Penelope what did u do this valentines
Yearn.
seen from Bolivia
seen from China
seen from Bahrain
seen from China

seen from Malaysia
seen from Vietnam

seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Greece

seen from Malaysia
seen from Germany
seen from China

seen from Bahrain
seen from China
seen from Bahrain
seen from United States

seen from Singapore
Penelope what did u do this valentines
Yearn.
act 6??.....act7?? I got rlly into it. (I jumped acys but there's no way this is actually 3 and I have no stamina for 4, 5, 6)
Last Line Tag
I was tagged by @dustylovelyrun thank you ^^
Two girls in sparkling dresses stood not too far from them, stealing glances Aiden’s way, talking to each other in hushed whispers.
As Aiden noticed them, he flashed them a subtle smile. It was barely there, probably a mere gesture of courtesy, but both girls giggled, faint blushes dusting their cheeks as they turned away quickly.
Talon rolled his eyes. He hated this job.
(In which Talon is Aiden’s guard while he’s at court and no he is not jealous why would you think that?)
I tag @thewalkingnerdx @annoyingwritingtrash and @sleepy-night-child
charming.event05
Involving: Cain Carter, Leyla Oden, Loraine Carter(mamma), Gianna Carter Mentions: Mel Monroe & Martain’s death Summary: Mostly pre plot drop with mentions of post plot drop Tags: @leylaxoden @giannacarterx Notes: just an ooc note that we did use italics and bold etc. when it was needed but they haven’t transferred over now i’ve pasted it onto here so fml :)
Loraine: Two hours in and finally she spotted her son was distracted enough not to notice if she made a b-line towards the woman he’d walked in with. She only assumed it was Leyla, the mystery girl who she’d been wanting to meet for some weeks now. She’d admit she’d never cared to know who Cain spent his time with before, but that’s because he’d never spoke about anyone before and not with the expression he had when he spoke about her. A mother knows. Interest peeked, curiosity so close to being satisfied, she weaves through the crowd and gestures to the seat next to her. “Would you mind, sweetheart? I’m getting too old to stand up in heels.” As a polite gesture, she hands out a champagne flute she collected on the way. “You look absolutely stunning. I noticed earlier, your date couldn’t keep his eyes off you.” She’s purposely not letting on that she’s his mother, not yet. “Handsome one, isn’t he?” If she did say so herself. “Boyfriend?” She asks. It’s a seemingly innocent question, but there’s a hint of a devilish smirk on her lips that’s undeniable.
Leyla: Once her attention’s being pulled towards another— someone she doesn’t necessarily recognise, it’s in that moment she takes a quick glance in the direction she knew Cain was in, seeing that he wasn’t alone she finds herself being taken over by politeness. “Yeah, of course,” she nods with a smile, accepting her offer that came in the form of champagne. Taking the seat beside her, it’s in the few seconds that past she wondered whether the woman just wanted company and whilst she didn’t mind, the mention of her date soon allowed her to grow suspicious. “You did?” She turns her head, now making the effort to actually take a good look at her, brow raising and in the brief moment time allowed, her features showed that she was making an attempt to suss the other out. “He’s—“ she’s being stopped by the boyfriend mention, a brief knit together of her brows as she settles back to a smile, “Something like that. Do you know him?” It sure sounded like she did and if by chance she didn’t? Her next guess was a busybody.
Loraine: There’s a quirk in her brow when she notes the pause, deciding herself that it was obvious they hadn’t stepped over that conversation yet. She smiles, quite pleased with her answer. Whilst it wasn’t a yes, it wasn’t a no either so she’d settle happily with that. “I do. So well infact that I don’t need to look around to know that he’s one of two places, the bar or the buffet.” There’s a little chortle of laughter as she pauses to sip her drink. “He’s a good man, I’m sure you’ve noticed.” It’s not a question, but she is hoping for an agreement without any hesitation. After all, anyone who wanted to be with her son, she expected to see his value. It didn’t matter how old he got, he was still her baby. He’d been through too much and came too far with himself to be burned by any woman. ( naturally, she is still bitter about his ex, especially because she never really liked her in the first place - she was someone she learned to tolerate ) “Hope you don’t mind me asking, what accent is that?”
Leyla: “Sounds about right,” she smirked, the only reason she’d say she got him here was on the promise of free food. Inwardly chuckling she finally relaxes into the chair she was sitting in, finally taking a sip of her drink. Whilst she didn’t really get an answer on how the woman knew Cain, she wasn’t blind to the sense of her knowing him well. “I don’t think he’d agree,” she did, however and there’s a soft smile from her, “But I have,” noticed, that was. She thought that one day— if she got that, she’d make him realise what she and apparently other people thought to, sure she could tell him that now but she knew he’d only dismiss it. “Oh no,” she didn’t mind, “It’s Turkish,” sometimes entwined with a little Dutch, she was after all, a Dutch citizen, her roots were strongly and first and foremost from Turkey, however. “I moved here from the Netherlands actually, I think four years ago now, to finish my degree,” she offers a smile. “and Charming’s apparently become home.” She softly chuckles, taking a long sip of her drink.
