Kier Keaveny is no ghost in a shell (dislocation) wrote in invol_rpg, @ 2013-01-10 20:22:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! log, ! plot: kidnapping, kieran keaveny, rashida mazibuko |
WHO: Kieran Keaveny and Rashida Mazibuko
WHAT: Two friends do the friends thing
WHEN: BACKDATED Jan 6th, 2013, afternoon
WHERE: Medical ward, IVI
WARNINGS: A lot of fidgeting, Rashida is blunt
STATUS: log complete.
Kier had shaved his face but had ultimately decided against cutting his hair. He had it tied back away from his face as he filled the time in the medical bay with a puzzle book. It wasn’t what he really wanted to be doing, but no one would still let him do much yet, even if he felt better. The deep, heavy aching in him had finally started to dissipate and he no longer looked or felt like he was on fire, but he was still tired and still wasn’t eating particularly well. Bed it was. He twirled the pencil between his fingers like a majorette, pensive over his Calcudoku. ==== Rashida was nervous enough to meet Kier again (what did you even say to someone who had been kidnapped?) that she saved it for late afternoon, going off with Sadie a bit first. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see him, she just didn’t know what to say. Or what he’d look like. She’d seen Mette and Padraig briefly, before they were taken away, and neither of them had looked particularly good. From what Anthony had said the American rescues weren’t much better off, and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little hesitant as she knocked on the door. “Hey,” she said, trying to sound like this was just any visit, at any time. (Kidnapping? What kidnapping?) “I’m really shit at knowing what to give sick people,” so not the right phrase, but when had she ever been good at this stuff? “who don’t want ice cream or chocolate, so you just get me. Sorry. It’s your own fault.” ==== The most obvious change to Kier was that he was definitely thinner, even shrouded in his own pajamas. He looked up from what he was doing and gave Rashida a wide smile that he didn’t quite feel. If he was honest about himself, his emotions were all over the place, bouncing equally between anger, sarcasm, brightness and levity. If he’d complained about not knowing how to be a prisoner, he could just as easily complain about not knowing how to be a released captive either. “If you ever admitted to having people skills of any kind, Rashida, I’d wonder if you were a pod person,” he replied winningly, keeping the pencil but tossing the book at the edge of the bed. ==== “You know me too well,” Rashida said, plopping down on the edge of the bed. Only belatedly she realised that he might be injured somehow, and that throwing herself on him might be a bit... painful. “Sorry. Did that hurt?” Yes, she really was awful at this. Most of all she wanted to hug him, being so relieved to see that he was, if not quite himself (hair too long, body too thin, eyes different somehow) so at least here. In one piece. She wasn’t very good at hugging, though. And what if he didn’t want her to? Maybe he’d become all non-touchy over the last couple of weeks. She’d never worried about anything like that before, and she kind of hated that she was. It made things even more different than they could’ve been. “This is too fucking weird,” she said plainly. “Isn’t it?” ==== He shrugged and gave her a weak smile. “Pretty much. I don’t know what to do or say either, so... makes two of us. But, uh, no. It didn’t hurt. Over a lot of that, fortunately,” he explained, unable to be too cool about that. He brushed some strands that had escaped his ponytail behind his ear. “How did you like playing superhero?” he asked, picking up the stupid high-calorie milkshake he was now obligated to suck down and taking a sip. ==== “Good.” She bit back yet another ‘I’m shit at...’ statement. She’d never realised how often she did that, but he wasn’t the first one who pointed it out. Nor the last, probably. “If everyone thinks it’s weird, maybe it’ll be less weird. Or we’ll all be stuck in a loop of weirdness that never ends. Though we kind of already were.” Nightmares, kidnappings, forcefields, powers. Yeah, life had been weird for some time. “Thought it’d be cooler.” That was the honest truth. Playing with guns and stuff. “Mostly it was really fucking scary. At least before Myra... well. Died. She negated our powers, so we had nothing. But –” It was horrible, admitting that you were relieved that someone had died. Rashida hadn’t known Myra, though, and if that hadn’t happened even more of them might’ve been fucked. “But I did learn to shoot a gun,” she added, trying to sound upbeat about it. “So that was pretty neat.” ==== He dreamed of having one while he was there, he remembered. Something large gauge, a rifle instead of a handgun. The sounds of loading, of