alleyway entrance. (At the same time, a new set of clothing -- /visually/ convincing but completely intangible and offering no actual protection from elements -- appears to swath Teddy in plain but serviceable privacy. Black tee shirt, blue jeans.) "I can make sure the cops don't /notice/ you, if you. Need..." For a moment he hesitates again, waving his hand in the air as if he might /grasp/ the words from it. "Just time. To figure out. Um. Can I ask what... /happened/?"

Rasa wall jumps down, from one side of the alley to the other, primarily saving the mural from hir descent. Ze isnt supernaturally quick about it and waits until both Jax and Spence have a chance to distract the new comer so there's less of a chance of scaring him.

"I'm Rasa. This is Jax and Spence. Jax and Spence, this person appears to be in shock." Hir introduction takes a turn from names to general information while hir voice remains somewhere between alto and tenor. "Do you want to sit down and take a couple deep breathes? Jax can make it look like we're a dumpster so you dont have to worry about anything for a minute." Ze moves forward at a more somber pace, attempting to look relaxed. "Were you hit? Are you hurt?" Ze shows a bare forearm in Jax's direction. It reads, *I can also be him and lead them away.*

No, not a basketball-playing gorilla, just a child in a tree. And then, a child not in a tree. And an artist performing miracles. And someone climbing along the wall. And he's wearing clothes again.

That they offer no protection, he doesn't notice; having just shrugged off a car crash, the spring weather hardly registers in the first place. He's just relieved to have his modesty protected.

For a long moment, he feels balanced precariously on a tightrope between two realities. One of them works more or less the way he's used to, where children don't teleport, adults don't have tails and don't stick to walls, artists don't do magic, and he isn't Frankenstein's Monster. In _that_ reality, Ted has a concussion from his car accident and is frankly hallucinating.

The other reality works like he'd seen in the news, read about on the Web, glanced out of the corner of his eye, and had somehow pretended not to notice for his entire life. In _that_ reality, the three of them are mutants, and... so is Ted.

Balanced on the tightrope, but only for a moment, then the moment's gone. That other world, the one he'd managed to keep at arm's length all this time, the world where people have superpowers and presidential candidates condemn mutant terrorists, has suddenly become _his_ world. And, honestly?

It's a huge relief.

After all, it's not _news_, exactly. Superpowered mutants have existed all his life. Discovering that he's one of them... well, it's a lot like coming out, really. A little scary, but also so much _easier_ than constantly denying it!

"I... didn't used to," he tells Spence. "Not like cops, I mean. But I guess they don't exactly like me now. So... well. I guess that is what it is, right?" He's trying to be calm, cool, collected, rational. It's all an act, and anyone with the slightest understanding of human nature can recognize that in a moment, but it seems preferable to freaking out right now. He can do that later, when it's safe.

A police siren is getting closer, and he looks at the fuzzy alley entrance. He doesn't exactly understand what's happening, but they all seems confident they can take care of the situation, and he nods.

"Yeah. Sitting would be good. To... yeah. Figure out." He pauses, stares at his feet, which are now wearing what must be size 20 sneakers. Leans against the wall behind him, slumps slowly to the ground. He ends up in a crouch, with his arms folded against his knees, his eyes nevertheless almost level with the other three.

"Thanks," he adds after a moment. It seems polite.

The questions filter gradually into his mind. "Oh. Yeah. I... a car hit me," he explains, haltingly. "I..." He gestures helplessly to indicate his newfound body. "The car..." As he describes the accident, flashes of memories appear, like a slideshow presented out of order. The squealing of tires. The taste of pizza. The shattered windshield. The fender hitting his knee. The police sirens. The hood crumpling against him. The driver, bleeding against the windshield.

Another gesture, pantomiming an explosion. Which, the car hadn't exploded, it had wrapped itself around him as though he were a telephone pole, or a tree. But close enough.

"I don't think I'm hurt," he explains uncertainly. "I..." he adds, haltingly, "the driver... I think the driver..."

The word 'died' doesn't quite form, but it hangs oppressively in his mind.

"I didn't used to be like this," he adds after a moment, to clarify. Clarify what, he isn't sure.

Spence's eyes only grow wider with Ted's explanation. "Oh no that sounds /super/ scary!" He sits down on the ground beside Ted, even further dwarfed now by the young man's muscular bulk. "I'm sorry." One of his legs bounces restlessly, as if sitting still just does not agree with his body. "Do you want some water? I can get you some water. Or juice."

