#v. mutant

[audaciious]

Starter for @amused-bouche for Jez

Crescendoing voices drowned out the lyrics of the song playing over the bar's stereo like crashing waves, only occasionally disrupted by the crack of colliding billiards. As the night drew on, the dance floor grew more crowded, bodies writhing salaciously to the wild beat of the music, sweat exchanging between them like musky perfume.

Faye smiled as she watched the dancers bump and grind against one another, seemingly unperturbed by the myriad of additional physical traits their partners may have had. Peeling her eyes away, she leaned against the bar and settled her gaze on the dark-haired stranger beside her. Something tickled the back of her mind, a familiarity that hadn't quite clicked yet.

"OH! Hey! I recognize you! You were down at the venue earlier!" Faye clapped her hands together before shifting to face him. "Never heard y'all before, but it was pretty damn good. Better than the others anyway. Y'all were far more energetic. Can I buy ya a drink?"

[ifyoucatchacriminal]

@lediableblanc-amoureuxdechats

She swallowed down the nerves, fingers dancing over the handle to the coffee shop door. Her skirt tangled around her legs in the wind, reminding her of their bare, recently shaved, status. It felt strange, having smooth legs, wearing a skirt, being in public. All of it. This was all new to her and she couldn't help but be nervous, unsure if she was ready to do this.

This- all of it- was something that she'd never entertained before getting sober, before realizing that there was something going on, before she took the time to really get to know her mind. It wasn't something that she'd wanted to do- any of it, but getting sober had forced her to confront a lot of things about herself, and the way her skin felt wrong, the way her name and identity rubbed her the wrong way- those were just the tipping point.

She'd thought she was losing her mind. Nothing else made sense. The feeling of being in the wrong body, like she'd been born wrong, was something she'd tried to dismiss as a side effect of the Dilaudid. But it didn't go away when she got sober. Not even now, after six months, had it gone away. She'd researched for hours, trying to figure out what was wrong with her, what she was dealing with. Nothing had given her the answers she wanted, not until she'd stumbled upon an autobiography of a trans woman. She'd devoured the book, and every book she could find on the subject, finally feeling like she'd found an answer.

It wasn't easy to accept, the thought that she wasn't actually a man, that she was a woman. She'd been worried for a month that she was sick like her mom, before she'd mentioned it to her therapist. Being told that she wasn't sick, that this wasn't schizophrenia, had helped something in her relax, but it still wasn't easy.

No one at work knew. She was going to tell Hotch. Soon. But first she wanted- needed- to know that she was right. Thus the coffee shop.

She'd worn a skirt at home, a long floral skirt that she'd bought at the thrift store, fabric rough against her leg hair. But she hadn't dared wear one in public, not yet. Now, though, on the recommendation of her therapist, she was trying. She'd gone shopping for an outfit just for this, a skirt and blouse that were more comfortable on her skin, the blouse floral but the skirt a deep purple. It matched her Converse, which was fine with her. She wasn't ready for heels. If she ever would be. Her hair had been getting longer, long enough to pass for a short bob when she used some of the gel Garcia had bought her. She'd slipped a headband on to keep her bangs back and told herself that she looked okay, that she looked like a woman.

She'd driven further into DC than she normally would, to a coffee shop and bookstore combo that she'd never been to before. Somewhere no one would be looking for her. She wasn't ready to be somewhere she might be recognized as him. Not ready to confront that. Not yet.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door, listening to the bell chime. There was a line in front of the counter and she slipped into it, standing behind a man a few inches taller than her, wearing a long brown trench coat and sunglasses indoors. She stared at his shoulder as she waited her turn.

Then the thoughts touched her mind, a fascinating mixture of French and English that she'd only heard in Will before, and she couldn't help it, she tuned in, paid more attention to those surface thoughts than the ones around her. He was barely awake, amusing, but determined to get coffee. There was something in there about a professor, a complaint, and a stray thought about craving a cigarette that almost made her open her mouth. She was so focused on her eavesdropping that she didn't realize there was someone behind her until she was stumbling forward, hand reaching out and tangling in the back of that coat as she caught herself on the man in front of her.

"Sorry," her voice was higher than she was used to, but she was experimenting with vocal training, trying to find something that felt right. "I- I was pushed."

Hazel eyes darted up, staring into those sunglasses. "I didn't- are you okay?"

