Who: Caspian & Fin What: First encounter Where: A stretch of Central Park When: February 12, late Rating: PG13 purely for language. Watch your mouth, Fin! Status: Complete
You call that graceful? Yeh? I’ve seen more grace in a banana peel layin on the street..
February was not doing anybody any favors.
The wind was brisk; like the spines of a cactus glancing upon flesh the breeze was comparable in some places. Any out and around were appropriately bundled, himself included .
It was achingly difficult to sleep - most of his days were filled aplenty with chasing nightmares, dreamscapes, hopes that never came to fruition. Night time was when the circus tended to allow its nest of oddities to spring forth into the world. The shadows did few any real favors but as any small boat cast adrift Caspian sailed into the sun with the intent of catching it. What a failure that was.
Across bitter, leaf strewn sidewalk he wandered. Nothing in particular caught his attention but that was alright with him. He did not want to leave an impression on anyone, no mark, no claim. Not really. Even his dating life was null - what small temptations he’d had crashed and burned as quickly as they illuminated. Ten years later and he was still dragging his way out of the bog Laura had left him in.
Finally he found a small bench that was not dredged in snowy powder and he sat down. Soon he would go find someone who yearned for Divinity but right now the moment was his and he allowed himself to wallow in the shadows.
Finley lived for nighttime - she had trouble sleeping most nights anyways, and someone with the sheer amount of energy Fin had little use for sleep. She was heading home - despite being an adult and all she still lived at home and she didn't want her mum to worry.
So she was vaulting her ass through the streets and parks. Dressed for warmth and as optimal movement as possible, Fin headed straight for a clear bench. She was going to jump right over it - it would be so sick. She'd have to show her mother, who she was sure did not appreciate Fin’s main method of travel - parkouring her way through New York.
Suddenly, though, someone was on that bench and she was going far too fast. “WATCH OUT!” She practically screamed and made the executive decision to try and clear it anyway.
Which she totally did. He was absolutely untouched. She, however, ate pavement hard in front of him. Sliding about half a foot forward with a muffled jacket on concrete scraping sound and an oof, Fin came to a full stop in front of the man in the bench.
“You alright?” She called, breathless, and now lying flat on her back.
He should have heard her coming.
The rampant onslaught of her mind should have deafened someone like him, the way her footfalls crushed the icy snow as her momentum carried her through the chilly evening toward him. But Caspian has let himself drown in the chasm of desperation again and thus had muted everyone and everything out for precious moments. Short lived was this event though it seemed to move in slow motion.
It was too late for him to move as she had advised - her voice was enough to shatter the silence into shards and it rang in his ears long after the words had fluttered away. He winced, braced for impact and much more concerned about her than himself.
Eyes squinted shut he waited and waited. Impact never came and when he opened his eyes to survey the scene he found her on the ground, flat on her back. He blinked, peering down at her with concern. “Mm, I shall live to see another day. Are you injured? The tumble you took seems rather impactful. And cold.”
He moved to stand, bending some to extend a hand down to her. She was young by the look of her, an age that had long since left him in the dust.
“Nope, totally fine! I've eaten worse shit before.” Which was not the best way to say she'd fallen plenty in her life, but then Fin had never really thought much before she spoke. The words came out of her mouth just as fast as she thought them.
Readying to pick herself up, she saw his hands come towards her as if to help. “Don't touch me!” She yelled again, just as loud as she was typically energetic and talkative. “I mean unless you want me to know what you've been doing tonight. Or to forget me immediately and have this awkward introduction all over again.”
Instead, she lifted herself up and brushed herself off before pulling a pair of gloves out of her pocket. Once they were on she extended a single hand. “I'm Finley. Sorry for nearly taking your head off but I was totally in a groove, right, like whipping through the city faster than I ever have and when I started for this bench you were totally not here yet, you know? And so I didn't have time to stop and colliding seemed like it might do more harm than good so I totally doubled down and went for it. Man, if only I landed properly that would have been SO epic don't you think? Did you SEE how much height I got!?”
It was a literal stream of consciousness that just threw itself out of her mouth.
