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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 (672 Views) | |
| Mimic | Jan 28 2014, 07:49 PM Post #76 |
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One Man X-Team
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Damned if he didn't hope Rachel was right, as she gestured toward Drake. It was probably more luck than he deserved if all the things he didn't have a damned clue about or where to start with did manage to come together, but he was halfway counting on it anyway. For Hope's sake, not his. He'd figure it out, though. He'd damned well make a point of figuring it out, however he had to do that, including checking with Rasputin or whoever else might be albe to figure out what the little girl calling him...well, sure as hell not Dad but he guessed something that was close enough needed. Clothes, toys, pajamas. Hell, if it hadn't been for Rachel, Hope'd probably be wearing one've his shirts for pajamas right now. Not a damned clue what he was doing here and that wasn't exactly a secret. "Like you ever have?" Bobby pointed out, smirking and Calvin flipped him the bird again, shooting him a sour look in the process. Yeah, laugh while the hell he could. The older of the two redheads was shaking her head, though, sending a grin between him and Drake before turning toward him and waving it off. “Nah, Clarice and Kara would have insisted on one of Forge’s instead,” she pointed out. “No wing holes.” Ah, Jesus. Letting out a snort of laughter he couldn't help, the winged man shook his head bemusement. "Hell, you're probably right there." "I can ask her the next time I see her," Drake offered, he assumed about Rasputin. Yeah, right, she was friends with Pryde, who wasn't dead anymore. Drake would probably see her before he would the way things had been going. "If she agrees, I'll send her your way and you can place orders or whatever." "Thanks," Calvin agreed with a nod, reaching down to scoop up a yawning, tired Hope who was reaching up for him. Melted his heart into a puddle as she snuggled in against him trustingly, still half-babbling at Forge's head. That wouldn't last too long, though, he didn't think. She was practically drooping already. Time to say good night to Uncle Icedork. Which she did, with a sleepy little, 'bye, and then reaching over to give his arm a pat. Damned good thing he had a good grip on her, but she seemed to trust that he wouldn't let her fall and he'd do every fucking thing in his power to make sure that was true. "G'night, Hope," he said softly, reaching over to pat hers in return. "See you tomorrow." Rachel said her own goodbyes, putting Drake in charge of not letting Storm embarrass himself too much. Too damned late for that by years, if you asked him, but what the hell did he know? "And who's going to save me from embarrassing myself with mine?" he shot back with a grin, but nodded. "I'll do my best to drown him out, though, promise." Calvin chuckled softly. "Don't think there's much help for either one of you," he opined as Drake turned back his way smile slipping off his face and giving his shoulder an unexpected squeeze. "You'll do fine," he said sincerely, then jerked his head towards Hope and offered a smile that was a little more reassuring. "You are already." Glancing over at his daughter, the winged man smiled a little himself. "Here's hoping you're right," he told the other man, adding on a, "'Night, Drake," as the former X-Men headed out into the hall and Calvin pushed the door back closed behind him. "Done poking," Hope informed Rachel tiredly, yawning and rubbing at her eye again with one hand, before looking back to him and tacking on, "Sleepy, Fucker." Yeah. Jesus, that was too damned cute. Messed up, but damned cute. "Yeah, it's been a long day," he told her, giving her a little squeeze before turning back and walking over to Rachel with a thoughtful frown. "We can put her in my bed for tonight? Figure something else out tomorrow?" She was too damned old for a crib, wasn't she? Or..shit, damned if he knew that either. |
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| Marvel Girl | Jan 30 2014, 01:30 AM Post #77 |
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Needs her powers to dress herself
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You could kind of see it already, couldn’t you? Hope was going to have the only R-rated edition of ‘Goodnight Moon’ in the world before too long, starting with ‘Goodnight Icedork’. "G'night, Hope," [Uncle Bobby said softly, reaching over to pat hers in return. "See you tomorrow." Rachel threw her own goodbyes on top of that, along with a request not to let Uncle Johnny embarrass himself too much down there with his singing. ‘Too much’ being the operative there, but Uncle Bobby understood that, obviously. "And who's going to save me from embarassing myself with mine?" he shot back with a grin, but nodded. "I'll do my best to drown him out, though, promise." “That’ll do,” the telepath agreed with a grin, while Mimic was chuckling, and casting doubts on the idea that either of them could still be helped at all, but Uncle Bobby had taken a turn toward something more serious, reaching toward the