clicking the safety, cold steel on the barrel and warm wood on the grip. He hadn’t dreamed of killing his captor, but he dreamt of the thing that would have allowed him to. The thought of Myra, the girls who’d died, made him tense up. He stretched his shoulders back, trying to pass it off as just shifting but really just feeling the bones shift ever so slightly out of the sockets. He was okay. Everything was fine. Things worked. “Wish they’d let us do more of that here. Maybe they will now.” ==== Talking about a dead girl in front of someone who’d been kidnapped was clearly a great idea. Rashida was full of those. Though maybe pretending it hadn’t happened was worse? Kier knew as well as her who had died. It would’ve pissed her off like nothing else to be coddled. Maybe it was the same with him. Of course, Rashida had always had trouble with the difference between being straight with someone and being straight down insensitive. She should probably work on that. “I’d like that,” she said, trying to breeze past the discomfort she just sort of... assumed was there. “I could hold my own, but I’d like to be better at it. Just in case.” Because you never knew. That was the fucked up reality they were living in now. Oh joy. ==== Some thoughts about that passed through his mind quickly, but didn’t end up making their way to his tongue. Just in case. That was his life now, he guessed. Get a chip, just in case. Learn to shoot someone in the face, just in case. It was horrible but at the same time, he’d long since latched onto the idea that he couldn’t just fuck around anymore. His powers may be of no use to anyone else, but they were sure as hell useful to him and he was going to better defend them next time. There would be a next time. He didn’t know how he was going to lie to Keith about that. “Wonder how long before they get rid of any pretense this is a school.” ==== “They’re probably the only ones still believing it is,” Rashida said, pulling a face. “Most of us knew it from the start.” They did try to mask it, she had to give them that. People with less active powers didn’t get to learn defensive stuff, unless you counted the physical exercise, and clearly that wouldn’t make a difference, should someone really want to hurt them. “But things are getting seriously fucked up, so maybe even they will figure it out.” Rashida still didn’t know if she was going to get the chip removed, now that she could. She’d been determined to, just a few days ago, but now... Yeah. It wasn’t as easy of a decision now, that she’d seen what could happen if you didn’t have one. ==== Kier had not been one of those people. He’d been on his way to college and there had been classes here and dorms and so, yeah, it probably wasn’t like Gonzaga but it was collegiate. He didn’t have much of a doubt that they’d put classes back in session, but if the point of college was to prepare you for the future, and the future was made up of being attacked and shut out of the rest of the world, then classes on Spanish and Literature weren’t exactly doing their job. His thoughts were distracting enough that he didn’t reply anything to Rashida, instead just sort of blankly watched the pencil roll over the back of his knuckles and around each finger in quick succession. He didn’t like to think that’d be his life, but he’d thought about the Air Force when his basketball scholarship was still an uncertainty. That life would have been training for combat full time with the promise of the GI Bill at the end. Maybe it would be exactly like that and he’d just have to wait it out. After all, he’d already been to the brink of death, been a POW practically. What was he afraid of still? ==== Yeah, Rashida hadn’t come here willingly, and she’d resisted becoming part of the little vol army she was sure IVF wanted them to form, but when it came down to it she’d gotten that chip and she’d joined up to fight for them. It had been for her friends, though. She wasn’t particularly close to any of the students in Asia or Europe, but she’d wanted to do her part. She hadn’t even hesitated before deciding. Maybe she was ready for their army after all. If that was what it took to stay safe, to protect her friends and give the assholes out there the finger, maybe she would do it. She’d already decided to stop resisting after all. To let them run her life. That was before this last little adventure, though. Everything had changed over the last two weeks. Trying to break free and go on the run felt so very long ago. “I tried to run away,” she said suddenly. “Thought IVI was the bad guys. Stupid, right? Now...” She shrugged. “I guess things are different.” Rashida pulled her hair back and wrapped a hair band around it, making a messy ponytail. This whole situation – feeling this way, being this twitchy, Kier in this bed, looking so very different – made her feel strange and she hated it. Hated being scared. Hated seeing him like this. Hated having to crawl behind a forcefield to feel safe. Hated everything about it. “How are you feeling?” she asked, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. “Is there anything I can do? I mean, besides sitting her and talking about myself like an idiot. That I can do any day a week.” ==== The pencil stopped moving. “I don’t know. I’ve been out of the loop, so I guess I don’t really mind.” Which was to say he didn’t mind at all - you avoided talking about things that were real while imprisoned and the world had just continued anyway. And he had no words to talk about himself anyway, so... “So you tried to run away. Let’s hear this grand plan of yours.” ==== “Not minding me talking about myself is probably a necessary thing if you want to hang out with me,” Rashida said, a statement more than anything else. She knew it was true. She had her faults, she had her awesome sides. Lately she’d focused more on the former, but that was just the way it was. It wasn’t like life was all sunshine and kittens right now anyway. “I didn’t have much of a plan. You know me. Do first, think later, be smacked down. It’s what I do best. Just figured I’d be faster than them if I did it at night. Would’ve been, probably, if the bracelet hadn’t been so damn hard to get off.” She wasn’t quite looking at him as she said it, because in light of all this shit? Yeah, it had been stupid. It had been even worse not telling Dani about it, but it wasn’t like she’d known there was a kidnapping plot in the making. If she had, she probably wouldn’t have done it. Or avoided mentioning to her friends she was actually back at IVI so they had to worry. “Whatever, I’m an idiot. That’s not exactly news to anyone.” ==== “Faster than a speeding bullet?” he chided skeptically as he idly rotated a wrist, feeling the two bones in his forearm helix one direction, then another. That motion had appeared to lose the sharp twinge that had gradually improved since he’d come back to IVI; a large part of him still felt the need to constantly check to make sure that he still worked the right way. An even larger part couldn’t give a fuck if Rashida thought it looked weird. “Did you run off with your girlfriend?” he asked with a slight smirk, doing the other wrist. ==== “Shut up,” Rashida said, but there was something so normal in that smirk, in that tone of voice that she instantly relaxed. “But – yeah. She sort of insisted and... I missed her? Don’t look at me like that!” Things with Charlize were so weird. Had always been weird. Even as friends they’d fought and made up three times a week, never quite agreeing, yet being unable to stay away from each other. The kidnapping drama and all the news reports about it had made it easier than usual to be forgiven for signing off the computer when she said ‘I love you’ (apparently not a normal reaction to that sort of thing), but it wouldn’t last. It never did. “I still don’t know if we’re exes or dating or just really gropey friends,” she said, feeling weird for talking about it. He’d just been kidnapped and she was talking about her love life? Who even did that? “But –” She shrugged. “We’re both really bad at not making out with other people it seems, so maybe it’s a good thing we don’t know. Love is weird. Or maybe I just don’t get it.” Rashida moved back towards the foot of the bed and leaned against the foot board, putting her legs up on the edge of the bed. It felt a bit better, sitting like that. Like things weren’t all wrong and backwards. Like she didn’t have to be on the edge of her seat, because she’d say something wrong any minute and have to leave. “How was your break? The road trip and all that?” ==== “I swear to God you make things too hard on yourself. Did you bring a picture to make Dani jealous?” This was a motion he could go through, but when she brought up his time at home, it made him button up again. It was practice by now, in a way, not to mention things that were close to home. Even now, knowing he was going to see them soon, it made him think he was never going to see them again and it hurt with a phantom ache. He hoped she just ignored his gap in response and got all indignant about his comment. ==== Rashida did notice that something wasn’t quite right (he loved that stupid truck of his, he could talk about it forever), but she was happy to breeze past it, because honestly, she didn’t want to get up right now. She felt like she’d just found some sort of level of not fucking up too bad, and she was happy to pretend that was the case as long as he was. “I don’t think Dani gives a shit,” she shrugged, and quite honestly so. Deciding not to go there with her friend had made things easier, though she was still confused as to whether she’d liked Dani because she