Conceal, Don't Feel

Lux Wentworth | 21 | Legacy | Fire Manipulation I think everyone should aim to live to the best of their abilities, and that's why you have me -- to tell you exactly how to. I am everyone's best friend, shoulder to cry on, and ear to whisper in. I am the gate keeper of the elite, and I never fail. Don't let the power of the Crowe's and Woodsen's fool you; it will always be about influence, not intellect of brutality.

[lux-wentworth]

Don't look at me like that.

[modusumbra-blog]

"Good speed. Terrible power—do you even have accuracy?" Joey keeps on his feet, shifting his weight from right to left to keep the blood flowing and his energy up. Their last round ended up with her on the floor but she got up, at least she had determination. When she calls him forth again, he doesn’t need to be told twice. He darts forward and begins with a right hook to her mid section.

[lux-wentworth]

"No... I don't." Lux admits with great integrity. It was her fatal flaw, she had no sense of control over her strength, and certainly not her abilities. But she would learn, she willed herself. With a heavy grunt, Lux takes the hit and stumbles backwards, before lunging forward and -- with great focus -- slams her right fist right against his abdomen. Keeping her grip on his shoulder, she hits again, and again, until she's satisfied with her results. "Pretty little rumor floating around..." Even in her state of determination and confusion, Lux still kept herself in-the-know, especially with the strange ongoings as of late. "That you threw a big fit at the ball. Anything to do with how suspicious everyone is being?"

[lux-wentworth]

Don't look at me like that.

[zoe-elizabeth-hastings]

Her tongue grazed over her lips lightly as she wiped the sweat from her face. The two of them had been at it for quite a while, training sessions almost every day. Zoe was glad, of course, all she wanted was the students to reach out to her and when she heard that a Wentworth, a Legacy, did just that, it made her ecstatic. She literally jumped for joy and nodded her head with such enthusiasm that one would probably have thought she were on some kind of drug. “Are you sure you’re doing alright, Lux?” she asked, her words laced with much concern. As a woman who went undercover, dark, for years, she found that training had been her escape. Always such the overachiever. “Our last session, Lux, had me worried that you would pass out any minute. Why don’t we take a break? Have some lunch?” She pressed, giving the girl a comforting smile. This was it - this was her chance to prove to herself that she could make a difference in someone’s life… to help someone.

[lux-wentworth]

While St. Mary's was in no short supply of combat professors, none seemed more fitting to train her than Zoe Hastings. Brian Webb, for all of his merits, was a man -- he didn't understand the limitations and merits of her strength and flexibility. More so, Lux doubted that he would be able to train her in the way she required -- a defensive strategy when faced with a sexual predator such as Henry Storm. But Hastings, she could achieve her ends. If only she didn't treat me like a child... Lux muses as she wipes the sweat beads from her forehead and staggers upwards. "I don't need a break..." Lux mutters under her breathe. Every second she didn't spend on this, was another second of feeling helpless. She was determined to never feel that way again. "What I need is for you to quit treating me like a spoiled, petulant child." Perhaps it was harsh and misdirected, but she would achieve very little if Zoe was more concerned with holding her hand than teaching her the tricks of the trade. With an apologetic sigh, she shakes her head. "I can't feel weak anymore. I can't be out of control... I need to get better, now."

[lux-wentworth]

Don't look at me like that.

[he-is-a-maneater-blog]

Grayson receded to his side of the mats after another round of sparring ended with his training partner falling on her ass. A quiet sigh left him and he lost more interest in actually putting some effort in sparring with Fire Princess than he had a moment ago. The dull expression was highly visible on his face, especially when he shot a glance towards the clock in hopes that combat class was in its last minutes. His attention only returned to her when Fire Princess brought herself back up.

Eyebrows furrowed and Gray gave the girl a look as if she had just said something stupid – which, she had; however, it was seconds until Gray shrugged the look off and raised his fists. “Alright, you asked for it, Princess.” He swung with his right, but didn’t aim for contact because his left fist had swung after to catch her off guard.

