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| Meet the Fuckers; 5/23 - Night, Rachel, Calvin, Others | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jun 9 2013, 11:04 PM (677 Views) | |
| Mimic | Jul 25 2013, 03:06 PM Post #16 |
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One Man X-Team
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Christ, what the hell had he been thinking? It wasn't like Forge needed him to put damned ideas in his head. He usually had more than enough of his own. Who the fuck knew what kind he'd end up building around superglue and wings full've feathers his four year old daughter was apparently set on plucking out like he was a Christmas goose. How the hell he was supposed to stop that Calvin hadn't figured out yet. Not without that little girl giving him a look that was either way too much like one've his own, or that reminded him of her mother and that had a sudden lump in his throat he couldn't seem to completely swallow down. Maybe he could blame at least most've it on the damned mental image of himself hanging off the ceiling, superglued up there by his wings like some kinda fucked up part of a nativity scene. And, shit, he was rambling on to Rachel like a dumbass. Put it down to nerves and still not quite knowing what the hell to do with himself, he guessed, and trying to ignore the handful of feathers Hope had a death grip on and didn't seem inclined to let go of any time soon. The other redhead in the room - the one that wasn't trying to get a second handful of feathers - was at least humoring his stupid ass. Or mostly. She was grinning and laughing and occasionally giving him a look that he didn't need to be a telepath to know probably meant something along the lines of 'you don't have a damned clue what you're doing, do you?'. Which was fair enough, since he sure as hell didn't. That had to be obvious enough, considering Hope had got that second handful of feathers she'd been after and Mimic decided that, hell, he could probably afford to lose a few. What the hell. Rachel seemed to have other ideas, though, as she looked over their way. And fuck if he couldn't see the bit that belonged to Summers at the edges of that one. “Hope? Stop that.” That sure as hell sounded like Summers, too, and it did the trick of getting the attention of the little girl hanging over his shoulder. Put a look on Hope's face, though, that had him frowning, tightening his grip on her a little more. Not exactly a hug, but...fuck, something. How the hell was he supposed to do this if it made her look like that? “thank you,” Rachel added, wearing a smile now that was all Jean. He'd miss that damned smile for the rest of his life. “You’re okay, Little Sis. Just remember the feathers need to stay in place on your Dad, yeah?” "S'okay, kiddo," Calvin added, one big hand stroking her back lightly and voice low and slightly gruff, but gentle as he could make it. She turned toward him, giving him the eye for half a second, before coming out with, “Fucker,” yet again. Ah, Jesus. With something between a laugh and a groan, Calvin shook his head, but at least managed not to facepalm this damned time. Yeah, Rachel was over there coughing to keep from laughing her ass off, but that was all right. He would get Forge back for this shit. "You sure you don't like Dad better?" he asked, half-way hopefully, half-way damned resignedly, since he knew damned well what the answer would probably be. “That’s between you and him, I guess,” Rachel told Hope with a serious nod and more damned composure than he'd probably have had in her place, “but it’s still a ‘no’ on tugging on the feathers.” Then sure as hell, it was like she was taking that as some kinda challenge almost, with that look on her face as she looked from him and back to Rachel, then right back to his wing. Hell yeah, she was his all right. Might scare the shit outta him, but he couldn't deny it. Not watching that look come over her. “No,” Rachel repeated firmly and that time Hope apparently let that idea go, at least for now, plopping down in his lap to poke at his chest instead. Slipping his arms around her, the winged man smiled down at her and she looked up at him with those blue eyes and that face he could see Jean in and smiled back a little, then went back to poking at him and tugging at the buttons on his shirt curiously. Jesus, she scared the hell outta him. Left a knot the size of Texas sitting in the middle of his chest because this was one damned thing in his life he couldn't afford to fuck up. “Summers Voice of Command - works every time,” Rachel Summers told him, reminding him he wasn't the damned only one in here, thank fuck. “Well, actually it’ll probably work most of the time till she’s about six or seven, and then you’ll have to figure something else out after that,” she admitted then, “but for now...” Letting out another soft snort, mingled amusement and skepticism, one busy brow lifted upward a little. "Then I'm screwed both ways," he replied with a rueful half-grin of his own, "Especially when it comes to picking out a Summers to try to channel." Sure as hell not One Eye, he might not be able to get the stick back outta his ass. Not Havok, either, though he wasn't as bad. Hell, that pretty much left Rachel herself, didn't it? Jesus Fuck, maybe he really was losing his mind if he was actually thinking about this. Rachel had trailed off, and dammit, yeah, she was a telepath, too, so she was probably getting shit from his damned head even he didn't wanna know about. Way she was watching him, though...yeah, there was something else she wanted to say. Just trying to come up with how. “It’s okay to tell her no,” she went with in the end. “Trust me on that.” His gaze dropped down again, right back to the little girl on his lap. Hope. His daughter. How the hell he was gonna figure all this shit out? "Yeah," he replied, voice low and brow furrowing slightly before letting out a soft, mirthless chuckle, looking back over to that other redhead. The one with Jean's smile and Jean's face, when the light hit her just right. "Never was much good at that with her mother, either," Calvin admitted with a self-deprecating lifting of his shoulders. Even when he damned well knew he should've been. That was how Hope got here in the first place. "But I'll work on it. Hell, I'll work on whatever I have to to figure all this out." Even if he didn't know what it all was yet, or even where the hell to start. But he would, for Hope and for Jean and for himself. Because the little girl in his lap deserved that. |
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| Marvel Girl | Jul 28 2013, 12:32 PM Post #17 |
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Needs her powers to dress herself
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Hope didn’t say much - and really, that probably wasn’t surprising - but if she wanted to stick with this whole ‘Fucker’ thing, then you had to figure it was probably between her and her Dad. Or her... ...yeah, okay, leaving that to little Sis, because it was too weird to even say in your own head. Given that Hope had totally ignored a second attempt from Mimic to tempt her back into using something more conventional to refer to him, Rachel was assuming she was pretty set on it, at least for the moment. Despite that first expression that had had Calvin looking worried, little Sis seemed to have taken okay to the Summers Voice of Command just fine. At least after the second time around, anyway, but that worked, because despite the hair and the face, Rachel might have had to doubt that Hope was any kind of relation at all if she hadn’t tried to test out new boundaries at least once. Still, the Voice had worked for the moment, like it did every time. Or - since she generally tried to go with honesty for most things - it would probably work most of the time for another two or three years, and then Mimic would have to find something else to get his daughter to listen. But for now, it ought to work. If the winged man’s snort was anything to go by though, he wasn’t feeling the confidence. "Then I'm screwed both ways," he replied with a rueful half-grin of his own, "Especially when it comes to picking out a Summers to try to channel." It was probably a good thing, on balance, that he didn’t seem keen on the idea of channelling Daddy, Rachel decided, cocking one eyebrow back in Mimic’s direction and smiling with a little reassurance. For a moment, she did wonder about letting him know that despite the name, that all-time champion at the Voice had actually been Grandma Grey, who’d still been able to pull it off even years after she’d realized that hugging Daddy and smiling at him, then quietly going on and getting back to doing whatever it had been you wanted to do anyway tended to avoid massive consequences. But even trying to imagine Calvin Rankin trying to channel Grandma Grey was enough to make even the sturdiest of psionically-endowed brains hurt, so Rachel left it alone. She should probably say something else, though. Something helpful, because whatever he’d been protesting to his friends about being okay, Mimic wasn’t exactly giving off vibes about being calm and confident about being able to do this. And while that wasn’t surprising at all either, it was a little surreal. Seeing it from this side of things at the same time as memories were dredging up from the back of her mind of being on the other side, of being that little girl sitting on her father’s lap while much the same thoughts must have been running through his mind. Weird. Really weird. And though she’d been hoping for years - even planning, sometimes - on getting to be her own fairy godmother, this was one of the parts of her life she’d kind of been set on not having to give advice on. Still, that wasn’t how it had worked, at least not here, and if it was a choice between wishing she didn’t have to be giving the advice and just getting on with giving it, well, then the telepath supposed there wasn’t really much of a choice at all. First off, letting Mimic know - or probably reminding him, out loud so he could hold on to it better, because he didn’t actually seem like an idiot - that it was okay to tell his kid ‘no’. Whatever she’d been through, whatever expressions she might give him, that wouldn’t break her. Calvin’s eyes dropped down to Hope, confusion and ‘gahness’ all threaded through his brain with an extra couple of helpings of ‘how the hell do I do this?’ for good measure. "Yeah," he replied, voice low and brow furrowing slightly before letting out a soft, mirthless chuckle, and looked back over her way. Thinking about Mom again when he did. Nothing much to do to help with that, though; not much to do about the fact she looked like her. "Never was much good at that with her mother, either," Calvin admitted with a self-deprecating lifting of his shoulders. Lips twisting into a crooked smile, Rachel shook her head and let it tip to one side as she looked back at him. “No one is, with Mom,” she pointed out. Maybe not even Grandma