“You sure you're alright though? I mean you're not going to call the cops right?” Because them she'd have to try and wipe herself from all their minds and that was hard. She wasn't good at that yet. The thought rang loud in her head, almost as loudly as she spoke.
Her mouth did not bother him in the slightest. Plenty of women lately had taken to swearing, to each their own. That was no business of his though a few dirty words made a woman no less in his opinion. His experiences outside of America had illuminated many a lass who could curse and drink with the best of the men.
What startled him was the next part out of her mouth. Not just the shout against touching her to which his outstretched has recoiled out of respect, but the next part. “Was this an awkward introduction?” He inquired of her, the words offering a bit of a distraction to give him time to process.
His mind touched hers, briefly. No intrusion, just tendrils of one strong mind brushing upon another that might not be such. “How could I possibly forget you, Finley,” he replied, hand extending out again - cautiously lest she shout again - and he shook gently. “Caspian. I did not get a chance to see you...well, I’m not sure. Was that a jump then?” He couldn’t sense abilities like that, it wasn’t how he operated but her mind seemed to give intel that wasn’t readily available.
The constant spew of verbiage didn’t phase him either, Caitlyn couldn’t say a thought before another popped into her mind.
“Why the devil would I — “ came the words and what was left was silence amidst the residual thought he’d picked up.
Could she? Was this — ?
“— call the cops?” The last part was offered into a mental connection, words filtered into her mind. It was a tiny peppering to see what she would allow. He could’ve opened her mind up if he had wanted to but this was much too fascinating and he had too much respect for other people who he felt deserved their space.
“I don't know many introductions that start with a girl flying over your head at top speed and landing extremely gracefully on her arse as being not awkward, but then I don't know your life, mate. That how you meet all your friends, then?” She half teased, her more native British accent finding it's way into her speech.
Checking herself over again, she lifted each knee up, bending a little to make sure nothing was broken. Everything felt good, all things considered. “It was most definitely a jump! I got SO MUCH air. Probably the second most I've ever gotten.” Said with very obvious pride, it was written all over her face and rang through her tone.
“You might forget me if I touched your skin, is all. It happens.” She shrugged. Maybe it was brazen confidence, or a sheer lack of world knowledge. Probably just her naivete that let her speak so freely about her ability.
“You’d remember eventually, but not fast enough for me not to have to explain to you what happened again.” It was an unfortunate side effect, and a bit of a gamble when she touched people. She had very little control over her abilities.
As for the cops, she shrugged. “I've noticed during my time here in the states that people are a bit less understanding of people nearly knocking them over. Technically speaking parkour can be considered reckless and dangerous to others. At least in the minds of people who haven't seen it before.”
Caspian smirked, “You call that graceful? Yeh? I’ve seen more grace in a banana peel layin on the street.” It was a bit of a tease if he was making it count. He had not actually seen the leap she had taken, what he had observed was her laying there on her back in the wet snow which was uncomfortable to say the least.
He’d let her hand go and his hands had found their way into his coat pockets for additional warmth.
And then his eyes narrowed a bit as he listened to the next part. “Alright, let me see if understand what you’re yammering on about. So, you are under the impression that if your skin connects with mine that I won’t remember anything for a while? That sound about right?” He didn’t care if she could breathe fire if he was being honest with himself, she was a child (even if she wasn’t an actual child she was still young enough to pass for underage).
“Probably best to keep that to yourself, love. Not so nice mutants wander about looking to take advantage of ones such as yourself. I’d hate to see that happen to you. Does your family know you’re prowling the streets, jumping over strange men in the park?”
He would bet money they probably did not know, or if they did they figured she was some
place safe and warm. That was what he would have believed had this been his daughter - one day it would be.
A dismissive wave was given by a hand lifting from a pocket when she mentioned parkour. That would be chatted about in a minute. He was still struggling with the fact that this young lady and he shared a similar power, one that was dangerous if not used properly and could be seen as a danger to those who didn’t know much about it. “You have mneumokinesis, darling. Same as me. I can make someone forget who I am, who they are, that they are.” He wouldn’t let on that he’d hurt people with it - murder was high up on the list of felonies he’d be sentenced to die for when his time came - he was sharing in the comradery.