[lux-wentworth]

There were very few legacies lining up to work with the fallen legacy fire princess. After all, her shotty reputation as former teen mother turned "hot mess" landed her at the bottom of the social ladder. Surprisingly enough, Lux couldn't muster more than a pinch of resentment at her fallen status. After her loss, nothing mattered but avenging her. Much to her delight, she managed to convince Gray to train with her. It was no easy feat, but her persistence proved to be irresistible. Exhausting a hot breathe, she can see the smoke form as she exhales. It had been days since she removed her necklace, and not a day went by that she didn't set something -- or someone -- on fire. "Don't call me a princess." Lux hisses in utter irritation. She was no princess. She was no flighty, fashion savvy little bundle of light. She was a fucking survivor, she told herself time and time again. She takes the blow against her rib cage in stride and retaliates with a jerk of her hips, using her strength to push him away. She steadies her stance against the mat and utilizes the only thing in her arsenal; her speed. It was the perks of being such a tiny girl; she was fast. Within seconds she jolts towards him, attempting to lock his neck around her petite arm, unintentionally setting her arm on fire and practically burning his neck.

[lux-wentworth]

Don't look at me like that.

[bernard-laswell]

[Bernard watches Lux with concerned look even though she doesn’t seem to like it. Compare to her, he doesn’t look tired at all. Just a bit awkward about the situation. Combat training is not his favorite subject. For one thing, he doesn’t usually let himself use full power. He scratches the back of his ear with his head tilted to the side as Lux says to continue.] I don’t think that’s a good idea. Maybe you should take a break… [He murmurs uncertainly.]

[lux-wentworth]

No. (Lux responds defiantly as she scrambles to her feet, exhausting a heavy breathe. It was important that she accelerated her training, for the sake of her own sanity.) No breaks, we keep going. (Lux insists, holding herself up with a convicted gleam in her eyes) I'm not a child anymore. I can take a real hit.

[lux-wentworth]

Don't look at me like that.

(Scrambling upwards from the mats, Lux rubs away the excess sweat against her forehead. She had been hard at work the past few weeks since her recovery, focusing on improving her skills in combat and managing without her patented heart necklace. It was a time of reform from the fallen legacy princess, and she wouldn't stop until she felt strong enough to feel safe again.) Hit me again... Come on, hit me.

[lux-wentworth]

(St. Mary's was filled with suspicious whispers of a sudden breach of safety in the streets of Herefordshire. It's chaos out there. And from what everyone can tell, it isn't one of Hearst's Black Ops initiatives, she had overheard in the halls on her way out of the infirmary. According to the doctors, the young girl reached a full recovery, "almost as if it never happened" the man said so critically. But despite the turmoil and horrid thoughts whizzing around her mind, the desire to feel strong fueled her above anything else. Acting as a bystander as others ran her life was once acceptable, even comfortable, but after losing something beyond herself, she needed this. Quickly, Lux acquired a number of her father's prototypes and made her way into Herefordshire without batting an eyelash. Only a few minutes in did she spot an oncomer, immediately pointing her gun right to them) What did you do?

[melcooperorange]

[lux-wentworth]

It seemed that every travesty and tragedy was worth it, almost. To have her, to hold her, to have the privilege to love her -- it would make it all worth it.

[forrest-cooper-blog]

As she sits in her chair, he moves, sitting on the ground a bit in front of her. “None of us get to choose. So, you can take comfort or whatever in that fact. I didn’t choose to be an orphan. Nor did I choose to get brain damaged. You didn’t choose what your body did. None of us get to choose our lives here. Hearst does that. People with power do that. And while your name sounds like it has power, there’s always someone with more ready to choose your every move.” He watches her carefully. He wouldn’t remember this conversation. He didn’t have his notebooks, so he couldn’t record any of it. And maybe that was for the best, for her if not for him. Her words echo a sentiment he’d tried to convince himself of since he was a little boy. “On the one hand, yeah. You learn quick that life is fucked and if you need other people you’re only gonna get hurt.” He pauses, unsure if he wants to go on. But, what the hell? Say the honest thing, right? “But, you still chase the fantasy. You make a wish every birthday, on every shooting star. You pray, you ask Santa. You beg for someone to love you. For a long lost father to come through the door and sweep you up, tell you your actual name and give you a home. No more lonely holidays. We can tell ourselves that we are better off knowing that people will cast us aside, but there will always be that small part of ourselves longing for them to prove us wrong.” 