[companypride]

@companywrath

Rhys had butterflies as he got into the elevator. His hands were shaking as he adjusted his clothes and smoothed back his hair for the twentieth time since he'd gotten the call. He couldn't help it. He was on his way to Handsome Jack's office.

Rhys had no idea why Jack wanted to see him. He'd started worrying he was in trouble the second Jack's secretary called him, so much so that he'd spaced out like an idiot and hadn't said anything until the secretary hung up. It had to do with Project ECHO, definitely. The only time Jack would ever have been made aware of Rhys's existence was when he visited the lab yesterday.

He hadn't said anything to him, but Rhys been sort of aware that Jack was paying attention to him. When Rhys could focus over the cacaphony of his own thoughts, which wasn't always, he could pick up on a lot. Jack had been looking at him--intensely, it felt like--but Rhys had convinced himself he was imagining things. Apparently not.

He couldn't help but be concerned. Had he made a bad impression somehow? Or--was it good news? Had Jack been impressed? Had someone finally noticed Rhys's diligent contribution to the company, his loyalty, all his hard work? Rhys didn't know how to feel. All his different thoughts talking over themselves made him dizzy and he leaned against the wall, hand over his mouth, trying to fight down the nausea rising in the back of his throat. The space felt like it was closing in around him. Someone was going to notice and he was going to get fired. Jack had noticed. That was what all this was about. He'd seen inside Rhys to the part that was broken and he knew Rhys didn't belong at his company.

The elevator dinged and scattered Rhys's thoughts, giving him a brief moment of relief. He hurried out of the elevator and tried not to stare too obviously at the decor of the executive suite. Jack had spared no expense. It was impressive. Probably as intended.

As Rhys came up to the secretary, all the little details about her registered rapid-fire, the way it did whenever he looked at someone. It went something like this: Working at a desk--secretary--long brown hair glasses red lips cashmere sweater typing fast short neat nails ring finger is longer than pointer finger weird oh she's looking at me better talk. It all happened in a second, and none of it was ever useful, just a barrage of pointless observations about everything he happened to notice. It gave him headaches. Rhys tried to act natural as he came up to her desk, but he was pretty overwhelmed and it was even harder to deal with his thoughts than usual.

"Um, I'm... Hi. I'm Rhys," he said. "Rhys Strongfork? You called me up... h-here?"

For a long second Rhys convinced himself it was all a prank and she was was about to mock him mercilessly for thinking he'd ever be worth the time of Handsome Jack himself--but then she nodded and picked up the phone. "Jack, the programmer you wanted is here. Should I send him in?"

Another long second during the space of which Rhys had a thousand worried thoughts, but Jack must have said yes, because she didn't kick Rhys out. Instead, she sent him in. Rhys swallowed as he opened the door to Jack's office, worrying about a million things, including how his hand might be sweating and then he'd be the guy who made Handsome Jack's doorknob sweaty--and then the door was open and he was stepping inside. It was real.

Jack's office was hugely impressive, in that it was huge, and it was impressive. It had its own water feature. Statues of Jack glared down at Rhys as he traversed the vast distance between the door and Jack's desk.

Rhys was scared to look at him. He kept his gaze down as he stopped in front of Handsome Jack himself. He still noticed a thousand things even when he was trying not to--the things on the desk, Jack's big hands, how amazing it smelled in here, Jack's big hand maybe touching Rhys--and no, no, no! He couldn't be thinking this kind of thing in front of Jack himself! He had to focus before he got fired!

Rhys looked firmly at his own feet. "Y-You wanted to see me, sir?"

[prettyvcnom]

@midnxghtfxghts​ 

rumor around the underground had it that adrien’s sister had managed to get herself there. adrien wasn’t sure why she had tried to find him. it was obviously too dangerous. he had just gotten back from a mission and had been told where he could find her. he made his way through the rooms until her found where she was. “arden.” he said, quickly moving to hug her which was a rare show of emotions for her. “why are you here?” he asked. 

[audaciious]

@amused-bouche said: "i need my head to stop spinning." Luxe for Syl. Perhaps it wasn't at her, perhaps it was.

The diner was surprisingly crowded, every booth and table filled with chatty patrons. They leaned in toward each other, twittering like lively birds in the trees. Even the bar was full, with only one or two seats left open between couples. A warm, energized air filled the space like early morning mist rising from the ground.