winged man’s shoulder to single him out for another goodbye squeeze. "You'll do fine," he said sincerely, then jerked his head towards Hope and offered a smile that was a little more reassuring. "You are already." Mimic looked to Hope, and then he smiled too - how could anyone not, looking at her snuggled in there against his shoulder, still murmuring to herself, one hand holding her bear, the other her father. "Here's hoping you're right," he told the other man, adding on a, "'Night, Drake," as the former X-Men headed out into the hall and Calvin pushed the door back closed behind him. Rachel rose from her own chair then, smiling across the room at her sister and her father and the picture they made. "Done poking," Hope informed Rachel tiredly, yawning and rubbing at her eye again with one hand, before looking back to him and tacking on, "Sleepy, Fucker." Yeah, there was that broadcasting code defying vocabulary again. “Goodnight, Uncle Asshat,” Rachel supplied with a wry grin of her own, sending the same words to Forge as she let that telepathic connection finally fade out entirely, leaving the inventor with the image of what she was seeing, Rankin and his daughter and the smile on the big man’s face. Asshat or no, he’d want to see that, to know that his friend really was doing alright. "Yeah, it's been a long day," Calvin assured his daughter, or possibly himself, then looked over at Rachel, like he’d been struck by a thought he wasn’t yet too certain of, heading back over toward her. "We can put her in my bed for tonight? Figure something else out tomorrow?" Rachel nodded, reaching over to gently smooth away an imaginary wrinkle in Hope’s hood when they neared. “Yeah, I think that’s good.” She’d done it herself, or something close to it, and she remembered that. Waking up, and seeing the glint of ruby quartz reflecting the nightlight in the old armchair where Daddy had been sitting through the nights after Mommy had died. Had he ever slept those first weeks? She’d never thought about that. But she remembered waking up and knowing that he was there, at least, and thinking of that, her expression turning inward till she caught herself enough to focus on Mimic again, Rachel added, “Just stay close, so you’ll be right there if she wakes up in the middle of the night.” Let her learn that that was something she could rely on, and the rest would be things they could figure out together, and with all the others, Forge and Kara and Clarice and Bobby to give them whatever help they might need. Which, come to think of it, reminded her of another important Aunt who could add to that tribe. “You should talk to Ororo, when you get a chance,” Rachel suggested to Calvin, while making a gentle nudging gesture to encourage him to move toward the bedroom. “She’s Mom’s best friend, she’ll want to do what she can to help you and Hope.” That she could say without a shadow of a doubt, even without having met the Aunt Ro of this world. They weren’t that different from either of her own, after all. Well, not in some things. In others... well, in others the differences might be just what Mimic could use right now. “I hear she has a couple of her own over here too, so she’ll know what you guys will need,” Rachel added with a slight smile. She might know - or at least trust her own intuition - a little more than the winged man about what a four year old girl might need, but he’d probably be better to trust Ro’s ability with lists and planning than her tangled memories and reasoning that might pass for logic (in a good light), all things considered. |
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| Mimic | Feb 2 2014, 03:13 PM Post #78 |
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One Man X-Team
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Drake was out the door and Hope was apparently done poking around in Forge's head. Just as well, since whatever the Fucker had got there at the last probably hadn't made any sense at all anyway. It'd made Hope happy, though, and Calvin had an idea the Cheyenne man wouldn't mind all that much when that was the case. God knew, he didn't much mind whatever the little girl resting against his shoulder wanted right now, no matter what she was calling him as she informed him she was sleepy. Would've pulled the moon down for her if he could've and she'd have wanted it. “Goodnight, Uncle Asshat,” came from a wryly grinning Rachel as she signed off in Forge's head. Yeah, it'd been a long day. He was surprised Hope hadn't conked out hours ago, but he guessed all the excitement had kept her up. Fuck knew, it would probably keep him up for a while yet. Months wouldn't surprise him. Hell'uva hard thing to believe this little girl had just been here half a day. Then again, hell, he was still in enough shock it could've been five minutes, too. Didn't have shit in the way of being ready for anything like this, in just about any way. Shit. Including a place for her to sleep. Too late to try to figure out something else tonight, though. She was tired now and no reason they couldn't just put her in his bed for now. Sometime tomorrow was time enough to figure that out. Or, hell, maybe the next day, considering what they had going on