[lux-wentworth]

"Forrest Cooper." Lux acknowledges with recognition playing along her darkened eyes. Before this entire debacle, Lux made a conscious effort to do research on every project in St. Mary's, mostly to forward her "pristine good girl" reputation. Amongst them was Forrest Cooper, mocked infamously by her legacy counterparts for remembering very little. "I did my research; orphan, levitation, mind pusher threw you over the ledge... You don't remember most things." It seemed like a welcome relief for the brunette, to remember very little. How she wish she could forget awakening to her fetus on fire... Jaw clenching at his words, she thinks of all the people she had reigned in for some semblance of love; Henry Storm, Zachariah ZImmerman, Dax Morrison, Vivianna Bellinari, her Wentworth cousins -- all who knew one side to her, never the entire picture. Her strenuous effort to conceal the darkness created a distance between them that could not be absolved. "If you want something, you have to get it yourself." is what she ultimately decides after a prolonged pause. What did she want? For the pain to be null and void? No... Pain demanded to be felt. But she didn't want to be her own victim anymore. She wanted an active role in every tragedy and fantasy that accumulated before her. Nothing more, nothing less. "It took me... all of this, to realize how important that is. I don't think I deserve such great things, but I think I, nay, we, deserve the opportunity to get what we want." And yet even with the influx of pain and demons that lingered around her mind, she always sought to reach out. Maybe it was easier. With a hint of boldness, Lux lightly reaches downwards, warm hand clasping his own. An expression of darkened sincerity overcomes her face. "I'm so sorry for all that you've been through."

[clayton-o-hare]

"I can do this."

Sitting beside a tree, Clay lays his book down on his lap and closes his eyes for a moment. He’d found the book, a diary of one of the most talented siren song users, in the school library and had taken to studying it. The woman was from the late 1800s and while she may not have known the exact science behind her gift, she’d written down ways to use the gift that she’d discovered. Some things Clay knew he would never be talented enough to do, others he just wouldn’t out of principle. But there were several pages, the equivalent of three or so chapters in this diary, devoted to using the song to elicit physical responses from the listeners that correspond with certain emotions. Essentially, if focused enough, a person with siren song could trigger emotional responses by tricking the listener’s body into thinking it was feeling that way. He focuses and tries to sing happiness. It was one that he had the hardest time with. But he thinks about the way it feels when the corners of your mouth first curve up in a smile, he thinks about the sound of laughter. He floods his song with his happiest memories; dancing with Rea in their own private illusion, baking with Bernie, teasing Zach. Every ounce of happiness he has ever felt fills his voice and he looks around, hoping to see if it’s working, if anyone nearby seems to be looking a bit happier.

[lux-wentworth]

The Sycamore tree situated along the perfectly manicured lawn of St. Mary's was a place of solace and serenity for many of the projects. Well, projects who didn't own their own household within St. Mary's and were privy to many trees, anyways. But given the tumultuous circumstances, the farther she could get from the eery coldness of the Wentworth estate, the better. Her father, still the infamous shut in that he was, remained confined in his study even when the news of Lux's terminated pregnancy spread like wildfire throughout the institute. It seemed; however, that his lack of a gracious opinion did not faze her. What did he matter at this point? Broken out of her nostalgic stupor, the young girl wheels her wheelchair closer to the tree, stopping right behind him as the serenity of his voice rings through her ears. Lux always found solace in a sweet melody, it provided her conform away from the noise in her head... But this was drastically different, she could feel her entire body bursting with uncharacteristic joy. Such a welcome relief, but one that fueled a tremendous amount of guilt. "Please -- Please stop singing." She didn't deserve such happiness, not after everything she had done to herself.