Loraine: “You know him quite well then.” She commented back in reference to Leyla saying he wouldn’t agree. Maybe it wasn’t obvious, but there was a brief sadness that clouded her eyes, a dispare that came from knowing how Cain viewed himself. Especially in comparison to how he used to be. “He’s been through a lot.” She hums, stopping herself there. Now was not the time to go protective mother, not when her instincts about Leyla were actually quite good. She seemed to have her head screwed on and she’d already seen subtle little changes in Cains behaviour that made much more sense now she knew there was a girl involved. “Ah,” now she said it, she could place the accent. “Charming has a way of sucking people in. The name is quite fitting.” Loraine steals a glance around, making sure her son was still over by the buffet. A little more time to talk with Leyla alone wouldn’t be a bad thing. “Degree?” She asks, though she does already know the answer. “Brains and beauty. A rare thing.” She smirks, tipping her head down to take of her mask for a little while. Her emerald green eyes now more obvious to the brunette. She wonders for a moment if the penny will drop before she actually tells her who she is, but the mischievous side of her hopes not.
Leyla: Whilst she agrees she doesn’t say too much else, more because she’s the type to not disclose too much to people she doesn’t generally know. It’s something that came along with her profession— a force of habit, if you like. She offers a soft smile in agreement, “He has.” the sleepless nights Cain had? The surface of his back covered in scars? He had been through more than she’d wish on anyone and even then, she didn’t necessarily know the full extent of everything that played on his mind. In moments like this and a handful of others, she found herself really realising the care she actually held for him and it was more kick, the fact that up until last week she wasn’t aware just how underneath her skin he was. “It really is.” She chuckles, it wasn’t perhaps the town itself that had Leyla staying on once she professionally could call herself a doctor, it was the people and the her patients she saw routinely. She nods, “As of last year I officially work at the hospital, no longer on coffee duty either.” She’s joking, but it’s an achievement she’s proud of but also very modest about. “I have my parents to thank for that,” she smiles, they were both intelligent and beautiful. As the woman’s removing her mask she finds herself glancing at her for longer than she thought, it was the eyes that held her there, the familiarity was something that made her smile. She doesn’t say anything, at least not yet anyway, but her suspicions are pretty much confirmed in the moment.
Loraine: It went unsaid, but she appreciated the way Leyla acknowledged her words with a kindness in her eyes. More than could ever be said for his ex, she always swore if she ever sees her again she’d ring her neck. Never let it be said that a woman of her age couldn’t bite back, but maybe that was just something she learned to do with a husband who was in the MC. “Most of the people here ain’t too bad, either. You seem to have done well for yourself.” She wasn’t just meaning Cain ( biasly ) but in general, landing on her feet with a good job. A decent job. “Good for you, there’s not enough people willing to give these days.” Whilst she wouldn’t say Leyla quite had her approval, she had very little doubt that she wouldn’t get it. But one little chat was certainly not enough for her to hold her hopes up. She was a protective mother before she was anything else. “Same field?” Her parents, that was. There’s no time to grill her on anything else as she feels a hand on her shoulder and turns to see a pair of green eyes. The look on Cains face was the picture of someone who was actively trying to look calm when in reality, there’s a little mild panic and even nervousness there. “Hello,” She’s smirking, standing to her feet to greet him with a soft hug, which he reciprocates with a glance towards Leyla as he does. “Mother…” It was a knowing tone, one that told her he could figure out for himself what she was upto. “You look beautiful.” He smiles, gives her a kiss on the cheek and steps back with a little rub at the back of his head. Loraine turns her attention back towards later, amusement written all over her face now her son had confirmed her identity. “I was just having a nice chat with your….” She pauses and it’s on purpose, just to make him sweat a little more. “Date.” Gesturing for them both to sit back down, Cains eyes flip suspiciously between the two of them.[09:30]“Uh-huh. Unsupervised. That’s– that’s…” He’s struggling for words, seeing them together had absolutely caught him off guard but finally, he snaps back into focus. “Well to be honest that was really sly, did you wait till I was distracted?” There’s a hint or a smile on his face. “Of course I did. I couldn’t have you interfering.” While she made her judgement, that was. “And you seemed happy enough over there pouching your little cheeks.” She teases, lifting her hand up to pinch one which makes him move to swat her hand away before she can. Loraine laughs first and finally, he breaks into an eye roll and a smile. “She didn’t interrogate you too much?” Cain asks Leyla, earning a scoff from his mom. “Make me sound like a fuckin witch why don’t you. I did no such thing.” She denies it, tips up her head and brings her glass to her lips. “Is that true?” Raising a brow, he directs the question to Leyla, who’s still seated and visibly calm so hey, it couldn’t have been that bad, he thought. “I like her.” Loraine admits, turning her head to offer Leyla a genuine smile. “It’s about time you found someone who’ll whoop your ass when you’re being a little shit.” As far as compliments go, it was one of the highest coming from her and it made Cain smile from ear to ear. He hadn’t doubted she would like her but hearing it was almost like a relief. It meant a lot to him and honestly, it probably showed on his features. “Well I plan on keeping her, so… That’s good.” He wheezes out a laugh and shakes his head, eyes casting back over to Leyla. “You eat yet? I can go get you something. There’s no pizza though, which I believe was promised. What else you lie about, huh?” He jokes, smirking just to make it obvious that he was infact, referring to how she said she wasn’t wearing anything underneath her dress.
