Chloe Markson (lyre_lyre) wrote in artofwar_rpg, @ 2011-09-27 13:05:00 |
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Entry tags: | {narrative}, †chloe markson; ruse |
Who: Chloe Markson
What: Chloe starts to deal with the fact that she's a mutant, tests her powers, and decides on a plan of action
When: Late September, shortly after meeting Ororo Munroe
Where: Lower Manhattan
Rating/Warnings: None except for word count
Status: Closed, complete
At first Chloe had simply hidden in her apartment, too paranoid to venture back outside. It was obvious the mutants had marked her for something, and strutting around in broad daylight seemed like asking to be captured. Considering they already knew at least her main two identities, would they really be fooled by a different hat? For all she knew, some invisible man was already lurking in the corner, keeping perverted tabs on her. Chloe shuddered and chucked a pillow at the wall, just to be sure.
What had she ever done to deserve this? Chloe fumed as she sat curled up on her bed, the covers piled in a protective wall around her. She was as much a mutant as Wilt Chamberlain was a dwarf. Frustrated, and a little curious, she held out her hand, pointed at the wall and willed some sort of explosion to happen. Nothing. So what, she was some kind of extra-deformed mutant? Not normal enough to be human, but not messed up enough to actually have any powers?
The mutant had told her she was a liar. Fine, Chloe probably deserved that for the cross-dressing. And also a lie-detector. That hardly qualified as special; anyone who knew enough to watch the eyes could do that. She didn't want to be grouped in with the freaks just because she knew a trick or two about body language. Chloe pinched herself. Still human as far as she could tell.
For almost a week that was the end of it. She went back to work, mingled with her coworkers, walked the beat, and all was well.
But then, she decided to go to confession. She hadn't gone for a couple months at least, and it seemed like the proper thing to do after working through so much doubt and fear; a way to cleanse herself and move past it all. She knelt at the grated screen and crossed herself, and the words flowed out of her so easily they were almost a song. "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit..."
Lying to her coworkers, lying to her family, skipping mass, taking the Lord's name in vain--she was halfway through the confession when, abruptly, she stopped. "Father? I... have a question."
"Yes?"
"Is it a sin to be a... mutant?"
The priest was quiet for a moment. "Being a mutant... is not a sin in itself. But one burdened with such a life must do his best rise above it, and not give in to the temptations of power. To live humbly and forgo any inhuman powers is the safest path to God's salvation."
"I was told... Someone told me I'm a mutant."
She heard the priest shift. "Are you?"
"I--I don't think so."
"Are you sure?"
"No." Chloe hung her head.
She could feel the priest hesitating on the other side of the grate. "Well, have you exhibited any signs of... abilities?"
"No." Chloe sniffed; she could feel her eyes watering. "But, this--this person told me I have."
The priest hesitated again. "If you have truly never showed any signs, I hardly think it probable you could be a mutant, as they say. But I urge you to think about this carefully. If there is any risk of you being a danger to others, turning yourself in to the proper authorities would undoubtedly be the safest course of action."
Chloe wiped her cheeks with her sleeve. "Yes, Father."
After awkwardly finishing the confession, she walked along the East River for awhile, ruminating. No one had tried to arrest her, yet. Then again, she'd gone to a church halfway across town just to make sure they wouldn't know her. She started to scuff her shoes along the sidewalk, then stopped, remembering she was Chloe and not Colin today.
So where to go from here? If she was honestly a mutant, she should turn herself in... right? But surely she wasn't really. Chloe sighed. She needed to find out the truth of the matter, and the only way to do that was to straight out test it.
There was a hotdog stand on the next corner, with a portly gentleman manning it. He was her target, she decided. And for the moment there was no one else around to overhear if she embarrassed herself terribly.
She walked up, raised her hand as if she were about to order, and then looked him dead in the eye. "I'm an alien from the planet Beelzebub. I eat candy and rhinestones for breakfast. Don't worry, I come in peace."
His eyes widened and he stepped back, dropping the tongs he'd been holding with a clatter. "Alien!"
"No, it's your Aunt Marigold! Shame on you, boy." She put her hand on her hip and gave him her best no-nonsense glare. "Didn't you promise you were going to clean your room this morning?"
He dropped his eyes, taking his cap off and mashing it between his hands in shame. "Sorry, Auntie, it's just that I was--"
"I'm kidding, I'm kidding, Maddy Stamos here, with the New York Times. You were going to do an interview on the concessions business?"
He straightened up and cleared his throat. "Ah, yes, ma'am, the interview, yes, I was thinking we should start with--"
She looked around, checking behind her to see if anyone was there. "Who are you talking to sir? I just asked for a hotdog..."
"Oh, right. Sorry, miss. Here you go, miss."
Chloe walked away, her heart heavy in her chest. She stared at her hands, now clutched tightly around a hotdog. It's true, a little voice whispered inside her, either you're a mutant or that is one very stupid man. "Sorry," she whispered in his general direction.
What were her choices now? Ignore everything and return to life as she knew it? That would be easy enough logistics-wise, and it wouldn't be the first time she'd lived with a secret or three. Or maybe she should just turn herself in. Maybe the government could cure her of this. Surely they had some super secret program for it. Or maybe they didn't--maybe turning herself in would just be the equivalent of going to jail, from what she'd heard. In all honesty, she probably deserved that, though. Chloe frowned.
Or, she could throw herself to the wolves. Run with the mutants themselves. The image of a helmeted mutant--Magneto--holding a nuclear sub in the air--flashed through her mind, and her stomach twisted oddly. She wouldn't lower herself like that.
It was no secret some other group of mutants had opposed Magneto. But, if she found them, would they depower her if she asked? Chloe already felt like she needed to go confess again, after rattling that man so easily. This, this power--it was an abomination in the eyes of God. That's what her mother would say, Chloe knew. Goosebumps crawled over her skin, and she crossed herself reflexively. And Mama would be right. She'd let herself become some twisted perversion of God's creation.
And she would fix it, she promised herself. She would pray--not wishy-washy little feelgood prayers like she normally did, but some honest-to-God praying for her soul--and then she would act. She would purge herself of this--even if it meant walking right into the heart of the mutant stronghold.