[forrest-cooper-blog]

"Despite my every attempt otherwise, I always do." This wasn’t hurtful to him. This was how people talked to each other where he grew up. Her words were no more affecting to him than a light breeze affects an oak. He had always spoken his mind. But ever since his mind had stopped being complete, he didn’t see the point in sugar coating or in waiting to say the true thing. Because he wouldn’t be able to say it another time. His eyes focus on her, though, when she responds to the words that had poured from his mouth. He could sense her pain, and while it wasn’t one he knew or could experience, pain is pain and he’d felt his share, so he understood on a basic level. As she staggers, he moves to help her, heading toward the chair to bring it closer because you don’t touch someone feeling that kind of pain, not a stranger at least. His brain is still trying to form words. "It’s not an abortion if you didn’t make a conscious choice. Mothers whose bodies destroy their own babies do not call it abortion. Miscarriage. Or, some other horrible term, probably." He doesn’t know much about anything and he’s sure he’s probably not helping, but he’s saying it anyway because no one else would. "An abortion is a choice. Your body didn’t choose. You didn’t choose." He stares at the ground. "I’m sorry you lost her." 

[lux-wentworth]

Your body didn't choose. You didn't choose... But what good was that? Nothing ever seemed to fall under her jurisdiction of choice, everything simply happened to her. Sex was rarely her choice, what she said or did was hardly her choice... But her baby, Vivianna, she was to be her choice, something that happened but she let happen. "I never get to choose." Lux mutters as she slowly plops herself downwards into her seat, a breathe of relief passing from her lips. The strenuous movements did her more harm than good. "Choice seems to be a privilege even I can't afford these days." With a bitter laugh, she hands relax against her arm rests, the smoke slowly diluting but still prominent around them. A perfect stranger brought to light what many did not. It seemed that talking to someone completely outsider her inner circle made fathoming and confronting such circumstances much simpler. There was a comfort in knowing that he had no idea who she was, or rather pretended to be. A clean slate. "It's better sometimes." Lux offers consolingly, once bright eyes filled with an insanity that was no stranger to the person in front of her. "To be cast aside by the people who "love" you from the get go..." It was an opinion of hers that, under normal circumstances, ought to not be shared in polite company -- but in the midst of their topics ranging from abortions to the shame that comes with them, it seemed that courtesy went out the window a long time ago. "That way you don't spend your entire life chasing after a wishful fantasy."

[forrest-cooper-blog]

Forrest nods at the word pyrokinetic. “That explains a lot then.” He pauses. “If you’re going to go Hiroshima, at least let me fucking leave. I may smoke, but my lungs aren’t too adept at breathing in human flesh.” He sees the look in her eyes and part of him wonders what happened to her. But then her diatribe removes the wonder. “First off, before you said your name, I didn’t know who the fuck you were. Remembering is not my skill. Secondly, it sounds more like you’re the source of more of the rumors. Third, I’m a fucking Brooklyn orphan. What do I care about you getting knocked up? And whose business is it if you got an abortion?” He throws his hands up with a frustrated sigh. “I knew a girl, Janie, she got knocked up too. Obviously she’s not someone important like you seem to be. Just an orphan girl. She had an abortion. None of us made fun of her. Cause we knew, yeah? Life sucks when your parents didn’t want you. Why bring a kid into the world you’re gonna hate?” He has to hand it to her, she takes self-loathing and self-pity to a whole new level. And while he has his days, usually he kept his quiet. 