Leyla: It’s when she’s looking at the other that she can really notice the care she held for Cain in her eyes, it’s that as well as the similarity in expressions that makes her wonder if she wasn’t just a relation to him, but in fact his mother. If so, despite how charming she was coming across, Leyla felt that she was a hard woman to cross and it was a quality she admired. Not that she expected anything different, especially if Cain was anything to go by. He had to get it from somewhere, right? “Yes I— uh, can be very determined.” She inwardly chuckles, once she had her mind set on something, she did it and she felt lucky she had that trait. Being an orphan at twelve left room for a number of bad life choices and whilst she was finding her feet in life, she stuck to her guns and it paid off. “They were, actually.” She followed in their footsteps more to feel closer to that void she had grown up with.[14:18]At this point, not only is she not surprised to see Cain, more because it allowed her to completely connect the dots she had already started to slot together, there’s a hint of calming relief, a small smirk as her hues meet his, watching the interaction between the two she can’t help but think how soft it is. She can feel that she’s under scrutiny— even more so than before when Cain was elsewhere, she doesn’t mind, in actual fact she finds it funny. The look from Cain and him stumbling over his words was enough to get her to break out into a grin, was that nerves she was picking up on? She’s chuckling to herself, drinking a bit more, feeling herself needing it and once she’s finished she places her empty glass down on the table. She shakes her head, visibly amused as her attentions pulls from Cain to his mom when she scoffed, “Honestly she was just singing your praises.” Leyla figured if he had turned up ten minutes later, then maybe she would have been interrogated, not that she felt like she minded if it had happened— or even told him as such. Hearing that she was liked promoted a return smile that was shortly followed by a laugh. Looking at him it’s almost as if her smile is radiating, there’s a glow to her eyes that was strictly directed for him. Her brow quirks at his mention of no pizza, a smirk tugging on her expressions knowing exactly what he was hinting at, “I have and.. nothing.. had to get you here somehow.”[14:19]Gianna: Busily picking apart the last of the muffins she had grabbed her hands on, she’s popping the little chocolate chunks into her mouth as she’s making her way over towards where she knew her mom was and where she knew Cain had recently dropped everything to hurry over towards. As soon as she reaches the table her eyes are locking onto the woman her brother had walked into the hall with, a mischievous glint to her eyes obvious as she opts to take the free seat next to Leyla, “Hey.” Her smiles forced as it was from ear to ear as she looks from Cain to her mom, and then back to Leyla, seeing the small furrow to her brows as if wondering who this was now. “Mom, now you’ve met the girlfriend,” she’s looking at her brother, as direct as ever, with a smirk as if to say ha, I knew this was happening, “We can leave soon, right?” It’s something she’s been waiting for the moment her and her mom left the house. “But, Leyla,” she looks at the other, “Tell me,” it’s lucky she’s not sitting next to her mom, more because her ribs couldn’t take anymore swift nudges tonight in attempt to shut her up, “what do you see in my brother? I mean, you’re really punching, Cain.”