tomorrow. There was a hell'uve lot more to this than he'd ever thought about. Rachel nodded, though, seeming to think that wasn't the stupidest idea she'd ever heard at least. “Yeah, I think that’s good.” It was a damned relief, since he was groping in the dark here. “Just stay close, so you’ll be right there if she wakes up in the middle of the night.” Nodding slowly, Calvin turned his head to look at his daughter as her sister reached up to smooth a wrinkle or two outta her hood. Four wasn't a baby, and he knew that. Knew that maybe too damned well. But she looked so little. "Yeah, hell, I don't think I'd be able to do anything else, anyway." Sure as hell couldn't stand to leave her in a strange room by herself, that was for sure. Wasn't sure he'd be able to let her outta his sight right now. Just in case she disappeared like smoke. Like the illusion he still half expected her to be and had ever since they'd found her in son'uva bitches pens. “You should talk to Ororo, when you get a chance,” Rachel suggested nudging him and it took a half second longer than it probably should've to figure out why. Yeah, get his ass to the bedroom so Hope could go to sleep. “She’s Mom’s best friend, she’ll want to do what she can to help you and Hope.” Spurring himself into motion, Calvin shook his head at himself as he moved from one room to the other. "Shit, why didn't I think of that? I hope somebody's at least told her about Hope by now." Jeanne, she'd want that. Would want Ororo to know. He sure as hell didn't know the woman to speak of that'd married the King of Wakanda and was an honest to god Queen now, but he knew she was close to Jean. Like a sister. “I hear she has a couple of her own over here too, so she’ll know what you guys will need,” Rachel added with a slight smile and Mimic met it with a halfway wry one of his own as he crossed into the bedroom. "Thank fuck somebody does. How the hell does anybody keep up with it all?" Right now, it was sure as hell a puzzle to him. Clothes, shoes, places to sleep, toys, books. He felt like his brain might leak out his damned ears if he tried to stuff anything else in there, but somehow he doubted there'd be a lotta choice. "I'll track her down sometime tomorrow, though. Once, well, all this shit's hopefully over." Another thing to think about, but right now he sure as hell didn't have the attention to give to whatever the hell they might be walking into tomorrow, and maybe that was a good thing. "'Roro?" Hope asked sleepily, lifting her head to give him a curious look. "Aunt Ororo," he told her, pronouncing it slowly and with a nod and thinkging fuck she hadn't decided to call her Oreo or something. Pretty damned sure that wouldn't go over well when you were talking about the Queen of Wakanda. "Or should that be Your Majesty, Aunt Ororo?" the winged man asked, turning a semblence of grin toward Rachel. "Damned if I know how that works with royalty." Who the hell knew what Hope would turn that into, so he was guessing they'd probably better stick with the basics, regardless. |
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| Marvel Girl | Feb 5 2014, 11:34 PM Post #79 |
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Needs her powers to dress herself
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Putting Hope in his own bed for the night? Yeah, no reason to think that would be a bad idea. Maybe even a few to think it would be a good one, at least if Mimic was going to be there close by, in case she woke in the middle of the night. The winged man nodded, looking at her little sister, and then he answered Rachel’s thought. "Yeah, hell, I don't think I'd be able to do anything else, anyway." Which was as it should be, by the laws of dads and daughters and the important days in a lifetime, though the redhead’s smile when she looked his way wasn’t more than quiet. There was a lot there that was unspoken, hanging just out of reach in the air behind them, but that was okay too. That was the way it was. Also in the category of the way things just were, though far more easy to give words to, since thinking about the growing tribe of people who were going to be there, offering their help to her sister’s dad along the way reminded Rachel of another extremely important addition to that list, even as she was trying to semi-subtly prod the winged man toward the bedroom. That being Aunt Ro, who should definitely be talked as soon as he got a chance, being not only Mom’s best friend, but... well, Aunt Ro. She’d want to do what she could to help. There was head-shaking then (and more importantly, there was movement in the direction of the bedroom door, but also head-shaking), and that was getting somewhere. "Shit, why didn't I think of that? I hope somebody's at least told her about Hope by now." Stepping by him through the doorway, Rachel couldn’t help but quirk one eyebrow up at him as she went by and into the room. “In this sort of place?” she asked rhetorically, shaking her own head very briefly, “I wouldn’t worry too much.” Especially not when Ororo was married to the Black Panther, who seemed to be like the one she dimly remembered from the parts of her own childhood spent at the Baxter Building, as a man who made it