[lux-wentworth]

"You'll survive." Comes her curt response, veiled with utter carelessness unbecoming for a person of her character. She may not have the purest heart, in fact, she was a monster by all accounts, but she was never careless. The world was filled to the brim with people caring for so little beyond themselves. His words of brutal honesty come as a shock, partly because Lux knew very little of honesty. Her words were always laced with being politically correct, never too controversial or too liberal for anyone's taste. A politician's wife, Orion Hearst once called her out of utter amusement, set to smile, nod and speak for the people. Yet here a man was saying what was on his mind with very little inhibition. Despite the slew of insanity that lingered in her mind, it was a great comfort to hear the truth. Even if it was a painful one to become. The simmer of the fires about the room mellow slightly, eyes strained when succumbing to the truth she dare not utter, for it increased her pain. It was better to despise herself, to paint herself the villain, than to admit to what lingered in her mind all along. "I wanted her." It comes as a short, quick, quiet sentence before escalating in volume and conviction. "I loved her, I loved everything about her and I never even -- I never even got to hold her." Lower lip quivering, her hand instinctively rests along her breaking bandages. "I loved her and I... I did it to myself, without even meaning to, my body decided what it wanted and it wanted her dead. So she died." It was a fuel of honesty shared with a perfect stranger. "There are parents who do not love their children. My father never -- but I, believe me, I loved her. I loved her. She was the entire reason I never tried again, because she would be my second chance. She would make me happy... And she's gone and I'm... Alone. I'm alone." Feeling the weakening of her knees, she attempts to stagger towards her abandoned wheel chair.

[al-woodfield]

(Hearing a loud yell coming from one of the rooms he’d just walked past by, he turned around and headed that way. He couldn’t tell if it had been a scream out of anger or pain, so he walked in anyway, thinking someone could be in need of medical attention. It doesn’t take him long to recognize the petite brunette, Lydia was her cousin after all and they had met a while ago at one of Lydia’s family events). Lu- Uh Miss Wentworth (Her cousin and him had been together for a while, but Al wasn’t sure that consisted on being allowed to treat the girl on first name basis) Is everything alright? (he asks with concern laced in his polite tone, and it doesn’t escape his notice the swirls of smoke around her hands).

[lux-wentworth]

"Do you remember what I first said to you when we met?" A hollow laugh finds itself ringing through the smokey combat room. But wasn't every single laugh of hers hollow? She wondered in that very moment how many laughs rang without meaning -- millions, she deduced. She clung onto the grace and poise of being a woman of great kindness and character, it would be her salvation, her emotional tether. But what now? She was no longer the pristine young Wentworth whom everyone admired (if not mocked) for her outrageous kindness. She was what she feared; a monster. "With a clean shave and a pair of designer skinny jeans, you could be the talk of the town. And then -- oh, right! We talked about Lydia and your future together. How sweet and happy you and your future children will be." She could barely feel the pain of her stitches coming undone, only the pain of what was lost never to be found. "I never wanted children." Her rants were void of any sense, but they didn't require sense, anyone within earshot would hear the hoards of gossip mongrels speaking of her fall from grace. A pregnancy from professor, Dax Morrison, suddenly terminated by Lux herself. She burned her uterus -- literally! Some would exclaim insensitively.

[forrest-cooper-blog]

One of Forrest’s favorite exercises was a balancing act of sorts. Levitating at his maximum height, he turned upside down vertically and held the position for as long as he could. Didn’t accomplish anything really, but it was something he liked. It was what he was doing when the girl’s yelling snaps his concentration, sending him dropping toward the ground headfirst. He catches himself half a foot from the ground and lowers himself to a standing position. Looking at her, he almost scowls. “So is spontaneous human combustion and yet you seem well on your way.”