Loraine: “Always.” She smirked in response to Leyla almost defending her. Well, it wasn’t untrue, she would always speak highly of her son, but the fact he was here and clearly out of sync with nerves? She’d never seen that side of him in a long while, too long, so naturally, she found it highly amusing. “Uh-huh, sure.” Cain was suspicious, but lightly so. He took the fact his mother was still sitting here with a smile as a good sign because he knew that if she didn’t approve, her face would either be sour or she’d be on her feet and leaving already. “Oh? Well then if you’re keeping her, I think you should invite her to dinner next weekend.” Turning to look at Leyla. “If you’re free?” Naturally, someone with a job like hers might not be. “You’re not a vegan are you?” There’s a visible please no on her features as she asks, only for her focus to be pulled around by Cain’s laughter. “… Ah, right. Stupid question huh? You’d never date a vegan.” She once again smirks, even more so when his face goes from laughter back to narrowed eyes and even a small visible blush. The word dating naturally sparking those nerves back up. “Ah shit,” he grumbles, spotting his sister swanning over and sitting down. At this point, he sits back, pinches his nose and then offers Leyla a little hand gesture like he was both apologising and saying to her just gotta roll with it. “Leave? But I’m having such a good time.” Loraine mirrored her daughters mischief. Cain? He was shooting daggers at his sister, like the fuck? you knew she was planning this? little bitch. “And actually, I think we might be makin’ these kids a little uncomfortable with the term girlfriend.” She pauses, to move her voice into a mocking whisper… “They haven’t had that conversation yet.” She’s holding back a laugh. Cain only sucks in a slow breath and closes his eyes. “No, mom, we haven’t. So thanks, thanks very fuckin’ much.” He’s not actually mad, but he does avoid Leyla’s eyes purely because he feels kind of embarrassed. They said no pressure and this? He was mildly worried sounded like moving too fast. Though given the amount of times the G word was mentioned tonight, he was sure it had to come up in conversation when they were alone. Luckily they were both mature enough to talk it out and see if they were there yet or not. “Hey,” Loraine leans forward, clipping him over the back of the head. “Don’t swear in front of your mother, you little shit.” There’s a chortle of laughter because she knows, she’s probably embarrassing him, but what were mothers for, huh? Her eyes quickly shoot to Gianna when she puts the question to Leyla, brow lifting and eyes narrowing slightly. It was a typical sister comment, but the mamma in her wanted to butt in and say no, he wasn’t. Not because Leyla wasn’t stunning, smart and clued in, but because her son, her baby, deserved a woman like her. Cain scrunches up his face, lifting a hand and giving her his middle finger. “I’m lettin’ you know, you’re not as funny as you think you are, kid.” He says before he sits up properly. “But I do agree.” He gives a shrug, as if the confession wasn’t anything big. But really, it was, because it showed them all - she was under his skin, that he actually did see how lucky he was just to have someone like her want to be around him. He looks back over to Leyla, a stare that’s much like the one he gave her when she first walked out her bathroom. Soft, admiring, paired with a gentle smile. It lingers for a few moments before he raises a brow and looks between G and his mother. “So, are you two done now? Are we good? Because if I get any hotter in this suit I’m gonna burst into flames.” Meaning, fucking quit it making him nervous and sweaty.
Leyla: It wasn’t necessarily pressure she felt at the continuous mention of her and Cain dating, it was more the obvious assumption that they were more than she even thought they were. Though that was purely down to that conversation never really happening, which, apparently up until now, it wasn’t something she even thought needed to be discussed. She was happy as she was and despite her not wanting to jump head first and hold regrets, there’s a part of her that can see herself by his side as someone who’s not just a date. “I am—-“ free, that was, her smiles widens to a grin at his mom’s vegan mention and that look on her face that was more or less begging for the answer to be no, caused her to laugh, shaking her head as if to say she wasn’t. “You’d never date a vegan?” she chuckled. “Remind me not to convert…” Her brow quirks as she winks in Cain’s direction, showing him that she was joking, teasing him almost. Seeing him nervous or seeing him blush wasn’t something she had see before and naturally, she found it cute all whilst she found it amusing.[15:52]Her head soon turns into the direction of the woman that had sat in the seat next to her, her side profile holding that same mischievous look as Lorraine makes her realise that she’s obviously family— his sister. She’s smiling as she takes a look in the direction Gianna had just come from, almost looking to see if a small herd was suddenly going to join the table they were all sitting at. That girlfriend mention had her looking at Cain, it’s a thought that wonders if he had told his mom more than he was letting on, or whether she just knew something they both clearly didn’t. “Ohhh,” Gianna emphasises with both her brows raised as she looked from her brother to Leyla, did she just put her foot in it or? By the looks on Cain’s face she did and just like her mom was doing, she too was holding in her laugh, finding that obvious humiliation he was in highly satisfying.[15:52]As he gets batted around the head for swearing, Gianna holds more of a butter wouldn’t melt expression as she pouts at Cain, as if to show some form of sympathy that was clearly put on. Whilst she does Leyla’s chuckling at the encounter, seemingly just as relaxed as she was before, not fazed by what was making Cain sweat. Sure, if she hadn’t already drank as much as she had done, she might of been—- especially with the question that’s thrown her way, what did she see in him, she’s looking from Gianna to Cain this time, more at the word punching, it’s not familiar to her, or more, it’s not familiar in the way it’s being used and the brief confusion on her features was an obvious one. With that paired with the way Cain was looking at her, she finally felt herself feel warm, a little flustered as her cheeks flushed more rosey. It’s something Gianna notices and she whips her head to her mom, a silent exchange as if she’s asking her if she saw that. “No I’m just waiting for you to spontaneously combust.” She directs to her brother with a grin, apparently having a better time than he was. Maybe this ball was worth going to after all. “Do you make him sweat like this all the time?” Leyla asks, a little smirk on her features as she’s directing her question to his sister and mom. “Or is this a rare occasion?” she’s asking as it’s new to her. “I think he just thinks you’re gonna run for the hills.” Gianna replies, biting into her cupcake now, apparently fully satisfied she had picked all the little chocolate chips out.