"Oh, is your head just spinning or is it hurting as well?" Sylvi asked, looking up from the journal she was currently pouring thoughts and drawings into. If he was talking to her, she was unaware, as his soft voice carried to her ears. A headache was easy enough to fix without anyone noticing anything strange or unnatural. A little touch and she'd siphon and take on the burden. It'd be a few dull throbs and her body would have it dealt with.

Of course, it had to be a headache. Spinning was something completely different, but she wanted to help. In a new town, she needed a friend.

[ifyoucatchacriminal]

@falliblexpenance continued from x.

Since Hankel, Spencer had been struggling. Before his capture, he'd had a grip on his mutation, had been able to ignore most of the intrusive thoughts that pushed their way into his mind, stolen from the minds of those around him. He'd always viewed his mutation like that, a thief stealing the thoughts of people near him, invading their most private place. It was a nuisance, being a telepath, and Spencer did his best to ignore it, to pretend he wasn't like this. He'd built up shields and pretended everything was fine.

Then Hankel injected him with Dilaudid and everything went to hell. The Professor thought that the drug had dulled his shields, made it difficult for him to keep them up. He also thought that Spencer was traumatized and therefore unable to build those shields again. He knew the Professor thought that having Hankel's mind be the one he was exposed to in such a vulnerable state had broken something, made it next to impossible for Spencer to even try to build shields again.

Spencer blamed the drug. The Dilaudid had been great for his pain, numbing him to the torture Hankel was putting him through, but it had made everything so much worse otherwise. When the team had finally rescued him, Spencer had almost been a babbling mess. Control hadn't come back since then.

He'd spent two weeks in his apartment trying to silence the mental noise before giving up and calling a friend, securing a place at Xavier's school for as long as he needed it. Xavier was great, but Spencer still hadn't managed a shield that silenced the voices. Xavier told him it would come with time, but Spencer wasn't sure it would. What if the Dilaudid had permanently altered his mutation?

He couldn't sleep even though he was exhausted. Xavier had given him a room in a quiet corner of the mansion, but he could still hear the passing thoughts of the students and adults in the mansion. Their dreams took over his night. Unfortunately there were plenty of nightmares in the mansion and coupled with his own, they left Spencer full of mental pain and anguish.

He was mostly asleep as he wandered the mansion, not really paying attention to where he was going. There was a quiet thread of thought that he was following, something strangely soothing. Spencer hadn't even realized what he was doing until Remy spoke. That woke him up completely and his cheeks flamed with embarrassment.

"I'm so sorry," he scrambled out of the bed, stumbling as he got to his feet. "I really didn't mean to. Your thoughts are just so quiet and comforting-" he looked away. "That was a huge invasion of privacy. I'm sorry. I'll go."

[ifyoucatchacriminal]

V. Mutant

Reb learned of her mutation when she was sixteen years old and she woke up in Henry's dream. She didn't know what was going on at first and freaked out, waking both herself and Henry up in the process. Henry, who had been around enough mutants in his life, recognized the signs.

When they realized what Reb's mutation entailed, Henry enlisted some of the elders to help him teach Reb how to meditate, how to know her mind, and therefore how to control what her mind did, even in sleep.

Reb's mutation is oneiropathy, the ability to receive, transmit and interact with the minds of others when dreaming. Reb has always called it dream walking. She has learned how to control it most of the time, but if someone around her is having a nightmare or dreaming of her specifically then she is likely to find herself in their dreams.

[ifyoucatchacriminal]

So if we assume Reb is a mutant, how does Henry feel about it? How did he feel about mutants before finding out about them? Does anyone he know/care about have pro- and/or anti- mutant sentiments?

Henry is accepting of mutants. He always has been, since the first time one of the other boys on the res expressed a mutation. Henry is of the mind that mutants came into being for a reason and it would be wrong to treat them as less human for something they cannot control.

There were stories when he was a boy of men and women who were just a little bit more. A woman whose fire was always lit, a man who could feel the path of the buffalo through the ground, tribes that were never without water because a number of their young could make it appear. They were not seen as being less than the others in the tribe. Their gifts were used to help everyone and they were honored.

Henry will always provide a safe space for mutants who trust him with their care, even when it means disagreeing with Walt. He made that decision when Reb's mutation manifested and she tried to hide it from him. Henry will not turn away anyone who needs him to provide them shelter. The Red Pony is a safe space and everyone knows it.