his business to always know everything, just to say that he could. Kinda weird to think about him as Aunt Ro’s husband, but then if the word on the universe’s street was right here, there wasn’t just a husband, but two princesses too, and that inevitably meant two things to Rachel Summers, one to wonder about and one to be pretty sure of. First was who would turn out to be more fired by glee and scheming by that little tidbit once things had settled out and they’d all gotten back home: Mom or Kitty. Secondly, and far more important just now (not to mention less full of weird and the need to hope that somehow they could just all go back home and have nothing more for Mom to worry about than how to get their own Ororo into the married and with future princesses category) - princesses meant that Ororo was probably in a better position than most people here to help Calvin Rankin with just the simple business of figuring out what he needed. "Thank fuck somebody does. How the hell does anybody keep up with it all?" asked Mimic, as he followed into the bedroom, provoking another brief grin out of Rachel in spite of herself. “They usually come with a few months warning,” she pointed out, softening that potentially awkward point with a little more of a smile, then tilting her head to consider the matter a little more seriously. Somewhat more seriously, anyway. “And books. I think there’s probably books.” Or just lifting the knowledge out of someone’s head via telepathy, but... yeah, maybe she’d leave that suggestion back on the table, for now, since Mimic already kind of had a look about him like he suspected his own brain of trying to overwhelm him. "I'll track her down sometime tomorrow, though. Once, well, all this shit's hopefully over," he managed, though, and that Rachel found another smile for. Once all this shit’s over... now there was something that she and Kate had never really managed to make a plan for. But then, this place? It wasn’t like the universe she’d grown up in. There were a whole lot more than two women left mourning the loss of everyone they’d ever cared about, for one. And maybe even a plan that was better than ‘just do your best and hope that you can blow it all to hell and take them with you’. Yeah. Maybe there would be an over tomorrow, for Hope and Mimic and everyone here. She’d be doing her part to help give them that shot at what came next. "'Roro?" Hope roused herself for long enough to ask, weighing in on the conversation with an inquisitive (if very sleepy) look. "Aunt Ororo," her father explained with careful enunciation, "Or should that be Your Majesty, Aunt Ororo?" the winged man asked, turning a semblence of grin toward Rachel. "Damned if I know how that works with royalty." “Pretty sure family get a pass on the title,” the telepath supplied immediately, before thought (and some fuzzy, and mostly faded memories of T’Challa Udaku) belatedly intruded long enough to double-think on that one, prompting a slight amendment which Rachel added with a wrinkle of her nose, “Maybe.” Either way, it was probably one of those questions for another time, so Rachel left it with a slight shake of her head, and made the last couple of steps toward the bed, folding back one side of the covers and messing with the pillow a little. “Alright, Hope. Bed time for bears,” she proclaimed with another smile, gesturing for Mimic to set the little girl down if he was ready. “Another big day’s coming tomorrow.” First day of the rest of your life. Hopefully that would be a much better one than she’d gotten so far, too. As good a one as people could make for her. |
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| Mimic | Feb 9 2014, 11:18 PM Post #80 |
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One Man X-Team
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Ororo. Yeah, Rachel was right, she'd know what the hell to do, all the crap he'd need that he hadn't even started to think of. Jesus, had anybody even told her about Hope yet? Somebody would've, right? Shit. Rachel stepped into the room, cocking an eyebrow his way. “In this sort of place?” she asked rhetorically, shaking her own head very briefly, “I wouldn’t worry too much.” Yeah, she was probably right about that, too, and Mimic let out a long breath that didn't do a damned thing for the tension trying to make itself at home in his shoulders again. Thank fuck one've them had half an idea where the hell to start with all this stuff he hadn't even so much as gave a thought to since they'd brought Hope back. Hell, about all he'd been able to fit in his head was that. Hope. His daughter. The one that, just yesterday, he'd thought died four years ago. Here and alive and leaning on his shoulder, eyes nearly closed and still clutching that damned bear with one hand. How the hell he was gonna manage this, he still didn't know. All he knew was that he'd find a way, somehow or other. How the hell did people do all this? It seemed like a damned mountain right now. A mountain written fucking Chinese or something. “They usually come with a few months warning,” [Rachel] pointed out, and he kinda smiled again then. Point, he guessed, but it still felt like he was pretty fucking clueless here. “And