Cain: “It’s just wrong,” he scoffed. “Yeah, save the animals blah blah, but these people had to go one further and make meat substitutes and say you can’t tell the difference. It’s bold faced lies. I can tell the difference, there ain’t no flies on me.” He’s wrinkling his nose in disgust, quite clearly feeling strongly about it, enough to allow it to distract him from his own sweaty palms. “Yes, well besides that, I actually remember you saying once that you would never date. In general. Anyone. But here we are.” Loraine raised a brow as she pulled the conversation back around just to see the sudden rabbit in headlight eyes. “Yeah. He we are.” He sounds a little grumpy but it’s only because he knows exactly what she’s doing and he doesn’t appreciate it. Was it hot in here? He was hot, tugging lightly at his collar to try and loosen it up. Between his mother and his sister, he could swear he wasn’t gonna make it outta here alive. He’s just thankful Leyla doesn’t seem as nervous as he is, she doesn’t look terrified which actually is helping him stay somewhat calm. “We try,” Loraine smirks. “But do you know how difficult it is to do that?” Make him sweat, that was. But once she says it, she quickly catches her own words. “Well, maybe you won’t find it so difficult. But I haven’t been able to break his macho man parade in years. The last time I made him nervous sweat was when I caught him at 5 years old inside the fridge, eating the chicken I’d prepped for the next day. Whole thing, demolished.” She sighs and shakes her head in amusement. “Alright, alright, first off it wasn’t the whole chicken,” he tells Leyla. “And even if it was, it was a small chicken and you,” he looks back at his mother. “Had sent me to bed without supper because I dragged mud all over your white fur rug and secondly, the fuck do you mean you don’t make me sweat? I’m in a constant nervous state around you. You’re really unpredictably terrifying and put you together[13:24]with your sidekick,” he tips his head over to the childrens corner where CJ’s mom was. “You two can be apocalyptic. I’ve ran through a field full of live grenades while people shot at me and I’d still say that was less terrifying than you can be.” He’s smirking until he looks over at Gianna. “And don’t get me started on you. You’re not scary, you’re just a pain in my ass.” He jests, puffing out a slow breath as he rolls his shoulders. “So I’ll ask again… Are you two done?” Cain quickly lifts his drink and takes a large gulp. Loraine has both brows raised as she looks between her children and Leyla. “Mm,” she simply just hums at first before tipping her head in agreement. “Alright, I’ll give you that one.” She would agree, she could be very terrifying, but she laughs because she knows he’s only messing around. “Scarier than gunfire and grenades,” sitting back in her seat, she looks towards Leyla and shrugs. “I’ll take the compliment.” Putting her glass down, she holds a hand up in defence. “I’m done. Gianna, are you done? I think Cain’s had enough for tonight.” And with her words, he gruffs out a scoff and relents into a lazy smirk, mainly because his eyes have drifted back towards Leyla and he just can’t help it. They can all hear the frantic man who runs in the hall but over all the chatter and music, he doesn’t hear what he’s screaming about and quite honestly? He thinks what most did over in the other corner, it’s nothing. Funny how he told himself that and yet his shoulders have already tensed up, like a sense of something brewing. “Me and ‘Ana are debating ordering a pizza here, you think they’ll let us bring it in?” He chuckles, starting a more relaxed conversation. A couple minutes later, there’s a hand on his shoulder and a member of the MC who bows down to whisper in his ear, one sentence that had the colour draining from his face. “Who?” He turns to look up.[13:24]The guy glances between them all and shakes his head. “Martin.” He confesses. Cain curses under his breath, brushing a hand over his mouth as his lips twist in a thin line. Anger, sadness… That good mood? Gone. “Stay here,” he’s talking to his mother and Gianna who he figures would already be twisting to get up and go with him. “Please.” Cain adds and to his relief, at least Loraine relents and gives him a silent nod. “You too, Doc.” His smile is sympathetic as he focuses his attention on Leyla while he stands up. With a glance behind him, he sees a few members waiting for him and sighs, patting a couple of them on their shoulders and beginning his walk towards the backdoors, following behind Marcus who was naturally leading the pack, so to speak. “Jesus Christ,” Loraine whispers, gentle fingers pressed into her eyes.