Shed of his paintbrush, Jax's hands seem restless, now. Wringing at each other briefly, tucking thumbs into his pockets, immediately coming back out again to fidget with the slightly ragged hem of his shirt like he can't quite settle on what they should be doing. "A car hit you," he echoes, rocking forward onto his toes a liiitle closer to Ted. "Are you -- do you need some kinda -- are you hurt?" Even as he asks this, his brow is creasing deeply. His head turns briefly towards Rasa -- back to Ted. "That all sounds --" His teeth wiggle a little faster at his lip ring. "Pretty scary," he agrees, with a lot more reticence than Spencer. "Do you have anyone you can call? Family in the area or -- friends? Has this happened to you before?"

He hooks his thumbs through his beltloops, some of his restless fidgeting starting to settle. The smile he offers Ted is a little crooked, a little self-conscious. "Luckily, we're /old/ hat at hating the cops. It's a pretty mutual feeling. I'm sorry you're going through this. It can be real scary, the first time you --" This time, when he holds a hand up, it's more deliberate. Less fidgety. He doesn't disappear, again -- the hand he's lifting shimmers, turns a little bulkier and a /lot/ greener.

"Ask Spence for anything and he'll figure out how to get it for you. He's pretty resourceful." Rasa slips a hand into hir pocket and pulls out hir wallet. Ze extracts some cash for Spencer, should they need to get stuff. "So. What would you like us to call you? You don't have to use your real name, but it does help to have a reference." Ze is a little more sedate than the others in the group, keeping back a few paces and glancing between them and the entrance to the alley. Hir yellow eyes calm, the schlera shifting back to white while the iris takes on a golden hue, but hir skin remains green and hir tail swishes like a wary cat.

"Ted," he replies. Using an alias really doesn't occur to him. "That's me. Ted. I'm a student here." He blinks. "Was, I guess," he corrects himself. He certainly can't imagine going back to his dorm room like this, let alone attending classes. The sirens get closer, and he stiffens. Then they get fainter again. Apparently whatever the painter did worked. He relaxes a little.

"I'm not hurt, no. Friends?" he echoes Jax. "Sure, I..." He trails off slowly, pondering. Plenty of friends, sure, but was there anyone who would help him with this? He imagines his roommate's face if he showed up at his dorm room like this, or his teammates in the Violets' locker room, or his mom back home in Vermont, or, well, anyone anywhere, and shudders. Telling them he was gay had been scary enough, but this?

He shakes his head. "Not really."

He shakes his head again at Spence's offer, though it was nice of him. Rasa's cash reminds him that his newfound pants don't have his wallet, which he'd apparently lost along the way, and he misunderstands the gesture as an offer of cash, which he waves away reflexively with more pride than common sense.

They're all being very nice, he realizes, and it dawns on him that he's pretty much dumping himself at their feet like a stray cat, and that's not fair of him at all... no doubt they all have bigger problems to worry about, and no time to take care of a stray, especially if the police are after him.

"I should go," he says impulsively, getting shakily to his feet. "Thank you all for your help, but..." He pauses for a moment, trying to come up with a plausible excuse about where he needs to be. Nothing seems remotely sensible, so he lets it drop. "I should go," he repeats, sounding like he's trying to convince himself, moving slowly and unsteadily towards the alley entrance.

"Hi, Ted." Spence waves again. "Yeah like, people who can look out for you and sit with you. I mean, even if you're not hurt. It can be nice, to be around friends." His head bobs in an encouraging, if distracting, way. When Ted rises to go, though, he blinks repeatedly. "Oh! Um." He bites his lower lip. Glances at Jax, then Rasa, then back at Ted. "Okay! But um, I can go check to make sure the cops are all gone? I'll be right back I promise --" The boy doesn't even quite finish speaking, he just. Disappears.

And reappears about a second later, almost in the same spot, though he's partially unfolded from his sitting position, in mid-air, sneakers a few inches from the ground. He touches down lightly in a crouch as if this were the most natural thing in the world. "I don't /see/ any but they might still be looking for you?" He glances at Jax again, eyes huge and worried.

Jax's head tilts, as the sirens approach. He turns a more intent frown towards the mouth of the alley -- though on their end there isn't much to see. A slight shifting in the vague blurriness that leads out to the street. From the /outside/ of the alley it's a different story, the view down the alley neatly rearranged so that to outside observers it looks as though the alleyway is empty.

He turns his attention back to Ted with a slow nod. "Right, no, of course, if you want to get going, that's --"

Here he stops, interrupts himself with a slight duck of head, a scrub of his hand against the back of his neck as Spence speaks up. /Gets/ up. "Spence, honey-honey, don't --" is kind of preemptive but not preemptive /enough/ to stop the boy blinking away. Jax's small exhale is a little resigned.