books. I think there’s probably books.” "Oh, shit, yeah. Books," Mimic repeated, probably sounding like she'd just handed him the holy grail or something. But shit. He should've thought of that, too. Had to be somewhere they could get books from on this stuff. He put that on his mental list that he'd probably forget again ten minutes from now. Tomorrow, though. Tomorrow, once all this shit was over (yeah, he was gonna think that was happening because he didn't have any damned choice), he'd get all this going. Track down Ororo - or Queen Ororo? Calvin put finding out how what the hell to even call her on that mental list - find books on what to do with little kids. Something there, he thought it might've resonated with Rachel. Watched her for a second and recognized that look in her eyes. That smile on her face. Memories. Good or bad, it was hard to say and he wasn't gonna look. None of his business but some've this at least had to remind her of where she was from. What he knew about it, and it probably wasn't nearly all, it couldn't help but do that in some ways, probably. Hell, just knowing there was a place it'd got that bad was all the more reason to put an end to this shit tomorrow. Once and for all. He sure as hell wanted a better world than this for Hope. Hope, who was apparently still awake enough to latch onto this new name they were passing back and forth and even he had enough common sense to know he'd probably better get Hope calling the Queen of Wakanda something other than Fucker or Asshat or fuck knew what else she might come up with off the bat. Aunt Ororo oughta work he guessed or, hell, were you supposed to add some formal, royal shit in front of that? Damned if he had any idea how that worked. “Pretty sure family get a pass on the title,” the telepath supplied immediately, and he almost had a whole ten seconds or so of relief before she wrinkled her nose and added, “Maybe.” "Ah, hell, maybe Wagner or Pryde'll know." They'd have to know better than he would anyway. Hell, Forge might know, but how the hell would he go about asking the Fucker what he thought his ex, the fucking queen of another country, might wanna be called? Another thing for tomorrow, though, and he carried Hope on over to the bed as Rachel turned the covers back and fluffed up the pillow. “Alright, Hope. Bed time for bears,” she proclaimed with another smile, gesturing for Mimic to set the little girl down if he was ready. “Another big day’s coming tomorrow.” A damned understatement if there ever was and the winged man smiled at the little girl in his arms like a sap again, but fuck it. Gave her a gentle squeeze and she hugged him right back, bouncing that bear off the side of his head in the process. So damned little she was hardly there, or that's what it felt like. Not easy to let go of her, but she pulled back with another yawn and droopy little blue eyes and Calvin made himself do it. Leaned down and put her in the middle of that bed that looked like it might swallow her. She was little. Tiny little slip of a thing, all red hair and sleepy blue eyes and he ran one palm lightly over that soft hair. "'Night, Hope," he told her, "Time to go to sleep." She nodded and curled up around her bear, looking from him to Rachel and back again. Then let go another yawn. "Night, night, Fucker," she mumbled, already sounding half asleep as he straightened up, pulled the covers up a little, then wondered if she'd be too hot, or maybe cold, and kinda hovered helplessly. Then managed to move himself outta the way so Rachel could say her good nights. "I'll just drag this chair over a little closer," he told her in a whisper. No damned idea why, but whispering seemed like what he oughta be doing so he did it. He'd slept in something a whole lot less comfortable than that for a damned long time, he could sleep in it, right here, as long as Hope needed him to. |
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| Marvel Girl | Feb 14 2014, 05:06 PM Post #81 |
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Needs her powers to dress herself
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Yeah, Kitty and Kurt here might know about the rules about Your Majesty, if anyone but did, but ah well. Wakandan royal protocol and other questions about what to call Ororo being all definitely squarely in the category of things that could be shelved until tomorrow, in Rachel’s book, it was bedtime for bears, and for Hopes, and with that in mind, the redhaired telepath headed onward in the bedroom and set to setting the bed to rights for small sleepy girls and their new best friends. Another big day was coming for her little sister tomorrow. And for all of them too, one that’d hopefully be the start of better things, just like that hug her dad was giving her felt like a guarantee of the start of better things for Hope. A dad to hug her, one that didn’t seem like he was quite ready to let her go, or she him. Though maybe Bear was registering a protest about being left out of the middle of the hug sandwich there. In the end though, Mimic did lay Hope down, stroking her hair as the two of them shared a look. 