Gianna: Musing along as she’s finishing off her cupcake, she’s completely drowning out the people around as well as the music, she’s more or less sitting there laughing ( inwardly as well as outwardly ) at everything that was being said between her mom and Cain. Being a royal pain in his ass was more her duty as his only sibling and boy did she enjoy it, so whilst she feigned that sense of feeling insulted, that little twinkle in her eye followed by a small smirk told just how much she knew exactly what she was doing. “Alright,” she nonchalantly shrugs, following their mom’s lead, “I’m done.” she gives a little nod, reaching for her glass of orange juice she takes a sip to wash down the last of the cake she was eating. Whilst for all of three seconds her eyes become drawn to the guy that has come running into the hall screaming, her attention gets pulled back to Cain as he mentions pizza. She was never really one to not engage in conversation when food was mentioned. There’s a grin on her features as she sees the look on her mom’s expressions at them wanting to stuff their faces even more than they already have, but any form of amusement fell when she saw the guy walk up to Cain, knowing she knows he’s in the MC she’s becoming more nosy, her awareness of her surroundings becoming more obvious as the room is becoming more hectic. She’s watching her brother’s face and her shoulders tense, a moment in which she’s practically ready to get up from the table but with Cain asking her to stay seated, she settles with a sigh, a frown showcasing as she watches the MC walk towards the doors.[20:25]Leyla: That amusing, relaxed— admiring atmosphere that had been created seemingly fizzled at the snap of a finger. It’s the second she’s about to say she wouldn’t say no to pizza that she watches the stranger approach and whisper in Cain’s ear that tells her ( just as it did everyone else ) something bad had happened. She hadn’t ignored the screams from the man abruptly rushing into the hall, it had caused her head to whip into his direction— just as it did a few others, but with the music and the loud voices, for the moment time allowed it hadn’t yet all connected together until the sheer wash over Cain’s expressions. That trait of hers that pulled her to a situation wanting to help was presently there but there’s a silent understanding that she won’t be able to and once Cain’s left the table, the hall suddenly feels quiet. There’s people whispering and as those whispers got louder it was very quickly becoming obvious what had happened. No, at this stage no one really knew what, but the fact that someone had died— Martin, it caused a frown on her expressions. She can’t place the name to a face, not right now, but she feels concerned. She can also feel herself sobering up and that floating mood she was in had been overshadowed by that thought of a murderer potentially sitting in this very hall. She doesn’t say anymore, there’s plenty she might want to say but only if she was in different company. Gianna was quiet, watching the entrance to the hall assumingly for her brother to come back in— Leyla’s first thoughts were wondering if she was worried about Cain, she was herself but she hadn’t ignored the large group he had walked out with; so she knew he’d be fine.
Road to Recovery, Pt 3
Words were hard. Hard even when he had his phone back, courtesy of Angel, so he didn’t have to say them. Scott had never been good at choosing the right words. Right now, they didn’t come easily at all. He’d find a word or two here or there to type up on screen and say what he wanted. Most often [Go Away.] But not always. [Blankets.] was fast becoming a favorite. It was beginning to pop up most on his predictive text. He couldn’t stand being cold right now, and there never seemed to be quite enough.
It’d come to the point that people had started attempting to bribe him with blankets. Like he was stupid. Like he couldn’t tell what they were doing. It was hard to think, but he wasn’t fucking stupid. And that was infuriating. Begrudgingly, he’d cooperated with certain medical tests for the doctors. So long as they didn’t come with needles, he could handle that. They seemed to at least back off a bit after that. He’d begun to worry that “”Hank”” was going to pop out any time he closed his eyes to try and get readings on him. That had abated some.
Not frequently asked for was food. He didn’t need to. “Iceman” brought him soup. Over and over again. Chicken noodle with vegetable. New england chowder. Potato. Broccoli and cheddar. Cream of mushroom. It was so tempting to let up on his “teammate.” But it was impossible to trust so easily. It could all be a trick, a ploy. And what, pray tell, was the end goal? To test his loyalties? He wasn’t loyal. He’d have run from Sinister if he could. Surely he knew that. Scott didn’t know. But despite his mistrust, he did eat the soup.