Grey. It was something she was fairly sure that she hadn’t inherited, and on the whole Rachel thought she fairly glad about that. As far as Hope went though, she was also pretty sure that Calvin would figure it out, and was about on the point of opening her mouth to tell him as much when he spoke again. "But I'll work on it. Hell, I'll work on whatever I have to to figure all this out." He meant it too, really meant it. That much was obvious, and probably still would have been even without telepathy. Cocking her head a little more to one side, Rachel watched him carefully for another moment, using her powers to get a general feeling of that resolve without pushing or prying too hard against it. “See, go into it with that perspective, I think you’ll probably be okay,” she told him in the end, then drew her legs up onto the seat of her chair, wrapping one arm around her knees to get a little more tucked up and comfortable before she continued. “I’ve been pretty much just where she is, you know.” Or probably he didn’t, because why would he? It wasn’t exactly high up on a list of things to know and learn about. Unless he thought she was referring to the other stuff again, and as that thought occurred to her, Rachel shook her head briefly, adding, “Not the stuff with Him. This part.” She nodded at the little girl sitting on his lap, smiling slightly when Hope seemed to realize and turned back from her minute inspection of Calvin’s shirt to glance over her way. “I wasn’t much older than Hope when Mom died,” Rachel explained. It had been different, of course. Only it hadn’t been, too. Especially not now, seeing it from the outside, and getting something like a view of what it must have been like for Daddy. But he’d done the best job in the world, and there didn’t have to be any reason that Calvin couldn’t too. “She’s going to need two things from you,” Rachel told the winged man then, leaning forward over her knees as she looked his way. “You ready to hear them?” |
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| Mimic | Jul 29 2013, 11:31 PM Post #18 |
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One Man X-Team
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Rachel seemed a whole hell of a lot more sure he could handle this Summers Voice thing than Calvin himself felt. Shit, he'd been a father all of about half a damned day and his four your old daughter was already calling him Fucker. That had to be some special kinda parenting fail, just right there. Who the hell knew what kind of mess he'd make with everything else? He knew she was right, though, and she was still sitting over there, one brow arched up and smiling in a way that held that note of reassurance. How his sorry ass had managed to end up with people like her, who didn't know him from Adam before today, and people like Forge and Clarice, Terry and Kara around to help prop him up and keep him from falling on his face first thing, the winged man didn't know. It sure as fuck wasn't his winning personality and saintly deeds. He was a bastard and he knew it, but he was glad they were there all the same and if he could figure out how the hell he'd lucked up that way, he'd make sure to do more of it. So he'd listen and he'd appreciate the help and somehow he'd learn to tell his daughter no, for her own good. Even when she looked at him with her mothers face and her mother's smile, and his own damned stubbornness Shining right back at him. Looking down at her, as she sat there on his lap and played with the buttons on his shirt, glancing up at him and giving him a quick look at that smile he'd just been thinking about, he couldn't help but think, though, that he never had been any damned good at that with Jeannie, either. Even when he should've been. And maybe that was another thing he'd always regret, that he could have saved Jean from that at least, even if he couldn't have saved her from the bastard that took her. Couldn't ever regret the little girl in his lap, though, even if he might regret the consequences that'd got her here. He knew that already. With a crooked smile at that, Rachel shook her head, canting it to one side as she looked back his way. “No one is, with Mom,” she pointed out and he couldn't help a brief chuckle at that. Hell, it was the truth, no use denying it. It had been as much a part of Jean as her red hair, or her telepathy. But he already knew Rachel was right and so he'd work on that with Hope. That, and whatever the hell else he needed to work on. It was a sure bet there'd be a lot, he already knew that, and he didn't have much in the way of examples to go by but, yeah, he'd figure it out. All of it. He could feel Rachel over there watching him, head still tilted to the side and thinking. Could feel that, even though the was making a conscious effort not to stick his proverbial mental nose where it didn't belong. If she wanted to poke around in his head, though, hell he didn't care. She was more than welcome, especially if she could drag anything outta his sorry ass excuse for a brain that might be useful. “See, go into it with that perspective, I think you’ll probably be okay,” she told and when he looked back over to her, fuck, she looked so much like Jean, sitting there with her knees drawn up and her arms wrapped around them that he couldn't have said anything just then if his life had depended on it. Jesus if that wasn't something. “I’ve been pretty much just where she is, you know.” Calvin frowned slightly, trying to figure out if that was something he actually did know. Yeah, he knew about the shit she'd been through in her own world, with her own version of the bastard, if that was what she meant... “Not the stuff with Him. This part.” Her head nodded toward Hope with a hint of a smile as Hope took her attention from his shirt back over to her sister. Well, fuck. No, he hadn't heard that part, but then there hadn't been any reason to. They sure as hell hadn't expected this when they went to take down those pens. “I wasn’t much older than Hope when Mom died,” Rachel explained and shit, if that was the case this sure as hell couldn't be easy for her, either. Aside from everything with the son of a bitch Ahab. “She’s going to need two things from you,” Rachel told the winged man then, leaning forward over her knees as she looked his way and he nodded, one arm wrapping around Hope and tugging her in a little closer. “You ready to hear them?” Calvin opened his mouth, expression sober, and got as far as, "Ready as I'll-" before something prickled, for lack of a better word, at the inside of his head. The hell? Frowning, he stretched out his telepathy to see if he could figure out what the fuck. His name. Somebody was thinking it about as damned loud as they could manage. Not Jean, because that'd been his first thought. The mental 'voice' wasn't right. Sure was hell wasn't Forge, Clarice, or Kara. So who the hell? Rogue, he realized, with a little - probably kinda clumsy - poking around. Frowning, he looked over at Rachel and shrugged. "Hang on, looks like something's up down at the strip club." *...Rogue?* he asked tentatively, and more than a little damned confused, wondering what the hell she could want with him and hoping to hell Forge's kids hadn't managed to disintegrate him or some damned shit when he'd gone down there to break up whatever the hell they were up to. That'd probably teach him to give them blasters for damned hands, but it might not do him a damned bit of good if he was a pile of ash on the floor. *Yeah, I hear you. What's up? You need me for something?* *Hate to bother you, Calvin,* Rogue started, sounding apologetic but not like anything was particularly wrong, so he let the damned bunched up muscles in his shoulder relax a little again, *just wanted to let you know Bobby Drake might be dropping by in a while. We told him, well...the main parts of what'd happened these last couple'a days. He wants to come by and check on you, if it wouldn't be no imposition.* Well, that sure as hell wasn't anything he'd expected and Calvin knew his eyebrows had probably shot up to his hairline. Drake? Drake was coming up to check on him? Holy fuck, he must been in a lot worse damned shape than he realized if Iceman thought he needed checking on. *Drake? Uh...yeah, sure. What the hell.* was about all the answer he had for that. Since, yeah, what the hell? If anything, he'd have thought somebody needed to be checking on Drake after seeing him at the strip club a few days ago. With that, he let the mental connection go, since Rogue didn't seem to have anything else to say. And he forced himself not to do a quiet check on Jean while he was at it. No such thing as 'quiet' enough she wouldn't notice, and no matter how damned worried he might be about her, the last damned thing she needed right now was him popping into her head. Probably the last damned thing he needed, too, for that matter. "Rogue says Drake's gonna drop by in a while," he told Rachel with a still perplexed shake of his head. "Says he wants to check on me." No, that still didn't sound like it oughta make any damned sense at all, even saying it loud, though for all he knew she might've heard the whole thing herself. And, hell, he guessed it was nice enough of Iceman to be worried? Concerned? Whatever it was. "So, yeah," Calvin continued, turning his hand over obediently as Hope tried to pry it up so that she could get to his palm, "hell, I'm ready to hear anything you wanna tell me. Two things or two hundred, I need all the help I can get." If he could do half as good raising Hope as Summers seemed to have done with Rachel (and there was a damned thought he never imagined he'd have), Calvin mused as Hope proceeded to lay the palm of one of her small hands down against his, apparently making some kinda comparison, then he figured they'd both be all right. |
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| Marvel Girl | Aug 4 2013, 01:08 PM Post #19 |
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Needs her powers to dress herself
