|
Post by Everyone Else on May 18, 2009 12:13:08 GMT -5
::The sting from earlier that day, where Manuel's captors had mocked his mutant alias, made him reluctant to give it to her. But he had no shame of his birth name, and she had rescued him, thus making an obligation in some way.:: "Manuel."
|
|
|
Post by Shade on May 18, 2009 12:49:32 GMT -5
Shade didn´t know whether she had expected a reply, nor what sort of a reply she had thought she would get. He gave her his birth name, leaving her clueless about his actual powers that she might have been able to guess had he given her an alias. If he had one. He might have his reasons to decide otherwise.
“I´m Emily.” she said, following his example of keeping aliases out of the conversation. She didn´t exactly know why she did it, but when she had come to New York all this time ago, she had replied to the first question about her name with an alias, a name that had not felt like herself, but like something she could hide behind. A name that had only been used by Jimmy. Now it was different. “Emily” felt less like her real name after all this time of nobody but her parents who she visited now and then using it. It gave her the feeling that she was granting something, but keeping more hidden. After all this time she felt more like Shade and less like Emily. Emily had been her old life, one that she had left behind then and that had started to fade away by and by, feeling strange now whenever she dipped back into it on her sporadic visits. A name that was safe to give away. Even to a stranger.
She listened again and believed to hear the faint tap of feet somewhere over her head. She stiffened for a moment, ready to brace herself to use her powers again if need be.
|
|
|
Post by Everyone Else on May 19, 2009 11:49:48 GMT -5
"Thanks for the rescue," ::Manuel said, after she gave him her name. It was as though they had a "moment," exchanging their given names together in a hotel room. If he ignored his fatigue and the pain he felt all over, and ignored the emotions rolling off her...it was too much effort for a fantasy. Particularly when a moment later he felt her tense and forced open an eye.::
|
|
|
Post by Shade on May 19, 2009 15:17:44 GMT -5
Shade remained frozen, feeling the hair on her neck stand on end and her heartbeat quicken again nervously, before she realised after a long moment that the footsteps she faintly heard above them were walking away, not closer. She exhaled a forced breath, only then noticing how tense she had been and looked at her companion, finding his eyes open.
“Welcome.” she said. “it was… kind of an accident that I was there though so cudos go to fortune.” The words she chose would have been fitting for a lighter tone than the one she was using right now and someone who knew here would recognize those words as some sort of humour she would use but notice the difference in attitude. Accident, she thought, was probably the best way to describe it. She had no idea how it had gotten into her to look for Shona here of all places and she still didn´t know whether she should be mad at herself or glad that she had trod in on all this. This was probably something she would have to think about later. Now it was too much effort.
|
|
|
Post by Everyone Else on May 21, 2009 8:58:15 GMT -5
::That did not explain how she had happened upon Manuel's room in the first place, but it did tell him that she had not been searching for him, which meant that he was only on the mutant-hating list and not on the list of mutants who need rescuing. If there was such a list; he knew of mutant freedom fighters but did not know how they operated. He nodded slightly to acknowledge the comment, but did not do much else as he needed to lay still and recover.:: "It's the best accident to happen to me in a while."
|
|
|
Post by Shade on May 21, 2009 10:46:16 GMT -5
Shade managed to crook a smile at the irony that the most fitting reply to that comment would be: ´and it´s the worst accident that´s happened to me in a while´. She didn´t say it aloud, thinking that since she didn´t know the backround of this guy´s imprisonment, it might not be too sensitive a thing to say. That and her outward composure seemed more at ease than her turmoiled emotions and joking only came with feeling comfortable for her. She was too tense for that kind of thing, her mind never coming to rest but trying to come up with something. Her instincts told her to run, reason telling her that like that she would be out of harms way in less than two minutes most likely. Her consciousness forbid her that. Now that she had – albeit involuntarily – rescued the guy, Manuel, she felt kind of responsible to see him away from danger as well. It was a naïve thought maybe but that didn´t matter. Just as little as it mattered that she knew nothing about him or that these killers upstairs were probably every bit as merciless as she imagined them to be. But her emotional state held her back. That and curiosity. Maybe Manuel knew something about them. Maybe at some later point that could be of help.