'Night, Hope," he told her, "Time to go to sleep." Hope nodded, tightening her arms around Bear and snuggling down further. "Night, night, Fucker," she mumbled in answer, and in what was probably going to be a rare moment of obedience, looked halfway to following her father’s suggestion by the time he finished tucking in the covers around her, and retucking them again, then drew aside a step so that Rachel could join him at the bedside. “Goodnight, Hope,” she told her new little sister, and leaned in to drop a kiss on her forehead, like she could still half-remember Mom doing for her once upon a time, and by the time that was done, Hope was already well on the way to fast asleep. "I'll just drag this chair over a little closer," [Calvin] told her in a whisper, as Rachel straightened, sounding like he was nearly as unsure about that as a lot of other things. “Yeah,” Rachel agreed softly, with a quick smile. She reached over and placed one hand on his shoulder, squeezing briefly, then let him go, and turned her gaze back toward her sister. “She’s okay, though,” she assured him, or maybe it was for herself, too. “I don’t know how or why she is, after that place, but she is.” A little quiet, a little more uncertain of strangers than maybe most four year olds might be, but she was okay, and without seeing it for yourself, would you have believed it? It wasn’t a bad sort of miracle, but it definitely did seem to be one, now when you came to stop and think about it. |
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| Mimic | Feb 18 2014, 01:07 AM Post #82 |
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One Man X-Team
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Jesus, he couldn't stop looking at her. In fact, he was pretty sure he could've just stood there the rest've the night, watching her sleep. Making sure she didn't vanish because this was some kinda damned delusion. One that scared the hell outta him. Who the hell was he to be responsible for another human being? One that'd depend on him like nobody else ever had and, shit, he had a hard enough time taking care of his self. He'd do it, though. Figure it out however he had to, because as much as Hope scared him, he already couldn't imagine her not being here. So he told her good night, watched her snuggle down in the bed as she called him that damned name it looked like he was stuck with now (not that he cared, she could call him whatever the hell she wanted), covered her up and then moved over so she could get her good nights in with her big sister. While they did that, he'd just drag the chair over closer, he guessed, feeling like he needed to whisper and not really knowing why. Did it anyway, though, and sorta half-assed hovered there, like where to put the chair was some kinda major decision. Fuck, yeah. He was gonna need some practice with all this. “Yeah,” Rachel agreed softly, with a quick smile. She reached over and placed one hand on his shoulder, squeezing briefly, then let him go, and turned her gaze back toward her sister. “She’s okay, though,” she assured him, or maybe it was for herself, too. “I don’t know how or why she is, after that place, but she is.” Lifting the chair, Calvin relocated it next to the bed, standing there with one hand resting on the top of it and looking over at his daughter. She was okay. Hell, if anyone would know, it'd be Rachel. She'd been through this shit. What Jean went through, or something like it. Managed to come out the other side, which was a damned miracle as far as he was concerned. Hope, yeah, she was a miracle, too. "Me, either, but I'm sure as hell not complaining," he agreed quietly, still watching the little girl in the bed, her eyes drooping as she started to drift off. "Maybe he was waiting for her to get a little older," the winged man theorized, though that didn't seem like what they knew of that bastard, "see what kinda powers she ended up with." If she had any, but he was betting Ahab thought she'd be a telepath, like her mother. "Or..shit, I don't have a clue," the winged man admitted, looking over at the redhead, "Doesn't make any sense, but whatever it was, I'm gonna be thankful for it every single damned day." For his sake, because he knew damned well she'd probably saved him in a whole lotta ways. For Jean's sake, because it meant that there was a part of her still here and always would be. And most of all for Hope's sake, because if anybody deserved a miracle like that, it was that little girl. |
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| Marvel Girl | Feb 20 2014, 12:00 AM Post #83 |
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Needs her powers to dress herself