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There were occasional times - not all that many, but occasionally - when Rachel Summers did temporarily regret her habit of never bothering to shut other people’s thoughts out of her head. Like now, when Mimic looked up at her, and didn’t say anything, but thought about Mom. It wasn’t that big of a jump from that to how he felt about her, or from that to how she’d felt about him here, and that... ...well, no one really liked to having to know that their parents weren’t always together for eternity across the span of the multiverse, did they? But that little uncomfortable itch at the back of her head if she let herself get too close to thinking about that set of particulars wasn’t nearly as important as Hope. Making sure that her little sister (if technically older by five years) was going to be happy and would get everything she needed, no matter whether her Dad wasn’t Daddy came first, and then maybe later, if she had time, Rachel figured she could try to think about the rest. Maybe. For now though, the telepath and sometime timestream and multiverse traveller was putting that matter firmly out of sight in her head, and focusing on explaining what she had to tell Mimic about what he needed to hear. She’d been there, after all. Right where Hope was, or at least close enough that the differences weren’t big enough to count. Not that he’d actually have any reason to have known that, she realized after having said as much. It hadn’t come up this morning, before the mission - there definitely hadn’t been any need then to explain about how Mom made a habit, all across the multiverse, of dying before she’d made it to thirty, and there wasn’t any need to explain anything more about that now, either. The point was that she had a pretty good idea about some of how it felt to be Hope right now (but not the Fucker thing. Definitely not that part.), and a very definite idea about the two things that her sister most needed from her father, whatever she might choose to call him. If Calvin Rankin was ready to hear them, anyway. He’d pulled Hope a little closer, hugged her a little tighter, which was even more promising than the serious expression and the nod he gave Rachel by way of a more direct answer. She had a feeling already, in fact, that what she had to say might not actually be something he hadn’t already picked up himself, but this was her baby sister, so that meant that you didn’t assume, you made sure. "Ready as I'll-" Mimic started, only to be interrupted by Rogue - of all people - projecting her thoughts out like a search beam, calling on him by name. Man, thought Rachel to herself, carefully dialling down the internal volume a touch on her own back of the head monitoring of what was going on at the party, the Southern woman definitely had a pair of mental lungs on her when she wanted. A second or so later, some of Calvin’s mental confusion seemed to ease off as he identified the originator of the voice, frowned, and shrugged over toward Rachel, "Hang on, looks like something's up down at the strip club." “Yup,” Rachel agreed with a simple nod, having heard it herself. As Calvin made an actual contact with Rogue, the red-haired telepath’s own gaze dropped down a little to the girl on his lap. If Hope had been aware of the mental foghorn, she wasn’t giving off any sign of it. Which was odd, because you would have thought she’d have been old enough now for the telepathy to have started to kick in, wouldn’t you? Still, there were all sorts of explanations for that, none of which needed much thought yet, so after watching her sister just long enough to be fairly sure she wasn’t hearing anyone’s thoughts, Rachel turned her attention back down to the strip club. Rogue wanted Calvin for something, or to let him know something, it sounded like, but nothing too serious, so the major important question was how Mom would be managing, if she’d overheard it too. Probably she had - she’d locked her mind down pretty tightly, as if she was trying to keep herself from overhearing anything more, but past that - maybe it was prying to check through shields, but Rachel had given up worrying too much about that a long long time ago, at least when the answers were important - she seemed to be hanging in there. Not without a struggle, and what felt like a little more wrestling with herself inside her head, but she was hanging in there. Content that Mom was as good as she was going to be in the near future, Rachel took another quick moment to check on Kitty and Pete - preparing to make their escape from both the party and an encounter with Uncle Bobby, apparently, and good for them - then on her new Little Bro - doing a pretty decent job, all things considered, of maintaining a lack of homicidal rage in his conversation partners this second time around, and good for him too - before pulling the main part of her attention back away from the Strip Club and back on Mimic. "Rogue says Drake's gonna drop by in a while," he told Rachel with a still perplexed shake of his head. "Says he wants to check on me." Rachel raised her eyebrows slightly, her own slight surprise at that having turned out to be the content of Rogue’s message magnified by the even more confused light the winged man seemed to be viewing it in, but she shrugged a second later, shifting her knees a little and picking out Hope with a jerk of her chin. “Or he wants to get on with playing at being Uncle Bobby,” she suggested. Whatever he’d been through here in this world, if there was anything left of him that was like the Uncle Bobby she remembered growing up with, he’d probably be here way before Calvin was expecting right now. “Mom would be glad about him doing that, I think,” she added, smiling a little thoughtfully, at her own memories, Mimic’s bemusement at the whole thing, and whatever it was that Hope was getting it in to her head to test out on him next. "So, yeah," Calvin continued, turning his hand over obediently as Hope tried to pry it up so that she could get to his palm, "hell, I'm ready to hear anything you wanna tell me. Two things or two hundred, I need all the help I can get." Leaning back into her chair, Rachel watched the two of them, keeping her thoughts to herself for a second before finally pointing out in a quiet voice, “Well, it looks like you’ll have People. Both of you.” She’d seen that much already, from the people who’d been in this room with him, though she couldn’t quite keep from hoping that Uncle Bobby might turn out to be one of them too, because it would be nice to think that she and her sister got to have at least one Person in common, growing up. “They’ll help as much as you let them, and you should let them,” Rachel added, a little more seriously now. “But you just became the single most important person in her life, and that’s not about knowing what you’re doing or being good or bad at it. It just is. So there’s two things she needs to be certain of when it comes to you, if she’s going to be happy.” The more she watched him, the more Rachel did think that she might not be telling Calvin Rankin anything he didn’t already know, even if maybe he didn’t know he knew it yet. But she didn’t think it would hurt to say it out loud, either, so she shrugged, tilted her head to one side, and kept on. “It’s not actually very complicated at all. What she needs to know is that you’re there, and that you’ll always be there, no matter what.” It wasn’t really possible, not forever, but if you didn’t find that out too early, you got to keep part of that certainty with you even after you learned that. “And that you’ll always do everything you can to keep her safe,” Rachel concluded, keeping her eyes fixed on Calvin’s. Maybe it sounded simple, and maybe it even sounded obvious, but then most really important things were self-evident, right? |
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| Mimic | Aug 6 2013, 09:23 PM Post #20 |
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One Man X-Team
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If Forge's damned kids doing...whatever kinda mess they'd got into down in the strip club wasn't enough, now there was Rogue projecting his name out like a damned bullhorn. Something else up down in the club. “Yup,” Rachel agreed with a simple nod since, hell no, she couldn't have missed that, either. Forge, the fucker, better not need his way-too-damed-amused-by-superglue ass bailed outta some godawful shit those teenagers had done while running amok. Though what the hell even that bunch could do that he couldn't handle, Calvin wasn't sure he wanted to know about, either. Not him, though. Drake of all damned people. Wanting to come up and...check on him. Well, that was a new one, and it might just mean he was in deeper shit than he'd even thought, but what the hell. No reason he couldn't stop by, the winged man guessed, if that's what he wanted to do. Broke of contact with Rogue and let Rachel know the walking snowcone was gonna drop by after while. That got about the same look from her Calvin figured had been on his own face, but then she shrugged it of and shifted around a little, jerking her chin toward Hope. “Or he wants to get on with playing at being Uncle Bobby,” she suggested and yeah, okay, the winged man decided with a chuckle and a smile that went soft at the edges again as he looked down at the little girl on his lap, that made a whole damned lot more sense, “Mom would be glad about him doing that, I think,” she added, and there was Jean's smile again, accompanying the thoughtful look on the older of the two redhead's in the room. And Jesus, he needed to fucking stop thinking about that all the damned time, too. Rachel didn't need whatever shit he might be projecting all over the place and it sure as hell didn't do him any good, either. Even if he couldn't help hoping that smile was something of her mother's that Hope would get, right along with that red hair. "Yeah, I think Jeannie'd like that, too," he agreed gruffly, looking back down to Hope again as she tried to fit her much smaller hand against his. God, she was small. How the fuck was he gonna manage all this and not break her or fuck it all up in all the ways only he could manage? So did he wanna hear whatever it was Rachel Summers could tell him about how to get through this without fucking it up, so he could give this little girl he still had trouble believing was actually his could have the kinda life and family she deserved? Hell yes he did. He'd take any damned thing she could tell him. Two things. Two hundred things. Two million. Didn't matter. She leaned back in her chair, watching them, and he had to stop himself from trying to see what kinda thoughts she was having that might be leaking over. Wasn't sure he wanted to. If she was sitting there thinking what a hopeless case he was. Sure as hell didn't need that confirmation. “Well, it looks like you’ll have People. Both of you.” Head coming up, the look he gave her was almost surprised. It was an automatic reaction before he caught himself, 'cause yeah. Yeah he guessed he did. Not something he was used to thinking about, that was for damned sure. Never really had before. Not before that fucking Camp and Forge, the fucker. Best damned friend he'd ever had. And there was Terry. Clarice and Kara, who for some damned reason took pity on a floundering asshole. Thank fuck for that, too. For all of them. “They’ll help as much as you let them, and you should let them,” Rachel added, a little more seriously now. “But you just became the single most important person in her life, and that’s not about knowing what you’re doing or being good or bad at it. It just is. So there’s two things she needs to be certain of when it comes to you, if she’s going to be happy.” Shit, and there he was, back to terrified as hell again, even as he nodded, briefly glancing down at Hope again as she turned his hand back over and tried to measure her own against it again that way. Most important person in her life. That sure as hell hadn't been