He's kind of apologetic when he offers the addition to Ted: "I can't make the clothes come with you, they're just an illusion. But hopefully at least if the cops is gone you won't find yourself /too/ much trouble getting back to --" He tips his head back, looking over the enormous green man uncertainly. "... do you have somewhere to go?"

"I go to NYU," Rasa states, slipping off hir shirt and balling it up. As ze removes clothes, hir body grows, slowly shifting into something very similar to Ted's but not quite on his scale. Ze has a pair of black shorts under hir cut offs that grow and stretch with hir, so there's never actually a lack of modesty, despite what the process might reveal. Hir voice deepens as ze grows, but remains non-chalant. "If you want me to walk you back to the dorms, I can. But really, it might be worth it just to stay here and chit chat for a few more moments. Really get your feet underneath you."

The metamorph's tail disappears at the end, hir steps quickening to keep up with Ted. "If you stay and chat, maybe Spence can just snag a spare pair of my shorts. My person makes them out of spider silk. They stretch and grow really well, no matter the shape."

Ted stops, uncertain. He doesn't want to run into the cops again, and honestly he doesn't want to leave his newfound companions, but he doesn't want to become a charity case, either. On the other hand, like Spence said, it's nice to be around friends. Even when those friends were strangers not five minutes ago.

Besides, they'd just rescued him from the police after he'd admitted to k-- after he'd...

Jax's question, uncomfortable as it is, at least distracts him from recent events he is trying very hard not to think about. "Not really," he admits reluctantly. "Not looking like this, anyway. Especially if I'm not wearing clothes, I guess." He wasn't sure if that would make a difference, but it certainly wouldn't help.

His eyes widen at Rasa's demonstration. "How do you do that?!? I mean, just... change, like that?" For the first time, it occurs to him that maybe what's happened to him is not a permanent alteration.

Spence is bouncing up onto the balls of his feet again and again, jittery. "I can go fetch things," he agrees solemnly -- at least that seems to be what he's trying for, pitching his pre-pubescent voice as low as it'll reasonably go. "Rasa's /really good/ at shapeshifting, maybe you're a shapeshifter too?" He cringes. "Sorry, I mean obviously you are if you didn't look this way /before/ and now you do, um..."

"That don't necessarily mean," Jax cautions Spence quietly, "I mean, some people --" His cheeks flush red, nose wrinkling up. "... only shapeshift the once." He rubs once more at the back of his neck, fingers scrunching into his colourful hair. "Would it help if we thought about some kind of -- concrete. Next steps for you? I mean it sounds like you've had a pretty stressful --" He bites down on his lip, the toe of one shoe kicking against the heel of the other. "Whatever happened with the -- accident it'll be hard to sort through that from here. Rasa's got a /fair/ bit of experience with changing shapes and we've all knowed what it's like to deal with with powers that cause catastrophe you didn't intend on. But possibly starting with some clothes and a safe place to sit down a spell might be -- a place to start?"

"I do it without thinking, honestly. I've trained myself to do it less often, but there's still times when it just happens." Rasa shrugs and exhales deeply. "The best thing you can do when this kind of thing happens is to take a deep breath. Take a deep breath and concentrate on the calmest place you can think of in all of your life. A park, a river, a museum, a your bedroom at home. Just something where you know if you were there, you could relax and everything would be okay. When you have that in your mind's eye, just keep breathing, be aware of your body, and calm yourself down, slowly. Little by little, until you could be floating in a sea of feathers, warm and at peace, protected."

Ze smiles and glances to Jax. "This person right here, Jax, he's always helped me a lot. He makes fantastic cupcakes and has that sweet southern drawl that makes everything he says sound like it's covered in honey. He's really knowledgable and he can help. so maybe just... take a few minutes to discuss what comes next with him and see if we can't find you a place near by where you can relax."

"Shapeshifter?" Ted echoes Spence, embarrassed by how little he knows about the world he finds himself suddenly part of. "Does that mean--" he begins, looking back and forth between his three new friends with palpable excitement, but before he can finish the thought the others are way ahead of him.

"That sounds good," he agrees to Jax's and Rasa's proposal.

"So. I can't go back to my dorm room," he reiterates, feeling somehow much calmer now that the prospect of this as a temporary condition has been floated, even if only as a possibility. Any path forward is better than no path forward. "I mean, my roommate would freak out. But you all seem to be pretty experienced with, you know, the whole, I mean, being what you, what we, what we are. Is there, like, any place around here that, you know, someone like, like me, us, me, can, I dunno, rent a room, or something?"

How he'll pay for it without his wallet he isn't sure, but one problem at a time.