“Jean” brought him headphones. He appreciated that. She’d also stopped trying to prod at his mind now that he was at least responding. That, Scott appreciated far more. He remembered a place at the back of his mind where she used to live. He couldn’t figure out exactly how he’d ever been able to stand it, but some part of him felt a warm comfort at the thought, even as others shouted out in protest. That didn’t go away if he listened to the music, but being able to pick something that felt right was nice. Control over his environment.
Sometimes that control manifested as just playing the same five songs on repeat without headphones over and over. Much to Alex’s credit, he hadn’t complained, despite being a nearly constant presence somewhere in the room. Supposedly he’d been upset at missing Scott’s first attempt to communicate again, and now there was no getting rid of him no matter how many times he held up [Go Away.] It seemed his control of the environment didn’t extend that far. He didn’t know why he was still mad at Alex. At least this version of his friends he obviously hadn’t managed to kill. Good luck telling that to his heart. It still felt so, so real.
And that was the problem, wasn’t it? Everything felt so real. All of these versions of his baby brother. The one who never existed, the one who died in the fall, the one who was adopted while he was in the hospital, the one who he’d watched pull away in his new family’s car promising to write, the one who’d killed his friends, the one who hadn’t. Most people in his life seemed to live as a nexus of roads not taken. Only one of them could be real. Maybe none of them were real. Maybe he was losing his mind, and that’s what the diamond doctor Sinister had done to him. Maybe they never had been. He needed help. He couldn’t do this anymore, but he didn’t know how to ask.
Road to Recovery, Pt 2
A day passed. Scott still didn’t feel at all well. They’d stopped trying to get blood out of him, though they were still trying their best with other tests. Sometimes he let them. Sometimes he did not. People still wouldn’t leave him be. He had no shortage of visitors to not talk with, though sometimes he did listen.
Alex. Havok. His brother. Maybe his brother. Maybe not. There were so many different versions of him rolling around his skull. Alex who didn’t exist. Alex who was gone when he woke up. Alex who didn’t write, even though he said he would. Havok who killed his friends. Alex who sat at the end of his bed, sometimes with his friends. That would mean he couldn’t have killed him, but then his face still bore the same scars. Alex who he wished would just go away. He wasn’t Alex. He wasn’t anything.
His friends. Hank mostly was quiet, though he could feel his eyes on him. He mentioned the results of those tests. Something Scott didn’t, despite Hank’s apparent opinion to the contrary, actually want to hear at all. He expressed his sorrow over everything that’d happened. Over leaving him behind. He had left him behind. Or he was dead. Or he hated him. Or he was the big blue asshole who kept trying to stick him with needles, and god Scott hated needles. Sometimes he saw the two Hanks together. That didn’t seem wrong. He still didn’t trust it. Trying to find the truth between all these different versions of his friends was hard. It would be easier to forget.
He didn’t really want to forget Jean. She was a very regular visitor here at his bedside. The problem was that she wanted to touch. Some instinct that led her to reach out to touch the rough marks at his wrists, and he’d draw back in tight to himself. He didn’t want to be touched anymore, not even by Jean. Bad as the physical touch sometimes felt (like he wanted to claw at his skin and stop feeling the sensation at all), much worse was the tickle at his brain like a record baby right round, round round. That was the proof, wasn’t it? That this was all a game. Of course it only happened with Jean was around, so maybe not, but wouldn’t he be some kind of fool to ignore it? Maybe once upon a time he could have stomached, or even lived with the regular psychic contact. Not now. Not anymore.
Warren talked some. He never seemed quite like he knew what to say to him. And so he just talked. He’d just talk absently about life around the school. Sometimes girls. Sometimes the team. He had a nice voice. Scott wished he would talk more, not that he would say as much. Engaging with any of this was just looking to hurt himself. And it was like Nate said. Begging to be frozen solid or decked. Let it go. He didn’t so much want to. He wanted to believe that these were his friends. The ones that cared about him, not dead, alive and here with him, asking him to talk, wanting him around. But there were so many versions of all of them, he wasn’t sure that he even knew which versions of them that they were. So even if they were real (or indeed ever had been), he didn’t know that he knew them at all.
Iceman. The room was cold. Scott didn’t like the cold. The cold reminded him of metal tables and instruments and the cold cold place and the Nebraska cold. Everything cold. The cold was enough to remind him of what a game this was. That there was no escape. That he’d agreed to stay forever and not leave again and that was what this was. Temptation to see if he would. He didn’t deserve to be out there. He’d screwed up. Gotten his friends killed. Ruined everything. He didn’t want to be cold anymore.