anything he'd had much experience with before, but then she'd just become the most damned important thing in his life, too, hadn't she? So, alright, however this worked, whatever Rachel thought he needed to do to give her what she needed, he'd find a way to do it. Time he put the damned stubbornness he had so much of to good use and he did know how to do that. "There's something I sure as hell never thought I'd be to anybody," he told her, smile a little sardonic as he looked back over at her. "Whatever she needs, though, I'll find a way. Just tell me what it is." With a shrug, Rachel cocked her head a little. “It’s not actually very complicated at all. What she needs to know is that you’re there, and that you’ll always be there, no matter what.” Well, hell, hadn't really been expecting that, either, but he nodded all the same. It wasn't anything he wouldn't have done anyway. Wasn't sure he could do anything else. He might not've been able to do that with her mother, not the way he wanted to, but he'd damned well find a way to do it for Hope. “And that you’ll always do everything you can to keep her safe,” Rachel concluded, those green eyes on his in a way that told him she meant exactly what she said. Brows drawing together again, the big man nodded slowly, keeping her eyes on hers in return. "Sounds a little too easy," Calvin replied with a soft exhalation of briefly, that same sardonic smile there on his face briefly before fading away again. He shook his head, expression more grave. "But I know damned well it's not." His free hand lifted, palm running lightly over Hope's soft cap of hair as he looked down at her again. "I couldn't do it for Jean. Not like I wanted to," he began again, more quietly this time lifting his eyes back to the other telepath's again, "But I'll be damned if I won't do it for her. She's something I never thought I'd have. Come hell, I'll be there for her, for whatever she needs. Whenever she needs it. And god help anybody that tries to hurt her or tries to so much as lay a hand on her, 'cause that'll be the only help that'd do them any good." No, he couldn't do it for Jean, even though he'd have died trying, but this wasn't the Camp. As long as he was breathing, Hope would get whatever she needed to be happy, to have a good life. He wouldn't even consider anything else. |
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| Marvel Girl | Aug 12 2013, 12:23 PM Post #21 |
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Needs her powers to dress herself
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You might have thought a guy who’d had people sitting with him, watching out for him, for no other reason than to make sure he was doing okay, wouldn’t have been surprised to be told he had People. Especially if that guy was a telepath, but nevertheless, Mimic did look a little surprise, just about starting as he looked over at Rachel after she’d said the words out loud. Only for a moment, though, before something seemed to click behind the big man’s eyes, maybe relaxing him a little. Well that had been easy, at least. Daddy would have argued for at least fifteen minutes on the point, before pretending to give up in surrender while still secretly half-believing he was right. This way, Rachel had to admit, was kind of a lot quicker, and it meant she could just get on with pointing out what might not be quite as easy to get a head around. Having People was good, and they’d help, and that was even better, but when it came right down to it? The big thing here was that whatever he might think of himself, or how fitted he might have been for the job, Calvin Rankin was now the very most important person in her little sister’s life. That had him silent again, and briefly radiating a kind of terror that made Rachel momentarily glad that Hope seemed to be psionically deaf so far. But then Mimic looked down at the little girl in his lap as she played with one of his way oversized hands, and seemed to maybe calm down a little, tick over toward determined. Same way he’d been determined this morning, before the mission, only different, too, because there always was a difference when you were digging in stubbornly for something, rather than just because you didn’t know how to not keep going. "There's something I sure as hell never thought I'd be to anybody," he told her, smile a little sardonic as he looked back over at her. "Whatever she needs, though, I'll find a way. Just tell me what it is." Rachel held his gaze just a moment longer, before shrugging and telling him. Simply as she could, and it really was pretty simple, when you got right down to it. For Hope to know that he was there for her, and always would be, and that he’d be doing everything he could to keep her safe. "Sounds a little too easy," Calvin replied with a soft exhalation of briefly, that same sardonic smile there on his face briefly before fading away again, while Rachel kept her mouth firmly shut and her eyes on him. If he was making light of this, and missing the point - but she didn’t think he was, and a moment later [h]e shook his head, expression more grave. "But I know damned well it's not." “No,” the red-haired telepath agreed, picking through the words carefully with an expression that matched his for seriousness. “It’s simple, but that’s not the same as easy.” People got those two confused a lot, but really, it was only sometimes that they overlapped. Rachel shifted in her chair then, rearranging her knees into something a little more like comfortable as she watched Mimic stroking Hope’s hair. "I couldn't do it for Jean. Not like I wanted to," he began again, and abruptly Rachel found herself unable to keep her gaze on him, or even on Hope. She looked away toward the wall, and closed her mental eyes to him too for a second, not wanting to have to see his memories that went along with that idea. Her own were bad enough. The version of Mom who the Slavers had killed for daring to stand up to them. The teenager who’d died in her arms, stabbed by the Hellfire Club and still trying to get her to get herself away to safety. Neither of them had known who she was, and they’d... Rachel made her eyes turn back to Calvin’s, forcing those memories away. However much they might think it, they didn’t actually have a place here today, and anyway, the winged man was speaking again, about Hope, and right now, Hope was what mattered. "But I'll be damned if I won't do it for her. She's something I never thought I'd have. Come hell, I'll be there for her, for whatever she needs. Whenever she needs it. And god help anybody that tries to hurt her or tries to so much as lay a hand on her, 'cause that'll be the only help that'd do them any good." He meant it too. There was no bluster there, no added drama. Just the simple truth, the one that wasn’t easy. A brief impulse flitted across Rachel’s mind to point out that resolving on that wouldn’t make it true, but she knew Mimic knew that much already too. So instead she just looked back at him, and added, “And she needs to know it. A girl knows that about her Daddy, she can get through pretty much anything.” Maybe Hope wouldn’t have to put that to the test. Hope-fully not, as it were. But if she did, if it hadn’t all just been part and parcel of Summers Luck, then she’d need to have those two little pieces of certain knowledge to help get her through. Enough of that, though - her sister might apparently be about as mentally receptive as Brian at the moment, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t pick up on the dour turn things were taking, so Rachel pushed those thoughts aside too, and turned a smile down toward the little girl. “How’re you doing, Hope?” she asked. |
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| Mimic | Aug 16 2013, 12:14 AM Post #22 |
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One Man X-Team
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He had People. Who the hell would've ever imagined that? Sure as hell not him, but fuck if it wasn't true and right now he was glad as hell for them. He hadn't done much in his life to deserve them, but he'd be floundering without them right now. And maybe that wasn't any more than he'd earned in his life, but it was a hell'uva lot less than Hope deserved. She deserved everything he could give her. Everything he could do for her and maybe what Rachel was saying (and he guessed if anybody would know, it'd be her, since it sounded like she'd lived this herself) sounded too easy. Calvin damned well knew better, though, as the smile on his face slipped away, something entirely serious taking it's place. It might not be complicated, but that sure as hell didn't mean it would be easy. Nothing worth doing hardly ever was. “No,” the red-haired telepath agreed, picking through the words carefully with an expression that matched his for seriousness. “It’s simple, but that’s not the same as easy.” No. No, it wasn't but he didn't give a damn. Easy, hard, impossible. Didn't matter, the winged man decided as he looked down at his daughter - his daughter - hand stroking lightly over her copper colored hair. Maybe he couldn't do it for her mother. Not the way he wanted to, or the way he needed to. Or the way she'd needed him to. That was something he'd always carry with him. Right along with that vision of a beautiful, broken woman, encased in ice and glittering in the setting sun. But some way, some how, fuck if he wouldn't find a way to do it for Hope. Whatever came, whatever it cost him, whatever she needed or wanted, he'd do it. Be it. The little girl in his lap, sitting there and trying to measure her tiny little hands against his bigger ones was something he'd never thought he'd have. Not in his wildest imagination. No way in hell he was gonna lose that and god help anybody that tried to take it, because that'd be the only fucking help that would do them any good. Maybe that sounded ridiculous and melodramatic, but it was the truth as plain as he could put it. He wasn't invincible, but he'd put himself between Hope and anything that tried to hurt her until he didn't have an ounce of life left in him. “And she needs to know it. A girl knows that about her Daddy, she can get through pretty much anything.” Rachel was looking back at him when he lifted his eyes again and he knew she was speaking from experience. Didn't have to wonder or ask, it was there in her eyes and her face, even if she hadn't mentioned some've that experience already. Yeah, Summers might have a damned Sequoia stuck up his ass, but he'd done all right by his daughter. Gave Calvin himself hope that he could manage not to fuck it all up as much as anything else did. Half-smiling, the bearded man nodded. "I'll make sure she does. And, hell, if I don't, Forge or Clarice, or Kara'll kick my ass I'm pretty sure." He'd count on them to do just that, keep his ass in line if he started acting like a dumbass, or kick it until he got it back on track. With any luck, somehow they'd manage to break whatever fucked up cycle the universe seemed to insist on when it came to Jean and her daughters and that bastard that wouldn't ever bother anybody else in this world at least. If they could do that, if Hope could grow up happy, and healthy, and knowing she'd never be alone no matter what, then he figured he could count it a success. Then the older redhead in the room smiled that smile again, the one that she got from her mother, down at Hope. Who was still kinda comparing hands at various angles, but looking between the two've them now and then, too. “How’re you doing, Hope?” The little girl smiled back at her big sister and seemed to pause to think about it for a few seconds. "Okay," she told her amiably, then grinned and held out her arms again. "Want'a fly," she informed them as Calvin let out a chuckle, shaking his head. "You like that, huh?" he asked her as he very carefully lifted her up with his own TK, smile softening as she giggled. "Alright, then, over you go to your sister." With Hope still giggling, he lifted her over across the room and to Rachel. And wondered again how the hell he'd managed to get this damned lucky. |