“Do you know anything about them?” she asked after a moment of silence in which she once more tried to sort her thoughts. “where they are from and how many there are of them? Did you get any names?” She had no experience in such things but something told her that information was always good and another part of her told her that at some later point she would have to consider further steps and ask for help and that when she came to that, it would be good to know as much as possible.
|
|
|
Post by Everyone Else on May 22, 2009 11:14:23 GMT -5
::Manuel could not fault her for wanting details; she had saved him from an experience that could have killed him and had risked injury or death to herself in the process. As well, she had a reason he could not fathom, but realized was a deep motivator, as far as her emotions revealed. He hardly knew everything about them, particularly their organization, but he had learned quite a bit about the two of them.:: "I don't know where they come from, but there were two that took me. One is named Harry; he is far smarter than the psychotic one who was chasing us. That one is Steven, and he likes to hit people."
|
|
|
Post by Shade on May 22, 2009 15:50:17 GMT -5
That wasn´t much, Shade thought with slight disappointment, at the same time wondering whether she had been naive enough to expect him to serve her names and adresses on a silver platter. Harry and Steven – names that were common enough to match with hundreds and thousands of people, even in that combination. Still, it felt weird to finally give the men that had hidden their faces under masks more than two years ago names. It didn´t feel right that they had names at all. Humans had names. Beasts usually didn´t.
She began to feel even more restless, only dimly noticing that she had recovered a lot more in recent moments and got to her feet. Sitting on the floor made her feel vulnerable. She walked over to the dirt stained window that was veiled shabby curtains. “Sounds an awful lot like every second Average Joe. The names I mean.” She murmured, more to herself than to him, meaning no offence in her words. She didn´t blame him. These names might be real of fake and she wondered whether it even mattered. But she had faces, too. And those faces she would not forget.
|
|
|
Post by Everyone Else on May 25, 2009 13:11:24 GMT -5
"It's fitting in a way," ::Manuel mused after a minute. He hadn't had the time to give the situation thought apart from trying to escape, being in pain, and plotting revenge. But it was fitting for the two of them to have names average of every other American. They were all part of the same vicious cycle when it came to harming mutants. It reminded him of what he'd been considering before he kidnapping.:: "All of the humans around us have problems with mutants anyway."
|
|
|
Post by Shade on May 25, 2009 15:21:23 GMT -5
Shade had been looking at some point ahead of her, her thoughts drifting this way and that during their conversation, but now she looked at him again. He sounded like someone who had made quite some bad experiences. “Not all of them.” she said. Well, frankly, she didn´t really have any contact to non-mutants here which, thinking about the fact was logical as it was strange, therefore she couldn´t tell for the average New Yorker, but she could tell as someone who had not found resentment when she had discovered what she was. Her parents, her family, her friends, they had never meen anti mutant.
|
|
|
Post by Everyone Else on May 26, 2009 10:11:20 GMT -5
"Most of them, at any rate," ::Manuel said, not feeling corrected by her opinion. He rubbed his eyes, in a vain attempt to coax them to open.:: "I was abducted in the middle of a busy street, and nobody lifted a finger to help me."
|
|
|
Post by Shade on May 26, 2009 10:25:08 GMT -5
Shade kept observing him, wondering what had led to such a dark attitude. “You don´t look like a mutant.” she stated. “so the complaint would rather go to a society that doesn´t bother about anything than to one that doesn´t mind mutants being abducted.” It was usually like that. Most people just went with the flow without a hateful attitude.
|
|
|
Post by Everyone Else on May 26, 2009 10:50:14 GMT -5
"I live openly," ::Manuel replied, and his response was a simple fact, free of bitterness for the moment. That would come later.:: "They took me in my own neighborhood."
|
|
|
Post by Shade on May 26, 2009 11:05:55 GMT -5
That was something Shade could relate to. She, too, had never made a secret of her mutation. Her neighbours, her friends, people at school, they had known. Had she been bitter, she would have seen this as the fact that had eventually led to a small anti mutant activist group to try and track her down so they would in the end kill her little brother who had not really dared to show openly what he was. But she wasn´t that bitter. She had never really been.
“I´m sorry.” she said. “and I know that probably doesn´t mean much to you and it doesn´t excuse anything, but that´s how people usually behave when they are scared.” Most people would not interact, scared they could get in the way. A cowardly behaviour but socially understandable. And common through time.
|
|
|
Post by Everyone Else on May 26, 2009 11:31:34 GMT -5
::Manuel continued to rub his eyes with his thumb and forefinger; it may appear rude, as though he were stressed, upset, or offended by what she had to say, however, it was his necessary attempt to coax and keep them open in the face of the toll on his body. To her comment, he shook his head; yes, he understood how people behaved when they were frightened, but he was tired of it. Certain behaviors had no excuse, and the reasons only cast the individuals in worse light, such as *not* coming to the rescue of a person being beaten and abducted in the middle of the street.:: "Needles to say, I think I'll be moving when I get out of here."
|
|