“The first part was TOTALLY graceful dude, you have NO idea. You weren’t even watching!</i> She retorted, though there was no obvious anger on her face, she was enjoying the whole back and forth. Finley was just one of those people who found the fun and humor in any situation. This one, she didn’t need to try for. The whole situation was downright hilarious.
She listened to his summary of what she said, and shook her head. “No, not that you won’t remember anything, but that I’d be gone from it. You wouldn’t remember me, either for just a little bit or for… well I don’t know how long someone’s forgotten me for, that’s kind of a weird thing to ask someone and then like how would you ever know the answer? I’d have to keep asking the same person forever if they remembered me yet and eventually they would just from me being that girl who keeps asking if they remember me yet and that would defeat the whole purpose of the experiment. Though if I did really think about it I could probably figure out a way to test that if I really wanted to. I’m a big science nerd, I’m going to study genetics, I think, I don’t know yet I’m still just taking prerequisite classes.”
Finally, a small breath was taking - but before she could really go on about the literal nothing she was talking about, the words he was saying started to sink in. She laughed at the first bit, “They can’t catch me anyway, I run too fast. And yes, my mum knows. Whether she approves is an entirely different story but she’s well aware. Besides, I’m nineteen. I can do what I want.” Not that she would ever, EVER say that in front of her mother who she respected far too much to say such a bratty sentence to.
“You - I - mneumowhatsit? Do you really have that? No friggin’ way, mate I - like seriously? Do you think if I knew how to use it better I’d be able to do all that, too? Not that I would, I mean, how awful would it be to forget yourself? Forget that you even exist. That sounds terrible. Have you done that? Does it last forever? Wait - are you a dangerous man trying to take advantage of young naive mutants? Should I start running now because like, I’ll totally karate-chop you into next Tuesday and make my escape before you can even use a memory thingy on me. Do you have to touch someone for that to happen?” She took several steps back. “I do, all my abilities work through my hands.”
He chuckled. “Had you made yourself known beforehand perhaps I would have been able to experience it,” he chided softly, but not harshly. Whatever parkour was seemed to be a large thing to her and who was he to dampen her spirits? Young ladies should believe they can fly just the same way anyone else could. Whatever role he had in this was no less disastrous albeit interesting and comical.
“My dear,” he began kindly, shaking his head, “I would never forget you. Nor would you forget me. You couldn’t erase yourself from my slate if you tried.” That was the funny thing about mental abilities that Caspian had discovered; they were powerful, there was no denying that. It was like a double edged sword. You had little control and you were apt to be out of control, and if you had the utmost control you were unstoppable.
“Ay, so grown you are at nineteen.” Shaking his head at her, Caspian tutted a bit. He’d thought himself grown at the same age, out on his own trying to make a name for himself. It was how he’d ended up in his current predicament - a drug lord with a daughter. Never had he imagined this plight and now there was no turning back.
And then he laughed, “It is just a fancy way of saying memory manipulation. You and I seem to be akin in our gift.” He was shaking his head, holding his hands up at Finley, “Darling, if I meant you harm we would not have come this far. I mean you no harm and I have not used my abilities for ill purpose. I can assure you.”
“If you train your power you should not have to touch anyone. I find it invasive, to be honest, to have to physically touch another to use my gift. I could teach you, if you’re interested. I would hate to cross your mother, however.”
“I’ll yell faster next time!” She said, a boisterous laugh falling easily from her lips. It was quite obvious from her face, the way she stood, how she looked at things, that laughing came second nature to Finley. She was the type of girl who could find humor in any situation and never seemed to take things too seriously.
Now, Fin knew she wasn’t great at her abilities. She had been a late bloomer, so to speak, and had only really been working on control for the last four years. Still, she had difficulty with it - when she wasn’t wearing her gloves, for instance, the memories instilled in people and objects came whether she liked them or not. The only difference in that now is that she was pretty sure she’d seen, in one case, the future instead of the past.
Which was certainly its own mystery, which she would… probably think about sometime.
