Celie Marianne Beaubier; Noir (behindtheblack) wrote in mutanthigh, @ 2009-02-15 12:47:00 |
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Entry tags: | angel, blindfold, marvel girl, xavier |
You Can't Push Fate
Who: Blindfold [Others can add their reactions]
When: Late Night Sunday/Early Monday
Where: New Orleans, LA (with a Psychic ripple covering most of America)
What: Blindfold pushes her abilities to try and find out more than she probably should. In answer, her powers kick it up a notch and alert most of the world to her existence.
OOC: Pretty much anyone with psychic ability should be able to feel at least a twinge of this even if they don't spend much time thinking about it. It happens extremely quickly.
It was Sunday night, far closer to Monday morning than it really should have been with Blindfold still awake. Sitting in her bedroom above the shop, she had her legs crossed, her bo laid out on the floor in front of her. Hands clasped in the space left before her body, she looked like she was meditating and perhaps she truly was. It was hard to tell whether she was awake or not. Madelyne had found her sleeping in a very similar position on a few occasions. All the older woman had found about when the girl sat like that was that she found it easier to focus her inner sight to see what was supposed to be out there for her. The sensation of people proceeding toward her was still strong, so strong that she could practically feel the hands gripping her. Skin sliding against skin, voices babbling in her ears, fingers in her hair, breath in her face. Bodies that gave off warmth close enough for her to truly feel, feverish hot.
Fingers woven together gripped more tightly as she forced herself not to withdraw from this whatever it was. Blindfold rarely tried to force her ability to show her something. Like an athlete that could sense the moment before the muscles cramped, she generally pulled back before she could do any damage to herself. However, also like an athlete, she knew there was sometimes something to be found on the other side of that pain. The question was, as always, how worthy it was that thing on the other side? Would it be worth the pain and the knowledge that she could possibly burn herself out and ruin her livelihood for one could only guess how long?
Deep breath and then slowly letting it out, a long slow whistle of breath that she knew wouldn't wake Madelyne fast asleep down the short hall. The woman was snoring, had been for over an hour, probably aided by several glasses of strong wine as was her custom. She thought her charge didn't notice the scent on her breath in the morning, but Blindfold noticed. The girl kept her mouth shut. Truthfully, no matter how often she seemed to strain the limits of respect when it came to how she spoke to Madelyne, the woman was still her mother and caretaker. There were still some things that she simply did not mention. The other thing that she didn't mention was that she knew where Madelyne went on Saturday night and the fact that she was going to be in too deep to the wrong people for her gambling if she wasn't careful. Ruth had never made any attempt to see Madelyne's future, the need to try and protect her 'mother' from it would have been too strong. Just as she had wanted to protect Remy from the future she had seen for him. Things happen to people for a reason. That was perhaps the earliest and most painful lesson that Blindfold ever learned. She had seen her parents' death in front of the truck just seconds before it happened. She had tried, desperately, to warn them of what she had seen. The crash happened anyway.
If her parents were still alive, what would her life be like now? Would she have ever met her current family? Her abilities did not extend to being able to see multiple versions of the future, only the future based upon the events which had already occurred. So she couldn't see what her life would have been like, only imagine. Her mother and father loved her for as long as they lived. To her recollection, she had never seen them fight, not even in the things she saw in her past visions of them when she wished for nothing more than the feeling of her being held to her mother's neck and rubbed on the back to make everything all right.
Unbidden, the song her mother sang to her back in the cradle came to mind. A French lullabye. If Blindfold could have shed tears, she might have, but her tear ducts were sealed. The story of her life, wanting to and being unable. She wanted to cry, but couldn't. She wanted to protect those closest to her, but she couldn't. It made her feel powerless. "W'at gud isit," she said to herself, tightening her fingers until she could feel her nails biting into her flesh. She could see the future, but she couldn't effect it. Shattered bits like watching a scene through glass that had spiderweb cracked without collapsing. Faces she couldn't quite make out, names she didn't really hear, scents which faded so fast she couldn't be sure they were ever really there.
Grinding her teeth, she pushed her mind to concentrate on a single aspect of the awareness, the sound. It came up then in a rush, the sound of crackling. With it, heat, burning heat, the kind that powdered flesh and shattered bone. It was all around her, the smell of burning, the feeling of it. The air in her lungs seemed to be suddenly gone and she gasped in pain. Now that she had opened the door, it was like a backdraft, it ran over and through her, so real that it might have been happening in that moment. The shop was burning. Madelyne's was burning. Her nerves screamed and Blindfold finally did the same, screaming into the night. Her telepathy took that moment to reach out as hard as it could, reaching for someone to stop the pain. For terrifying second, it scrabbled against each and every psionically active individual over the Gulf Coast and up the Eastern Seaboard, a feat that she wasn't capable of under normal circumstances. A telepath as far away as Portland, Oregon claimed to have felt the sudden snap of someone screaming, but then it was gone.
Like a star collapsing, it disappeared as if it had never been leaving behind not even a glimmer.
Madelyne was shaking her, her hands at Blindfold's shoulders, bodily shaking her so hard that her head was snapping back and forth. "RUTH!" Even Madelyne didn't call her that anymore. It was chil' or Blindfold, never Ruth. Truth be told, the girl hated that name anymore. It reminded her of a time before all of this. Before the terrifying awareness that she was going to be forced to forever carry the burden of not only the past but also the future. With a quick motion, Blindfold grabbed her wrists and stopped the old woman from giving her whiplash.
"Madelyne, stop s'akin' me," the eerie calmness that she usually exhibited were back even as she made the realization that one of the smells she had been smelling was flesh.
"Chil', ya was screamin'." Leaning forward, Blindfold kissed her mother on the face and then threw her arms around her neck, an awkward gesture. She already knew there was nothing she was going to be able to do to save her.
"Ah'm right as rain," a false smile appeared on her lips. "Mighty fine," and no one could have known that she had felt death press his clammy fingers to her neck again. "Ga back ta bed, Madelyne." With that, Ruth got up herself and headed to the tiny kitchen to get a glass of water. Her head was pounding, her mouth utterly dry. Leaning against the sink, she tried to block it out again. Forget the smell of burning flesh and the knowledge that her home, the only home she truthfully remembered was going to be demolished in fire. All of this and she still had no idea about who was coming. A glass of water and 20 minutes of just letting her nerves settle later, she finally climbed into bed. Her headache had yet to subside.