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| Marvel Girl | Aug 19 2013, 05:11 PM Post #23 |
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Needs her powers to dress herself
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Two things. Simple, but not always easy - but those two things, if you knew them about your father? Yeah, a girl could get through pretty much anything, then. Mimic met her eyes as she said it, and Rachel had a feeling he’d caught enough to understand she really, really wasn’t just running off easy catchphrases here. He didn’t ask, but he looked like he understood, and also like the idea might have had him a little more comfortable again as he nodded, giving her something that was halfway to a smile. "I'll make sure she does. And, hell, if I don't, Forge or Clarice, or Kara'll kick my ass I'm pretty sure." Rachel snorted softly, nodding herself. From what she’d seen of those three today, there wasn’t much to doubt about that at all. They might not have been anyone she’d have ever thought of for extra People in her family, or really even people she’d ever thought of more than once or twice in her life, especially in the case of the two women, but they were going to be People for Mimic and for Hope, that much was clear already. And... yeah, okay. Conversation sort of stalled in matters of the dour, which - while kinda unavoidable - looked like it hadn’t failed to escape her little sister’s notice either. Hope was glancing up at her father, and over at her, too, and deciding that now was as good a time as any to take a break away from that stuff, Rachel grinned at her sister, and asked her how she was doing. This seemed to require careful consideration from Hope, but it did raise a smile again, so that didn’t seem much like cause for concern. "Okay," she told her amiably, then grinned and held out her arms again. "Want'a fly," she informed them as Calvin let out a chuckle, shaking his head, and Rachel’s own grin grew even broader. See, her half-sister might already be fixing up in some weird choices where it came to things like picking names to use for her Daddy, but she still had good taste on the really important matters, like flying. "You like that, huh?" [her dad] asked her as he very carefully lifted her up with his own TK, smile softening as she giggled. "Alright, then, over you go to your sister." The short flight had Hope giggling all the way over, and as she plucked her out of the air at the end, Rachel couldn’t resist adding to that with a little extra tickling. Only a little though, then she paused, giving Hope time to catch her breath and get her balance back, settling down on her lap once again. “Pretty much the best, isn’t it?” Rachel asked, and this question was answered with a wide smile and a very solemn nod. Yup, definitely good taste there from her sister, because flying? Definitely one of the best things ever, no matter how you were doing it. Hope was silent again, but after another couple of seconds, Rachel found her own hand being gently tugged and held up against one tiny one for comparison, just as her sister had been doing with Mimic just a little while before. “Not quite as big as your Dad’s, no,” the telepath told the little girl with an amused smile that she looked over to Mimic himself with for a second, raising her eyebrows slightly. “Mommy?” Hope didn’t sound worried, or upset, precisely, but there was an almost plaintive note in her sister’s query that had Rachel’s smile fading a little. She kept her eyes on Calvin for another second before looking down at her sister, and gently squeezing her shoulder, and the hand that was held against her own. “She’s can’t be here right now, Hope,” Rachel said gently, “But I’ll make sure you get to meet her soon.” Or... okay, hurried second thoughts there, because she’d kind of just totally overstepped her purview, even as Fairy Godsister and Knower of Things, and Rachel looked back over quickly toward Mimic, giving him an apologetic look. *Fuck. Sorry - that’s if it’s okay with you, anyway. Your call,* she sent silently to him. If he’d rather not go there, for whatever reason - not complicating things for Hope, not exposing her (or himself) to the only half-stable tangled mess of person that Mom was right now, or whatever else - that kinda was up to him. |
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| Mimic | Aug 22 2013, 12:58 PM Post #24 |
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One Man X-Team
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One thing he could probably count on was Forge, or Clarice or Kara, kicking his damned ass if dropped the ball on this. Hell, he was counting on it. Still had that feeling he didn't have a fucking clue what he was getting himself into here, but that hadn't ever stopped him before. Couldn't let it stop him now. Not when it actually mattered for once and wasn't just him running off with wild hair up his ass. Rachel let out a snort and followed it with a nod of agreement and that half-smile tugged up a little higher. Yeah, he was a lot more damned lucky than he deserved there and thank god for it. Not for his sake, though he sure as hell wouldn't be complaining, but for the sake of the little girl sitting in his lap, telling her sister she was okay. Then telling him with a grin that melted his damned heart that she wanted to fly. How the hell could he say no to that? At least he was pretty sure that was one've those things he didn't need to say no to, so he picked her up just as carefully as he could, sending her sailing through the air - arms stretched out and laughing - over to Rachel. Easy thing to do to make her that happy. Have her giggling all the way across the distance until Rachel took over, plucking her outta the air and adding some tickling to the bargain. Watching that, something settled in his chest. Heavy, but not bad. Just...Jesus he still couldn't believe it was all real. Wasn't hard to imagine Jean, sitting where Rachel was sitting, doing exactly what she was doing. She might not be able to be here, but he was glad Rachel could be. Standing in for her in a way, even knowing she was here for her own reasons, too. That felt right. “Pretty much the best, isn’t it?” Rachel asked and Hope answered with a broad smile and a nod that was way too damned serious for a four year old and holy fuck. His daughter. How was he ever supposed to get over the surprise of that? Leaning back in his chair, Calvin just watched the two've them for a minute as Hope took Rachel's hand, just like she had his, holding her smaller one up to as she seemed to consider how all that worked. He wondered what she was thinking, that little girl, and hell he could've just looked and found out, but...something stopped him from doing that. Not right now. Didn't feel right. “Not quite as big as your Dad’s, no,” the older redhead looked his way, brows inching up a little and with an amused smiled. Calvin let out a chuckle of his own at that, holding up one large hand. "Yeah, I kinda got the market cornered on that," he agreed amiably, then went stock still as Hope suddenly added, “Mommy?” Any amusement drained right outta his expression, that weight in his chest replaced by a hole, ragged and raw as he looked back over at Rachel. Jesus, what the hell did he say to that? How did he answer that one word question in any kinda way that Hope would understand. Hell, he wasn't sure he understood it all himself. Rachel looked down to the little girl in her lap, though, squeezing her shoulder and her hand. “She’s can’t be here right now, Hope,” Rachel said gently, “But I’ll make sure you get to meet her soon.” It was a hell'uva lot better answer than he could've ever come up with, but he couldn't help but wonder if it was a promise even Rachel could keep. Dark brows drew together as he tried to work out the hows and whys and ifs of the whole damned mess, forcing his thoughts away from the woman that was both Hope's mother and wasn't. Who was the wife of somebody else and who'd already had to give too damned much of herself for this. Fuck. *Fuck. Sorry - that’s if it’s okay with you, anyway. Your call,* head lifting from his own contemplations, Calvin found her sending him an apologetic look, but hell. There wasn't any reason for that. He just...fuck, he didn't know what the hell to do here. *Yeah. No..no it's alright,* he assured her, waving away the apology and trying to get his own damned head together again and stop all the shit swirling around in there from rattling around so much he couldn't think. *Can she do it?* he asked, frowning expression turning toward concern more than thought now. Rachel would know more than he would, he was sure as hell of that, *I...fuck, I don't know.* Heaving a heavy breath, the winged man scrubbed a hand over his face, thinking. Or trying to think. Damned shit was so fucking complicated, but then that was life wasn't it? How the hell did he know what to do that would be best for all of them? For Hope, for Jean? He didn't wanna do more harm than good, not to either of them. Dark eyes settled on Hope for a long moment as he tried to force an answer to come. Didn't work worth a damn, but watching that little girl...hell, didn't she deserve what she could have of her mother? Some memories other than just the ones he could give her of his own? Some that were real and alive? If it wouldn't do more damage to Jean in the process? *Yeah,* he finally sent, looking back up at Rachel, certainty growing as he thought it over a little more, *Yeah, it's okay with me, if it won't cause Jean any more problems than she's already stuck with.* He couldn't ask any more of that from her, not even for Hope. But if she could do it... *It's all Hope'll ever really be able to have of her mother,* Calvin finished with another nod, meeting the redhead's eyes. *No damned way I can say no to that if there's a way to make it happen.* Wouldn't be easy for him, either, but he told himself firmly that he could do it. He would do it, easy or not. He'd do it for Hope, because she was the one that mattered here. |
