ArchivedLogs:Reeling

Reeling
Dramatis Personae Flicker, Hive, Jack, Jax	Sunday, May 17, 2020 << /Sniper/, not a frakking shotgun. >> (Part of Future Past TP.)
Location Subway car
Long, gray, and very tubular, there is very little to distinguish one subway car from another in New York City, aside from their serial numbers (if you care to stare at them long enough to commit it to memory). Seats line the walls and poles divide up the spaces between, allowing passengers to hold on during their speedy journey through the tunnels under the earth. There are ads on the walls to break up the monotony of gray and glass, political and commercial pops of color to distract the eye, allowing people something other than people to study while they ride. There's no movement in this traincar. Hasn't been a long-long while, to gauge by the state of it. Its outside is well covered in graffiti and rust and dirt, its seats chewed-up and falling apart. Surprisingly clean on the inside, though, considering the years' accumulation of ratshit and trash and slime molds growing on the tunnel walls outside. At the moment this car has been spruced up further than usual. Swept out. Neatened. There are crates stacked tidily against the walls, an electric lantern giving dim illumination behind the curtained windows. And Flicker -- more heavily scarred than his past self, in more weatherbeaten clothing, his mechanical arm replaced by its long segmented tentacle one, waiting outside one door. He looks calm, really, resting up against the side of the subway car still and motionless -- which, to those who know him well, qualifies as downright /antsy/ for the normally fidgety teleporter. His mind shows the jitteriness far more than his body, a restless snarl of wired nerves and uncertainty. << Will they --? >> << Will this --? >> << Will he... >> This last, more concerned than anything else, as his eyes dart over towards his companion. Nearby him, Hive is -- Hive. Gaunt and angular, lank hair pulled back into a ponytail. Cigarette half-smoked dangling between his lips. Deeply shadowed eyes half-lidded. "Fff." He's probably making the sound with his mouth. At least, his mouth moves, or looks like it does; but the hissing noise sounds just as much in Flicker's mind as it does in his ears. So do his words, when he speaks. "Fuck you and your worrying. They'll show." And just like that. A jolt, dizzying, far more nauseating than your /usual/ long-range teleporting. Bam. Hive doesn't even look up at the first jarring slam of /people/ yanked through from -- wherever. Just takes another drag of his cigarette. "See." This first arrival comes with a flash. Kind of literally, too bright and jarring. Jax tenses, leaning back against the tunnel wall, one arm curled around himself and a shield shimmering defensively around him for a moment before it drops. Yet again, he is not dressed for an apocalypse. Shiny silver leggings, black crushed-velvet skirt, glimmering purple Doc Martens, a silver and purple tank top underneath a black fishnet shirt. His mind flares -- first with panic, then relief, then joy, then panic again all at seeing Hive. It settles into a low-grade sort of: << wat. >> And then: << not again. >> Aloud, only: "... oh." His arm tightens further around himself. "Y'all ain't dead." There's no flash, no shininess, no shields, when that second arrival appears. In fact, at first it looks like just a pair of jeans and a hoodie have been dropped into the tunnel, falling back onto its rear. But mental abilities will pick up a decent dosing of panic and small objects in the area rattle and shake off where they're resting until Jack gets his power under control. "What the hell?" he eventually asks, hood falling back off his head as he looks around in pretty clear confusion. For Flicker, a surge of joy, too. And loss. And hope. He shoves these things back down, straightening out of his lean with a very brief quirk of smile when Jax arrives. "Sorry. I'd call ahead if I could. You okay, man?" His tentacle arm reaches out to squeeze at Jax's shoulder. His eyes cut over towards Jack, brows furrowing in some small confusion -- then moving over to Hive with a mental: << ? >>. << You need to learn to aim better, dude. >> "Hey." While his mental tone to Hive might be sharp, to Jack it is warmer. Somewhat gentle, somewhat apologetic. "Have we met? I don't know if you got caught up in this on /purpose/ or --" << I don't aim. Maya aims. I goddamn /fire/. >> Hive's tone is just as sharp. He exhales a stream of smoke up towards the ceiling, flicking at the cigarette to drop ash towards the floor. "S'no fucking accidents here. Just --" His teeth grit. "Just." Beneath his dirty oversized jacket, his shoulders tighten. "You've met. That's Jack. He's from your goddamn school. Five years ago." And, as an afterthought: "We're not dead. Yet. Check back again tomorrow, huh?" "Jack. /Jack/. Oh my god," Jax's panic is returning -- this time more protective and combined with a healthy dose of /grar/. "Y'all brung /Jack/ here what on earth are you /thinkin'/ is your /heads/ on wrong send him /back/ this place ain't /no/ kinda place for --" He cuts off mid-sentence, mouth snapping shut as he looks past Flicker to the stacked crates within the subway car. "... tomorrow. Right. Tomorrow. S'this it, then. We doin' this for real?" Jack starts to get up slowly when he notices Jax, edging closer to him. He pauses when he sees Flicker though, looking even more confused...as much as he'a able anyway. "Flicker?" he stares, things coming together in his mind slowly and dread building even as panic fades. Hive's words just cements it and Jack's shoulders slump. "...I got hit by a car or something, didn't I? This is some coma thing?" he mutters, just a touch of hope there. "Doing what?" he asks Jax, trying to calm himself down more. Panic never helps in his experience even if he is freaking out a little. << /Sniper/, not a frakking shotgun. >> Flicker shakes his head, looking back to the crates as well. "If your people are ready when they get here, then yeah. We are." He frowns back at Jack, shifting uneasily from one foot to the other. "... I don't know if we can. Yet. Once everyone is through, maybe. We'll just. Try and keep him safe, okay?" He sounds a liiittle bit unconvinced by his own answer. << Go with both, cover all my bases. >> "Saving the world," Hive answers Jack. Though he also sounds not particularly optimistic. Somewhat grim, really. Around the cigarette, his teeth bare in a thin smile. "Or possibly ending it. Haven't figured that one out, yet." Jax lifts a hand, scruffing his fingers into his mop of brightly dyed hair. The small strangled noise he makes is clearly frustrated. "My folks'll be good. They -- y'all -- they." His jaw tightens. "Always are." He pulls in a slow breath and drops his hand from his hair. "... y'ain't in no coma, I don't think. Jus' -- kinda. Time -- travellin'. A little bit. On accident. You know all those future dreams? With the robots an' all? We're -- sorta. There. An' tryin' to fix it." For just a moment, Jack stands there. Head tilted to the side and arms hanging, he's processing this all. His gaze travels slowly from Flicker to Hive to Jax and then back to Hive. "Yeah...okay, sure. Why not? I heard getting kidnappd is a thing that happens to us at the school so maybe this counts," he says. The invisible teen takes a few deep breaths, trying to keep himself from panicking again. "So...uh...yeah. I'll just...if there's something I can do, I'll give it my all but I'm not as...uh...badass as the me from the dream was...is...will be. Whatever." "Saving one world, at least." Flicker's expression betrays very little even if his mind spikes with a sharp, keen anxiety at this. An almost nauseated panic that he pushes back and, instead, gestures in towards the subway car. "Go on. There's food, anyway. Some -- blankets. May as well make yourselves comfortable. I've got -- a lot of people to usher in before we can go. Don't want to take on Oscorp on an empty stomach." "What I hear, getting kidnapped is pretty much your official pasttime at that place." Hive stubs the cigarette out against the side of the subway car. His knuckles grind against his temple, but he echoes Flicker's inviting gesture. "Yeah. Sure. Welcome -- uh. And sorry. About the -- well." His lips thin, and he slumps back against the car. "We'll try to get you back home." His eyes slip back half-closed as he settles back in, teeth clenching once more as his expression focuses again. Jax curls an arm around Jack's shoulders, still slightly tense though moreso in his mental landscape than externally. "-- Better do more than try," is all he mutters, starting to usher the younger man in towards the subway car. This muttering does not stop him from leaning in to bump Hive's shoulder with his own lightly in passing. Even if he does it with a frown. Jack is pretty tense too. He leans against Jax for a moment and reaches up to pull his hood back up. Just a little 'this makes me feel safe' gesture. It's plain in his thoughts that he's still in a state of 'freaked out' but he's trying not to show it. "Yeah, I actually have a date and I'd rather not miss it after how hard it was to even ask," he jokes a little nervously, letting Jax lead him.