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Hope was okay. Untouched by that place - or near enough to untouched that considering what it was, who had had her raised there, it was the same thing. How it was that she was okay, why she was okay, Rachel couldn’t really understand, but it was true. Barring a little lingering need to reassure Calvin of that - or maybe just to reassure herself of it - by saying it out loud, anyway. The winged man moved his chair closer to the bed, resting one hand on the covers, not far from Hope before answering. Yeah, still coming to terms with that idea himself, wasn’t he? Like all the rest of it. A good thing... but still, every time she looked at her sister now, already nearly fast asleep, it sat stranger. "Me, either, but I'm sure as hell not complaining," [Mimic] agreed quietly, his eyes on Hope as her thoughts drifted away into dreams. "Maybe he was waiting for her to get a little older," the winged man theorized, while Rachel pursed her lips, trying to make that idea fit back in her head, like it had earlier, "see what kinda powers she ended up with." “Maybe.” Only why would he do that, she asked herself. Why not have a cleaner slate for his experiments? For implementing his ideas? What cleaner slate could there be but a little girl? His very own tabula rasa- -why did the memory of the hour she’d spent getting the Doc to repeat that phrase, just to hear his accent, have to stick in the front of her mind just now? "Or..shit, I don't have a clue," the winged man admitted, looking over at the redhead, "Doesn't make any sense, but whatever it was, I'm gonna be thankful for it every single damned day." Rachel made her eyes move to meet his, nodding once before her gaze drifted back to Hope again. “Yeah,” she agreed, still half-preoccupied. “Maybe...” He’d lied to Mom, of course, letting her believe in that deal. Two separate experiments. He’d needed that deal to break Mom and make her his forever. That calculus was simple enough. Could he have wanted to make it up to her daughter? Would there still have been enough of him left, inside Him? No. She dismissed that thought quickly. Just a wish to make things simpler. But why had He looked at her like that today, at the end? Like a glimmer of recognition. Oh. “Maybe I already know,” Rachel said quietly, tone and expression sober. Determined. “I’m going to find out, though.” Or to ensure things happened like they had to, though she didn’t say that as she shrugged her shoulders back, jaw set firmly, but eyes softening a little as they turned back to Hope, then her father. “You’re okay here?” she asked him. “You start freaking out, you’ll call Forge, or Clarice or someone?” Technically she could go at any time, of course. But Calvin Rankin probably needed time to his thoughts and his silence and his daughter right now as much as anyone in any world ever had, and if she was going to do this... ...well, better it was done quickly, before she’d had time to think too hard about it. |
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| Mimic | Feb 23 2014, 02:58 PM Post #84 |
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One Man X-Team
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Why had that bastard basically left her alone? Yeah, hell, that was a question that'd been sitting in the back of his mind, too. One he hadn't had the time, of much real interest if he admitted it, in taking out and looking over. Not too close, anyway. Because Calvin damned well knew if he did, he'd start wondering if there was something they'd missed. The healers, the telepaths, even Rachel. Was there something that son'uva bitch had done to Hope that they hadn't found yet? Something just waiting to spring up when they least expected it? Stupid as hell and he knew it. The healers had gone over her with a fine tooth comb and Rachel was the damned Phoenix and she sure as hell knew what to look for. Even that bastard couldn't have managed something they couldn't find. So he was trying not to think about it too much, sure as hell wasn't complaining and trying to come up with reasons in his head Ahab wouldn't have done fuck knew what with Hope by now. Maybe he was waiting for her to get older. Maybe he wanted to see what kinda powers she had. Probably counting her to be a telepath, but who the hell knew? Didn't surprise him that the set of Rachel's expression said she didn't much think either of that was very damned likely, either. “Maybe.” she said all the same, probably not wanting to send him into some goddamned panic by pointing out how much that sounded like bullshit. But, hell, he didn't have a clue and he didn't mind admitting it as he looked back over to her. Didn't make any damned sense to him, whatever the reason, but he was gonna be damned glad for it all the same. Every single damned day. Because it meant he got to raise his daughter and she got a shot at something at least resembling a normal life. Those green eyes that were so much like Jean's moved from Hope back to him as Rachel nodded, then they went right back to her sister. “Yeah,” she agreed, still half-preoccupied. “Maybe...” Mimic was half tempted to just look and see what the hell it was she was thinking. It was easy to see it was something. Something on her mind that'd got her attention. But he wasn't sure he wanted to know. Not right now. Not when all he'd have to do the rest've the night was sit in that chair, watch Hope, and think about it. Over and over and over again. “Maybe I already know,” Rachel said quietly, tone and expression sober. Determined. Calvin's eyebrows rose upward as he frowned. Confusion, curiosity, almost a damned dread, but then he told himself to knock that the fuck off. If it was anything bad, anything wrong with Hope, or that'd been done to Hope that was a problem, he already knew enough about Rachel to know she wouldn't