[lux-wentworth]

"I'm a pyrokinetic." Lux hisses beneath her breathe, sending a swift kick against the burning punching bag. "Burning things to the ground, including myself, is my forte." Craning her neck away from the punching bag briefly, her eyes fixated on him -- a nameless carrier that, before such tumultuous circumstances, would have been greeted with the infamous bright grin and fashion tips of the great and beautiful Lux Wentworth. But she was no longer the embodiment of light; shoulders practically magnetized to the ground, eyes filled with fire, lips bruised and battered. She was the ashed remains of a beautiful relic that many had come to admire. Kind and benevolent... Now reduced to such shame. "I know what you're thinking. It's what everyone is thinking, isn't it? What everyone is talking about? Lux Wentworth? How does a girl so pretty and sweet end up a knocked up teen mom who aborts her own baby. Mister Wentworth must be so ashamed!" Lux mocks in deep self loathing, well aware of the rumors that surrounded her since the past few month's events.

[lux-wentworth]

"Miss Wentworth, it would be inadvisable given your state to --" Heated fist crashing straight first into the computer's screen, she glass deeply engrained into her once smooth fingers only burn her skin out of reflex. Abandoned wheel chair thrown against a wall, Lux was dressed in her combat attire, with a large bandage wrapped around her stomach after her miscarriage (abortion, Lux would say to anyone within earshot). Limping slightly, she ignores the pain -- she always ignored the fucking pain -- and turns to a punching bag, hurling punch after punch. "It would be inadvisable to disrupt me at this time." Lux yelled through the smoke of her hands.

[arianna-carrington-blog]

Arianna shifted uncomfortably at Lux’s words, but she had already decided that for the most part, she would stay by the girl’s side. Nasty rumors had been going around about her and she wanted to let her know that she had a friend by her side. “Lux… it wasn’t your fault. Miscarriages happen… It’s simply your body saying that it’s not ready to take on the baby. I can’t tell you that I know how much it hurts, but… you don’t have to hurt alone.” Biting down on her lip, she shakes her head and places them back onto the table. “Because, Lux, you’re bright and shiny. You’re beautiful and you deserve flowers to remind you of such… I’m sorry about your little girl, I am.” Arianna didn’t know what else to say. “But, I, uhm, I’m here for you.”

[lux-wentworth]

"It wasn't a miscarriage." Comes the snappy response laced with self-loathing and disdain. As if to prove her point, she swivels closer to Arianna, her fingers resting along the dreaded necklace tied on her neck, and lights a momentary, insignificant fire within the depths of her intestines -- enough to jolt the girl into realization. "That... That's what killed my baby, my little girl. A fire! A goddamn fire I could have prevented... Don't you get it?" Her voice is hoarse now as she feels her palms burning with heat. "I didn't want her! For months, I didn't want the stupid fucking thing. And right when I decided..." Gulping, her eyes flash with pain so momentous that a light fire sparks within them. "Right when I wanted it, my body took her away, I wanted her to die!" Quickly reaching for the vase, she throws it between them.

[arianna-carrington-blog]

Biting down on her lip, her gazed moved to the ground as the girl beckoned for her to go away. Arianna didn’t do that, but instead she moved closer and placed a small vase of flowers she picked out from sneaking off into town, as well as a glass of water. “You should… drink something, Lux.” Gulping down the knot that formed in her throat, she attempted to give the girl a wide smile. It faltered to see Lux in this state. “I-I… I know I should go, but you were there for me and now I… uh, I want to be here for you.”

[lux-wentworth]

A sudden jolt of irrational rage settled upon her. Anger, it appeared, was the only emotional response that Lux could exude lately. It was certainly easier to manage and explain than sadness."And who's there for Viviana?" Lux snaps sharply, voice steady but expression harsh as she sits up abruptly. Cringing slightly at the residual pain, she looks at Arianna indignantly. "Who was there to make sure that I didn't kill her?" Side-eyeing the flowers critically, she hands them back to Arianna. "They're awfully bright and shiny for flowers made to signify death."

[lux-wentworth]

Nestled underneath the silk bed sheet, Lux's head rests against her pills turned away from the entrance to the private ward of St. Mary's infirmary -- reserved especially for legacies. Rumors of Lux's abrupt miscarriage -- or as most viciously deduced, self inflicted abortion -- circulated St. Mary's like wildfire. "Go away." Lux mutters at the sound of an oncoming figure.