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| Marvel Girl | Aug 28 2013, 09:02 PM Post #25 |
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Needs her powers to dress herself
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Funny how much one word could change the feeling of a room, wasn’t it? Not that it was just any word, the one Hope had asked. Not an easy word, or a simple word - or at least not now, or here, or for any of them, even though it still was that, too. Big and complicated and little and important, all at once. Mommy. Fuck. Two syllables to freeze the amusement right off Mimic’s face, and most of the rest of him in the bargain too, it looked like. He was looking back to her - and to Hope, but mostly to her - and Rachel knew, without him having to ask, that she was going to need to be the one finding an answer for her sister right now. Which wasn’t all that hard - or rather, wasn’t all that complicated - because Rachel had already been thinking about this exact question, and what to do about it, for nearly as long as she’d known that against all the odds (and how she’d beaten those odds was still a lingering question, somewhere in the back of her mind, but she wouldn’t think about that yet) Hope was somehow still alive. Mom couldn’t be here right now - that was true for on a whole big set of levels - but her little sister would get to meet her soon. She’d promise that. Though only after she’d done it, Rachel realized that it was the kind of promise that maybe she shouldn’t have just gone and put right out there. Not when Hope’s father most definitely had veto rights over something like that, because... yeah. He’d gone pretty extra silent over there, and Mom, right now? Well, she wasn’t exactly everyone’s ideal of a stable person who you wouldn’t mind introducing your very young child to, as she was right now. Or possibly even technically Hope’s mother, except you’d only think like that if you didn’t know family, or especially if you didn’t know Mom. Her telepathic apology for the overstep seemed to catch the big winged man off guard though, as he looked up from whatever darker place his thoughts had gone to meet her gaze. *Yeah. No..no it's alright,* he assured her, displaying a word fail on a level that pretty much rivaled her own, but seeming like he wasn’t bothered by the presumption at least. Thinking hard about all of it though, and she couldn’t wonder at that. It was a big question, and probably a lot more complicated from where he was coming from it, compared to her own starting point. *Can she do it?* he asked after a second, and though he was still frowning, now it was more like... worry. For Mom’s sake, as much as Hope’s, and that was surprising. Or was it? That was... well, never mind if it was or it wasn’t, she could think about that later, and answer the question as it was right now. *She can.* Rachel sent back simply, eyes on him, but in the meantime drawing slow circles and spirals with one of her hands in the air, for Hope to track with her own hand. Their very own wax-on, wax-off game, and it seemed like for now, it was enough to keep Hope amused. *She owes me,* she added, a second later. For that day on the cliffs, after Scrapper had died for the second time. For ‘I don’t have a daughter’, and for the way she’d turned her back, buried her head on Dad’s shoulder, and made him tell her to just leave them both alone. Mom owed her, and if she had to, she would call in that debt for Hope, no hesitation. Her little sister was not going to have to get that. *I...fuck, I don't know.* Still thinking, then. That much was obvious, as the big man let out all his breath at once, and scrubbed at his face with one hand, questions and thoughts buzzing heavily through his brain. Not for himself, though, and did that surprise her? Rachel wasn’t sure if it did or not, but either way, it was Hope, and Mom too, that were the things that were concerning him. *Yeah,* he finally sent, looking back up at Rachel, certainty growing as he thought it over a little more,*Yeah, it's okay with me, if it won't cause Jean any more problems than she's already stuck with.* Rachel nodded slowly, meeting his eyes with an understanding but not offering an opinion (not just yet, anyway) about what she thought were the odds of that going one way or the other. He was worried for her, and yes, she’d decided that was maybe a little surprising, but it was welcome all the same, but first he needed to make the decision just for Hope, and for him, and then they could work it out from there. *It's all Hope'll ever really be able to have of her mother,* Calvin finished with another nod, meeting the redhead's eyes. *No damned way I can say no to that if there's a way to make it happen.* Rachel watched him again, and waited another moment to make sure that that resolve she was feeling from his mind was going to last, but she already kind of knew that it would. *It’s what she wants too, if it helps,* she sent back honestly, taking a moment to glance back down at Hope. The game of follow-the-hand seemed like it might finally be paling, and maybe the little girl’s curiosity-powered energy was finally starting to flag, because she accepted Rachel’s invitation of opened arms almost immediately, proceeding to curl up and snuggle in for a quiet cuddle without protest. *I don’t know what it’ll do to her, or... to anyone, but she wants to, so...* Rachel continued, lifting her gaze back off her sister, back to Calvin’s, so he’d know exactly how serious about what she was about to say here. *If I have to, I’ll put the pieces back together after. But Hope gets that much. I’ll make sure of that.* Because Mom owed her that. Mom owed her this, and it was something she wouldn’t even hesitate to call in for her new little sister, then deal with the consequences after. |
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| Mimic | Aug 29 2013, 07:09 PM Post #26 |
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One Man X-Team
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Shit. Just head first into the hard stuff, he guessed, but it was what it was. At least some damned body'd had an answer for Hope to that one word question that felt a little like it'd made his heart stop dead in his tracks. Fuck. Just...fuck. What the hell should he do? For Hope, for Jean that wasn't his Jean but was at least carrying around pieces of her in her head and was having a hell'uva time with it. No damned surprise there and... Could he even ask her to do something like that? Could she do it if he did? *She can.* Rachel answered, sounding a hell of a lot more sure, and like she knew what she was doing, than Calvin could manage to feel. Alright, so she could do it. He trusted the girl that was Jean's daughter, too, to know what she was talking about. Still, that took him back to another question: Did he have any damned right in the world to ask her to do it? Part of him said hell no. Another part looked over at Hope and wondered how the hell he could do anything else when his daughter wanted her mother. When Jean Grey Summers was the closest thing she'd ever get to that mother. *She owes me,* Rachel added and the winged man looked back up at her, brows knitting in not exactly a scowl. Too much of surprise and question there for that, but what was that all about? Jean owed her? It was a strange thing to say, maybe, but he didn't ask and he didn't try to look. Family shit, probably, and he knew damned well how mixed up and messed up that could be sometimes. Like right now, he reminded himself somewhat sardonically and with a exhalation of breath, hand running over his face. How did he make this decision? How did he know the right call here? The best thing for Hope, without breaking the woman who'd played a big part in her even being here with him now in the process. A look over at his daughter again, sitting there on her interdimensional sister's lap and playing some made up game with their hands, though... Yeah. How the hell could he do anything else? It was the only thing Hope'd likely ever have of her mother, aside from his own memories. What he could give her of those, and he would when she was older, but it wasn't the same as memories of her own. Even fuzzy ones from when she was this young. Not the same as having what little time with her mother that she could. Didn't wanna cause Jean any more damned problems than she had already because of this, and he knew Rachel understood that as she met his eyes, nodded. Seemed to look through him, almost, and yeah. He knew where she got that from. But he didn't change his mind and he didn't back pedal. Might as well get used to making the hard damned decisions now. Maybe he might be some damned good at it by the time Hope was old enough to drive. *It’s what she wants too, if it helps,* she sent back honestly and that helped at least a little of the tension clear outta his shoulders and from the damned mess in his head as she looked down at Hope again as she gave up on the hand thing in favor of just snuggling down into her lap. Jesus, it scared the hell outta him that she was his, but he already couldn't even imagine her not being there. It felt like somebody ripping a fresh hole in his chest to even think about it. *I don’t know what it’ll do to her, or... to anyone, but she wants to, so...* Taking another breath, lips drawn thin and tight, but setting aside the automatic worry (and the protest that'd tried to start up again), Calvin just nodded. If she wanted to...hell, they'd been over this already. He hadn't been any good at telling her no, or stopping her from doing what she wanted then. He was pretty sure he wouldn't do any better with this one. *So there's probably not a whole lotta stopping her anyway,* he agreed, mouth quirking up wryly as he leaned forward, forearms braced on his thighs, just above his knees. It wouldn't be the easiest thing he'd ever done, either. But it was for Hope, and that's all that really mattered. *If I have to, I’ll put the pieces back together after. But Hope gets that much. I’ll make sure of that.* Rachel Summers, daughter of Scott Summers and Jean Grey from yet a whole other place, looked over at him again and Calvin let out the breath he'd drawn in. Quieter this time as he nodded again. Fuck, but he didn't like the sound of that. Hated the thought of doing that to her, no matter what she owed this grown up daughter from that other place. He'd seen enough of Jean, any Jean, breaking under the strain she'd never asked for for the rest of his entire life and any others he might have later on. But there was Hope and when he looked at her again...hell, it didn't really matter so much, did it? Not for him, not even for Jean if she could stand it at all. Hope. She was what mattered. *If she wants to, then I want her to. I can handle it and I think Hope needs it.* And, in the end, it was maybe one really important thing he could give her, or that he could let Jean give her. If all of them had to pick up pieces after, it'd still damned well be worth it. |