Amadeus. Whispered briefings late last night when he should have been sleeping. The lights low, the monitors silenced. And the only other sound another set of soft snores. Either Iceman or Alex, he thought. Two more who were very frequently around. Calming at first. March 17th. That would make the little snow outside make sense. Maybe too calming. Maybe a trap to finally bring him down off of his pedestal of vigilance. It was all a little too convenient. That he was probably safe. This seemed laser focused in on things that he wanted to hear. He was home. He was safe. He was loved. Like Amadeus was going to say ‘I love you’ to him. Yeah right. Then again, he was in his head. He had the raw material to work with. Why would he pick something Amadeus wouldn’t say? Maybe just a slip. Maybe a trick. He didn’t know. His head hurt every time he tried to think about it.That had to mean something. He didn’t know what.
All through the day, different visitors. The Champions, Evan, Idie, Laura, Jimmy, Ororo, certain of his teachers, the Headmistress once. He thought he heard the Headmaster’s voice in the hallway. Hard to know. He wouldn’t turn to look. Whenever possible, he just stared out the window, watching the sun pass through the sky, and eventually glaring in as it prepared to set on the horizon. The one visitor he wouldn’t miss. Not that like the visitor he had now.
When “Angel” talked, it wasn’t quite the same as when Warren talked. But then, it wouldn’t be. He’d never been quite right. Always something a little off. And from the start he’d seemingly embraced it, or at least as far back as Scott knew. A slight upward lilt at the end of certain phrases. A little more bubble to the way he spoke at times. But finally he seemed to stop talking, crossing the room to the window shade. “Let me get that for you Scott.” Shut the shade and he’d shut the one thing that he’d come to take some comfort in. Who knew if anyone else would open it for him. He had to stop him. He had to stop him. Had to do something. Had to… Scott sat up straight, shaking his head, but the words wouldn’t come. He couldn’t think of the words, and then couldn’t make himself say them, but he did manage a distressed sound.
It was enough. Angel spun on his heel, looking him over. His face read as surprised for the brief moment Scott took it in before his eyes fell back down into his own lap. Angel rubbed at his chin for a moment, puzzling it out, though he did finally leave the window shade alone before sitting on the side of the bed, very cautious and slow as he set a hand on Scott’s knee. Scott flinched back from it slightly, but with all of the fabric of the blankets and his pajamas it wasn’t so terrible. “Well that’s...that’s something! You’re in there somewhere after all. Are you alright now?” And there was the expectant wait for some kind of answer. Scott didn’t know what to do with that. His chest still felt locked up, and he drew in tightly around himself all over again. He was fully ready to just curl back in and rock slowly to himself, but that gentle pat on the knee kept short circuiting him from doing so.
Scott’s shoulders shook slightly as he tried to fight it all back. He wasn’t okay, but he couldn’t say it and he didn’t know why he couldn’t say it but he couldn’t say it. Finally he just shook his head again, bringing a hand to his mouth. No talking. That brought a frown to Angel’s face, but he just nodded, finally letting go of Scott’s knee. “Well that’s better than nothing, I suppose.”
Scott wasn’t entirely sure if he agreed.
Road to Recovery, Pt 1
They weren’t the X-Men. No matter what they said. This wasn’t there. And they especially weren’t them. “Dr. Reyes” and ““Hank”” with their needles and medical equipment and trying to take readings on him. He had no proof, but there was every possibility that they were all the Diamond Doctor, Mister Sinister, Doctor Essex, Doctor so many doctors, so many people. He could be different people. Scott didn’t always remember him. Sometimes though...it didn’t matter. It was all just another test, another cruel elaborate test and if he gave in to it the rug would be pulled out from under him again. Not that there was a rug. Not that there was anything other than the reeling. There was no finding his feet. There was no anything. Just this, forever.
They could say what they wanted. He knew the truth, and he wasn’t going to take his medicine. So far they hadn’t tried to make him. Maybe because that was the one thing that’d managed to get any kind of reaction from him, and it hadn’t been a positive one. Kicking and pushing and fighting and screaming. But it actually did something. That was new. The first time in months that he’d had any choice in such a thing. Outside the window, the branches were still barren, no leaves, no buds, just a few remote slightly slushy patches of snow, separated by mushy looking ground. That didn’t quite add up. He didn’t really care, he just laid curled up on his side as tightly as he could. It was cold in here. He was so tired of being cold.
His visitors would come, and when they did, he’d squeeze his eyes shut so tight that all he heard was the rushing of blood in his ears. And then they’d leave, and he could just lay there again. Well, most of them would leave. There was still the constant in and out at the door, and he heard snoring somewhere off behind him. But maybe if he didn’t respond, this would finally end. Letting him think he’d gotten away, that his friends had come to rescue him after all, was one of the cruelest tests he’d faced yet. Still, it was odd that he felt cognizant enough to recognize that. Another first. More firsts all of the time. He watched Angel (The wrong Angel, the wrong “Angel.”) fly by outside the window.