fuck around beating around the bush about it. “I’m going to find out, though.” Whatever it was, she wasn't ready to say until she did whatever she needed to do, and he understood that. He knew that look, how that worked, pretty damned well himself. So he didn't push it as she steeled herself, then looked from Hope back to him. “You’re okay here?” she asked him. “You start freaking out, you’ll call Forge, or Clarice or someone?” Nodding, and letting out a soft, wry chuckle as he sat himself down in the chair next to the bed, the winged man looked back over to Rachel. "Yeah, I think I can manage not to lose my damned mind for a little while," he assured her with a half smile. Jesus, he was an idiot but he knew damned well her and everybody else had good damned reason to ask. "She can't do too much I can't figure out while she's asleep, maybe." And a few minutes on his own, that wouldn't be a bad thing, either, he didn't think. His head hadn't caught up with anything even close to all this yet. Not too damned long, and he knew that, too, but he'd be fine for a while. "You go do whatever you need to do," Rankin told her more seriously, watching her with grave brown eyes. "We'll be fine and if I stop being fine, the Fucker and company are just a teleport away." |
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| Marvel Girl | Feb 25 2014, 01:13 AM Post #85 |
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Needs her powers to dress herself
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Right. Probably should have made an effort to use more words - or at least better ones - in her own verbal shorthand for the parts of her thoughts she was willing to share with the room. She’d gotten Mimic curious, maybe a little worried too, with the ‘yeahs’ and the ‘maybes’ with nothing in between, Rachel could see. But she still didn’t share any more of them, all the same, and it was probably a good thing that the winged man seemed to have decided not to try to pry either, because that could have got awkward real quick. This part... ...well, if she was right, this part wasn’t really going to be do with him. And what she was planning to do to find out? He’d probably be better off for not knowing that she could do that too. Better not to know about the scope for time travel, if you didn’t have to, especially when it came to something like this, going back to then and not being able to do any thing at all to save Mom, or Hope back then. So Rachel left it as a firm, but firmly non-specific intention of ‘going to find out’, and Calvin Rankin seemed... well, maybe content wasn’t the word for the feeling she was getting from his mind. Understanding, though, that was part of it. Recognition. Something like that. Then there was just the matter of making sure that he was okay here, and maybe more importantly, that he’d remember to call Forge, or Clarice, or someone if he started freaking out. Well, that got a chuckle, at least. Not really above a ‘wry’, on the scale of chuckling, but it was better than angry indignance, or worse, having precipitated exactly that kind of freakout just by mentioning it. "Yeah, I think I can manage not to lose my damned mind for a little while," he assured her with a half smile. "She can't do too much I can't figure out while she's asleep, maybe." Rachel’s own snort managed maybe at least a notch above wry, and she shook her head, smiling a little herself. “Just keep telling yourself that.” But yeah... one way or another, leaving now was definitely something she needed to do. He needed the space for his thoughts, you could see that in his head. Processing, if there was any real chance of it, wasn’t going to happen in company. "You go do whatever you need to do," Rankin told her more seriously, watching her with grave brown eyes. "We'll be fine and if I stop being fine, the Fucker and company are just a teleport away." “Good.” Rachel nodded, reminding herself as much as him that he was right. And in any case, she’d be gone for nearly no time at all, if she managed to do this right. Her own power, the one that had been hers, not inherited from Mom - she hardly found any time to use it any more, but you couldn’t forget how to use something like that. All she needed was a mind that had been there, and there was one sleeping just in front of her. It wouldn’t matter than Hope had been newborn - the thread of memory was still there, buried under all the things she’d never know she remembered. Pain, fear, confusion - a birth. “Goodnight, Hope,” Rachel said again, leaning back over to give her sister’s forehead one last kiss and sliding that memory out like a single card from a deck, without the little sleeping girl being any the wiser. That was another old trick, but then she had it, and Rachel straightened, turning back to offer a last quick smile to Calvin, took ‘hold’ of one end of the mental thread of the memory, and let the Phoenix Force cloak her, pulling her out of the world and back through into the past along with it. [End. Continued for Rachel in some days of past future adventures at some point, and for Calvin Thursday morning, in a yet-to-be-named thread with Jean] |
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3:33 AM Jul 11