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| Marvel Girl | Sep 2 2013, 08:12 PM Post #27 |
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Needs her powers to dress herself
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By the looks of it, and the mental feel too, Mimic didn’t much like the owing comment. Maybe not exactly enough to actually be angry over it, since he didn’t know where it had come from and knew that he didn’t, but... yeah. Didn’t much like it, all the same. Rachel decided that she couldn’t blame him for that. In fact, it was probably more like the other thing. The opposite of blaming, which was probably a word that was long outside her vocabulary, if it had ever been in there in the first place. Maybe she could have skipped over saying it out loud (or out head-loud, which in this case was definitely the same thing), but it was the bottom line, and if Mimic was not a person she’d ever thought she’d be teaming up with over decisions about Family, that was what he was now, and so she was going to do it honestly. Cards on the table, as it were - though really, it was more like a game of chess. Which she’d never done a good job of learning, much to Daddy’s disappointment, but later on, it turned out she’d picked up enough to understand some things. Like if you were going to get to the ultimate goal, sometimes you had to be willing to risk everything, even your Queen. Anyway, like it or not, he let it go unquestioned and she didn’t have to explain that, returning to thinking over his own thoughts about this decision that was, in the end, his to make, one way or another. Thinking, when Mimic did it, seemed to be accompanied by a lot of rubbing at his face and his head, but when she watched the thoughts form and reform, at least he was thinking about it the way he should be: seriously, and with concern for the people who mattered. Especially Hope, and Hope? She was the bottom line here, and when he came to his decision, that seemed to be the same place Calvin Rankin had come to, also. Okay with him - if it wouldn’t cause Mom too many problems - because it was what Hope needed, and it was pretty much all she ever had a chance of getting. Scratch pretty much, in fact, and they both knew it. Cards on the table, or bishops and knights doing... whatever the fuck it was they did, because it had been a long time she’d thought too much about remembering that. Which meant, once she’d watched the bearded, winged man long enough to be sure he wasn’t about to change his mind, that Rachel could put the last one, the - fuck, could you have castles up your sleeve in chess? - piece of information she hadn’t wanted weighing in on a decision that needed to be his and his alone. Mom wanted to meet Hope too. Enough to scare herself, in fact, or maybe that was just fear of whether she could hold herself together enough to do it, or maybe it was guilt about what Dad might think that wanting meant, or maybe it was some of all of the above, but it was there. No telling if she really could do it without breaking herself, but she wanted to. So... *So there's probably not a whole lotta stopping her anyway,* he agreed, with a half smile that probably wasn’t really humorous, under the circumstances, but which had Rachel joining in with one of her own all the same as the big man leaned over his knees, thinking thoughts that she decided (for once in her life) to treat as private. *Not without risking breaking her just as badly,* she sent instead, before another pieces on the board moment presented itself. Mom might still not come through this all in one piece, with all the will and wanting to in the world, but the bottom line here was Hope. She’d get what she needed, and after that, if she needed to, Rachel would do her best to put Mom back together again. Maybe she could have skipped that too, and Calvin Rankin didn’t like hearing it much either, but she was starting to get a sense for him now. He might not like it, but he could look reality in the face and not like it and still do what he had to, and that was what he did. *If she wants to, then I want her to. I can handle it and I think Hope needs it.* “Okay,” Rachel said aloud, nodding again and shooting a quick glance down to the little girl who’d curled up in her lap as she added, “Tomorrow, maybe.” Not tonight. Too many things had gone down today, for all three of them. A night, a little sleep, a little distance from today would probably be best if this was going to count like it needed to. The look she’d snuck revealed Hope to be looking up at her, and then across at her father, eyeing them both with a silent mix of something that wasn’t quite suspicion, and wasn’t quite curiosity, and wasn’t quite confusion, but might have had pieces of all of those mixed together. All in all, it was pretty much the cutest thing ever, and Rachel couldn’t help but grin (inappropriately as it might have been), and hug her sister a little tighter. “Yup, that’s what people talking inside their heads looks like, Little Sis,” she explained, leaning down a little so that she could lower her voice into a confidential stage-whisper. “Here’s a tip, if you get powers kicking in and you start to overhear them when they do? Don’t tell anyone for a little while. You’ll learn all sorts of things parents and uncles and aunts don’t want you to learn, and those are usually some of the best things to know.” She winked at her sister then, before straightening up and glancing back at Mimic, still smiling a little, as she added, “That’s advice that’s protected by big sister-little sister privilege, so your Dad has to forget he heard me say it, and you’re allowed to blame me when they catch you doing it.” “Make sense?” Rachel asked her sister, and had to chuckle a little at the expression of even more confusion that she got for her trouble. “Don’t worry, it will.” After all, it was advice she’d gotten herself when she was Hope’s age, from the very first best friend she’d ever had, and though it had eventually earned a lot of lectures and the extraction of a promise to try not to take advice from Val in the future, it had definitely been worth it. |
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| Mimic | Sep 4 2013, 08:06 PM Post #28 |
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One Man X-Team
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Jean wanted to do it. Wanted to see the little girl who wasn't hers, but who was hers, all the same. Well, who the hell was he to try to stop her? Was there even any point of trying? *Not without risking breaking her just as badly,* Rachel sent to him and the bearded man nodded. Yeah. There was that, too, and he appreciated her being straight with him. Even when it put him in a position he didn't much like, he'd still rather know than not. So wouldn't do him a damned bit of good anyway, or Jeannie either, to try to stop it. And hell he wanted her to. He could handle it. Wouldn't be easy, but he knew he could. He hoped to fuck Jean could (or that Rachel could put her back together like she said, though fuck if he liked that idea at all, regardless), when it was all said and done, and Hope needed it. The only time she'd ever really have with her mother. Not the Hound they'd made of her, but what was left of the woman who was her mother. The woman that should've been able to be her mother. “Okay,” Rachel said aloud, nodding again and shooting a quick glance down to the little girl who’d curled up in her lap as she added, “Tomorrow, maybe.” Arms still braced on his knees, the winged man nodded, mustering a smile for his daughter. "Tomorrow. Yeah," he agreed, the outward sound of their voices almost strange after doing all that in their heads. Damned if he'd ever completely get used to all that. "Tomorrow'll be fine." There'd already been enough today and he wasn't sure he could stay in one piece if it kept piling on. He'd do what he had to do, what he needed to do, but a night and maybe a little sleep before that would damned well be welcome. Hope was giving them some kinda look, back and forth between him and Rachel. A look that was some kinda mix between dubious, curious, and confused. It had his smile going a little wider as he looked over at her as Rachel grinned and hugged the little girl that was his daughter and her sister. Yeah. Fuck. He hoped to hell Summers knew what he had and was even halfway smart enough to appreciate it. “Yup, that’s what people talking inside their heads looks like, Little Sis,” she explained, leaning down a little so that she could lower her voice into a confidential stage-whisper. “Here’s a tip, if you get powers kicking in and you start to overhear them when they do? Don’t tell anyone for a little while. You’ll learn all sorts of things parents and uncles and aunts don’t want you to learn, and those are usually some of the best things to know.” She winked at her sister then, before straightening up and glancing back at Mimic, who could've sworn all the blood drained outta his face and his eyes were probably wide enough to make him look like an idiot. Oh shit, he hadn't even thought about powers. Or, hell, he had but not for more than half a second before he got more concerned about what the hell that bastard might've done to Hope. “That’s advice that’s protected by big sister-little sister privilege, so your Dad has to forget he heard me say it, and you’re allowed to blame me when they catch you doing it.” Despite the new whirlwind flying around in his head now (aw, dammit, what if she ended up with powers now? what the hell would he do with a super-powered toddler?), Calvin let out a surprised snort of laughter. “Make sense?” Rachel asked her sister, and had to chuckle a little at the expression of even more confusion that she got for her trouble. “Don’t worry, it will.” "And probably way too damned soon," Calvin interjected, chuckling a the look of total fucking confusion on Hope's face. Which was probably a good thing for him until he got a handle on this fatherhood thing. Or at least it stopped scaring him shitless every time he stopped to think about it. "I can promise to forget all that pretty easy, though," the winged man added with a bemused smile, "Hell, give me a week and I'll probably do good to remember my own name." Hope was looking between them again, little forehead wrinkled like she was trying to figure out what the hell they were going on about. It was about the cutest damned thing he'd ever seen. But then she started looking around the room and that frown she was wearing deepened a little. Looking up to Rachel, she poked her lightly in the arm, maybe to get her attention though it wasn't likely she hadn't had that already. "Bear?" she asked her big sister, looking around the room for it again. Bear? The hell? Though he guessed it was better than Fucker... "Oh, hey, you want that stuffed animal thing they sent up with you from the infirmary, huh?" he asked after another moment and a sudden realization. Damn, he'd forgot all about that thing since they got upstairs. "Any idea where she left it?" Calvin added to Rachel, scanning the room for any sign of it. "I know she had it when we came in." Not spotting it off hand, he pushed himself out of his chair, looking over at his daughter. "Hang on, Hope, we'll find it." Looked more like a squirrel or a rabbit or something to him, but what the hell did he know. If she thought it was a bear, it was a bear. |