reminded her of Charlize, or if she liked Charlize again because she reminded her Dani. Maybe she just had a type. It was hard to tell. “But she got so worried about the running away part that we didn’t really... have time. To talk about exes. Or whatever.” The fact that they’d been in a safehouse trying to locate their missing friends had been part of the hurried reunion, but she left out that part, noting not for the first time today that hanging out with Kier had never required that much thinking before. She needed to give him time, though. Even she could manage that. Hopefully. ==== He reclined back against the pillows and took another sip of the protein shake. “She’ll get over it. I’m back now - real life can resume,” he said sarcastically. The world had gone on without him and that wasn’t maddening or surprising or anything really. It just was. So many gaps in time, space, life. Everyone had gone on one track and he’d been derailed and now he was back on the same rail and you couldn’t look back because you were already going forward. Everyone carried you forward. “Tell me about her? Charlize?” ==== She wanted to say something about having worried about him and all that, but that only brought them back to badness and they’d had way too much of that already. If he wanted her to talk about Charlize, well, then she would. “She’s on my soccer team back home,” she started. “Moved into town when we were thirteen, I played centre mid, she was our striker, we worked great together. We became friends, then we got drunk, then we made out and then it just kind of... happened.” There was a lot more than that, of course. A lot more. But how did you even begin to describe the difficulties in realising you were a lesbian with parents who told you being out was dangerous and should be avoided? To a straight dude, of all things. No, she’d just skip that part. “She was the only who knew about my power for a long time. It was pretty awesome. Except every time we had a fight, which was pretty often actually because it’s just how we do it, she’d threaten to tell on me and then one day I fucked up a little too much and then she did. And I ended up here.” As much as Rashida liked talking about herself and how awesome she was, she really wasn’t used to telling people about her feelings. And this whole thing with Charlize was nothing but feelings. Most of them confusing too. Talking about this stuff was weird. Especially with Kier, because it wasn’t what they did, really. Or they never had before, anyway, unless you counted his sarcastic remarks about her crush on Dani. “When I went home over break it turned out she’d forgiven me. Everyone else were being utter bastards and basically it was just me and her. And it was nice. For a few days.” It had been. A little too nice. A little too comfortable. “And then they sent me back here and she told me she loved me and it was just – too much. I got a bit distracted by shit going down but when we got back here I had like five emails waiting of her yelling at me about what she’d read in the papers and stuff and now...” Rashida shrugged. “I don’t know. It doesn’t really matter, does it? So much other stuff to worry about.” ==== He listened but didn’t listen to the story, swimming in and out of it as one of the annoying bouts of exhaustion swept over him. He was so ready to be done feeling like this. Kier kept his eyes open and tried to pay attention to Rashida’s story of back and forth. Sounded volatile, which was about Rashida’s speed, he thought. It was such a stark contrast to his own ex-relationship, which was about the easiest thing to handle in the world. “I guess not,” was his only response because he wasn’t really sure if it did matter. I mean, it mattered to Rashida, obviously. But South Africa was a million miles away and if they were bringing the house down on Vols, maybe it was better for her to stay out of the complication. Maybe it was better for Gen, too. “I think I’m gonna knock out again for awhile.” ==== “I knew that story would knock you out cold,” Rashida said, but there was nothing harsh behind the words. If anything she’d succeeded in her mission – to talk until he forgot about everything awful that was going on. Sleep would do that. Unless there were bad dreams. Also a possibility. She slid off the bed and in a rare moment of, well, actually showing weakness or maybe just acting like a human being, she walked up to him and gave him a quick, one armed hug. “I’m so fucking glad you’re back,” she said. “Get better soon. Please.” ==== And that was maybe the strangest thing of all - to get a hug from Rashida. He must definitely look like a wreck. He returned the hug in much the same fashion, although maybe lingered a bit too long - contact, along with checking his capabilities, also seemed to be a Thing. “I will. I will.” And he was. |