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| Marvel Girl | Sep 9 2013, 06:42 PM Post #29 |
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Needs her powers to dress herself
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Tomorrow, for meeting Mom. Tonight for hugging the crap out of her baby sister for the absolutely adorable confused look she had going there, and starting on sharing the important bits of big sister wisdom that she’d been storing up for as many years as she could remember. Like leaving it a while if your telepathy happened to kick in before anyone noticed, in order to learn all the interesting things about parents and uncles and aunts that you’d never get a chance to otherwise. That one came from Val, which might have had something to do with the confused look that Hope was wearing afterward, and almost certainly had something to do with the way Mimic had gone all corpse pale over on the other side of the room, which Rachel noted with a bright bright grin over in his direction. Or maybe that was just at the idea of powers at all, which it seemed like he might have forgotten about till she’d mentioned it. Understandable, but yeah. Really, given the kind of crazy power he and Mom were packing between them, it was almost weirder that Hope didn’t seem like she had any powers at all yet, but all in all, that might be a good thing, at least for the moment. Step at a time, on the sneak attack four year old daughter surprise present front, and powers were probably one of those steps best left till a little later. Or something. In any case, despite the fact that Hope clearly had even less idea what she was talking about now than she had when they were making with the telepathy earlier, Rachel kept going, on the off chance that something about what she was saying would stick in there now and prove useful later. Like Dads being obliged to forget they’d heard any of this, and big sisters always being convenient places to put the blame. If Hope didn’t find it making sense now (and it looked like she didn’t, though at least it had broken through her father’s panic enough to get him laughing, or at least snorting), she would later on. "And probably way too damned soon," Calvin interjected, chuckling good-naturedly. "I can promise to forget all that pretty easy, though," the winged man added with a bemused smile, "Hell, give me a week and I'll probably do good to remember my own name." “It’s Fucker, apparently,” Rachel told him helpfully, smiling at him for a second before her gaze went back to the generally much cuter sigh of Hope, frowning in another round of confusion. Right up until she actually started looking like she was frowning outright anyway, and looking intently every which way around the room, a quest which was followed up in short order with a gentle poke in Rachel’s arm by one very small finger, and a query of “Bear?” Frowning obediently as she tried to puzzle this out without telepathy (way harder than it ought to have been, but kind of fun now and again), Rachel drew her eyebrows down, then wiggled them upward again. “New name for your Dad already, Sis?” she asked, though it didn’t get an answer from her sister, so much as a return to visibly searching the room with that same worried frown. But... well, it did beat Fucker, and apart from the wings, you could see how you might get the idea. Mimic certainly wouldn’t make a very good rhinoceros either, which was a thought which inevitably gave Rachel just a little pang for Slim the stuffed rhinoceros, who Hope probably would have liked even if her father wasn’t one, but... ...oh yeah, Rachel realized, at around the same moment the matching confused look disappeared from Mimic’s face. "Oh, hey, you want that stuffed animal thing they sent up with you from the infirmary, huh?" he asked after another moment and a sudden realization. The stuffed bear thing. Or gopher thing. Or whatever that thing the healers had found for Hope actually was. “Bear,” Hope confirmed with another solemn nod, looking expectantly between the two of them. So a bear it was, or a bear it would be, as soon as they could find it again. Maybe not a total cake walk though, since the first glance Rachel sent around the room didn’t reveal any more signs of the bear than Hope had found. "Any idea where she left it?" Calvin added to Rachel, scanning the room for any sign of it. The telepath shook her head in answer, as he added, "I know she had it when we came in." Not spotting it off hand, he pushed himself out of his chair, looking over at his daughter. "Hang on, Hope, we'll find it." “You put it somewhere safe, Hope?” Rachel asked her sister. Another nod met this question, but after Rachel’s next question, “You remember where?” there was only a quickly falling face that had the older redhead hugging her sister a little tighter, and assuring her “doesn’t matter, we’ll find him.” “Her,” Hope corrected, while Rachel picked her up and rose to her own feet, then for good measure added a little TK into the mix and set her sister to floating in the air again. “You keep an eye out from up there, while we do this bear hunt thing,” Rachel told her. “Let us know if you spot hi- her, okay?” Kind of tempting, actually, to just turn all the furniture to floating upside down and see if it fell out. But maybe they wouldn’t give Calvin’s daughter too many ideas just yet for the room he still had to live in for a while. Yeah. Maybe. |
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| Mimic | Sep 11 2013, 11:06 PM Post #30 |
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One Man X-Team
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Alright. That was settled and...fuck. He'd worry about the details - all the feelings, the wondering how the fuck, exactly, he'd deal with it, even though he damned well knew he would - later. Right now, he was watching his daughter and her sister from another world conspire to give him a whole shitload of grey hair in the future, but that was all right, too. Grey hair or not, he liked the idea of a future. One where Hope could grow up, have as decent a life as he could possibly manage to give her. As normal a one, if there was such a thing as normal in this bunch, but it'd be fine. There were worse people to be around, damned sure worse ways to live. There'd be a future and he'd do every damned thing in his power to make sure of it. He'd do it for Hope, and for Jean. Hell, he'd even forget all that not-so-private whispering over there. Wasn't a hard promise, since he was pretty sure if Rachel gave him a week, he wouldn't even be able to remember his own damned name. “It’s Fucker, apparently,” Rachel told him helpfully, smiling at him as he let out a short bark of laughter. Jesus, he was doomed as hell. Not in small part because of that sigh coming outta a definitely still confused Hope that made him just wanna hug the living hell out of her. Cutest damned thing in the universe. Had to be. But then she was frowning for real, looking around like she'd lost something important. Something that turned out to be a bear. Yeah, that wasn't exactly anything he'd expected her to ask for and Calvin's eyebrows were winging around his head probably a lot like Rachel's were doing as she tried to figure it out, too, apparently. “New name for your Dad already, Sis?” she asked and Mimic let out a groan, sending her a mildly sour look. Though it wasn't anywhere near a serious one. "Don't put ideas in her head," he told her, then rethought that a second later and added, "But, hell, I guess it's better than Fucker." Forge, the fucker. He was gonna get his ass for that. Just wait. Then it dawned on him, yeah pretty damned slowly but there it was, that Hope might mean that stuffed thing she'd brought up from the infirmary. Hell, he wasn't sure if it was a bear or a pig or what, but if she wanted it to be a bear, then bear it was. “Bear,” Hope confirmed with another solemn nod,looking between him and Rachel with the obvious expectation that they'd find it for her, where ever it'd got to. Guess that settled that, and if she wanted that stuffed bear thing, then hell. He'd find it if he had to turn the whole damned thing upside down. She'd had it when they came in, but then she'd laid it down somewhere to poke around the room. Where the hell he didn't have a clue. Nowhere he could see with a cursory look around, but maybe Rachel remembered. “You put it somewhere safe, Hope?” Rachel asked her sister. Another nod met this question, but after Rachel’s next question, “You remember where?” there was only a quickly falling face that had the older redhead hugging her and Calvin wishing he had some damned reality warping powers or something so he could just pull one out of thin air if he had to. Whatever it took to get her smiling again, “doesn’t matter, we’ll find him.” Damned right they would. Calvin was already outta his chair, trying to look in likely corners and places it might've been dropped. “Her,” Hope corrected, and Calvin couldn't help but chuckle. Yeah, her. Of course. Then Rachel was on her feet and Hope was floating around in the air again, “You keep an eye out from up there, while we do this bear hunt thing,” Rachel told her. “Let us know if you spot hi- her, okay?” "Okay," Hope agreed with another nod, head turning this way and that as she did her aerial reconnaissance. Jesus, that was cute as hell. "Now why didn't I think of that?" he asked rhetorically and with a one sided smile, pulling up the sofa cushions to look under them. No damned luck there. "Did you put it in the bedroom, Hope?" Holding onto a sofa cushion, he glanced up to see her giving her had a very serious shake. "Uh-uh," she told him, then went back to craning her neck to look all around the room. "All right, gotta be in here somewhere, then." He hoped. What the hell they'd do if she'd flushed it down the toilet when they weren't looking he didn't know. "Lemme look behind the sofa." Using his own TK, just because it was easier, he lifted the piece of furniture a couple of inches and slid it out. "Bear?" Hope called out hopefully, trying to lean over and look behind the sofa. "Bear! Where'd you go?" Leaning over the back enough to see, Calvin shook his head over at his daughter and gave her an apologetic look. "Not there, Hope, but we're still looking." Glancing to Rachel, he shrugged, shoved the sofa back and moved over to the chair. Damned thing had to be here somewhere and by god, they were gonna find it. |
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3:33 AM Jul 11