However, to hear someone tell her she couldn’t, well, that sounded like a challenge. “Oh? And why couldn’t I? - Wait, let me answer that, it’s totally because I’m young, look at you, I mean like, you’re ancient and clearly had a ton more practice and I barely discovered mine a few years ago, and I don’t know anyone who has any ability like mine or more like, mental based so it’s been difficult to learn the control and all that but like it’s whatever, you should totally see what I can do before you dismiss me like that because I’m like a total badass and you don’t even know.” She even, no joke, snapped her fingers. It’s probably time to walk away, Cas While you still can.
He was offering to teach her, though, and the thought of not having to touch people to do what she could do did sound pretty awesome. “Could you ALSO teach me how to like, NOT do it when I touch people, too? ‘Cause that’d be pretty fuckin’ sweet.” Pause. “Excuse my language.” Her mom HAD taught her some manners, of course. Fin just thought too quickly to remember to use them most of the time.
But her face fell at the mention of her mother because she was almost positive Nosah would not be thrilled at the idea of someone teaching her how to control her abilities. At least, not one she didn’t know. Nosah was quite protective. “It’s not like she’d find out. I can keep a secret.” She said, before letting out a heavy sigh. She didn’t actually like keeping secrets from Nosah. “Or you could meet her. I’m sure she wouldn’t like, try and kill you just for offering and then it’d be cool. I’m an adult, I don’t technically have to ask her, it’s just polite. And, you know, it doesn’t matter how old I am because blah blah I’ll always be her baby blah blah. You know, the whole parent routine. Or maybe you don’t, I don’t know your life. Anyway, she can be a little protective so it’s probably best to at least give her a heads up.”
With all of the playful banter he was intrigued but it felt wrong to proceed without the blessing of Finley’s mother figure. This was not his daughter and while the girl was of age to make her own decisions she had a constant figure in her life who was there to support her. He would have been upset at someone trying to guide his own daughter in a similar situation without having a say in it, nineteen or not.
“If it is important to you, I would feel more comfortable at least with your mother’s blessing to proceed with this. Dinosaurs that we are, we care for those of our own. If it was my daughter I would be livid if a stranger appeared from nowhere and tried to sway my daughter. Even if I’d did help her.”
Meeting Fin’s mother was the right thing to do. It might not end well but at least he could say that he tried.
His hands found the pockets of his coat again. “I can only teach you what you are willing to learn and practice.” It had to be up to her what she was able to comprehend. Young people tended to get distracted easily, put other things over the important things. But perhaps there was hope.
Well, he was a parent. That had to give him a point or two with Nosah. He even had a daughter, which meant that he knew how to deal with girls in a teaching/parenting way, right? Not that actually having children meant much - Fin knew that, and just as quickly as she thought that being a dad would give him a point, it disappeared. She had enough experience with bad parents to know that didn’t necessarily make him a good person. That just because he wanted to meet Nosah didn’t mean he wasn’t a bad guy.
Still, she wanted to learn more, and her proclivity to making bad decisions was certainly always outweighing her better judgement, her past experiences. She wanted to look on the bright side of things, believe the good in everyone. Fin almost never approached life with a sense of caution because she so strongly felt things would work out for the best. Fin would introduce Caspian to her mother, and Nosah would realize this guy was trying to help, and he would help her.
“I want to learn it all. My mum gave me a real good understanding of what I can do and how to control it, but our abilities aren’t the same. So they take different things. I’m not all memory based, either. I mean I guess in a way it is all like that, because when I touch things I guess I’m seeing a memory trapped in an object, or a person. Otherwise, though, it is pretty much memory mani- no, wait, mneumokinesis.” She corrected herself, beaming with pride at having remembered that awkward word.
It made sense that their powers weren’t exactly the same, his and hers; they were strangers first of all, and second they weren’t akin. Caitlyn would have his similar ability pattern, the girl had already shown signs of telepathy. Same as him. But she had something that he could relate to and it fascinated him to no end at all. But she was akin to someone with similar genetics.
And whatever powers she had other than the mneumokinesis he wasn’t yet sure.
“Whatever your gift is, I can help with some of it. The memory part, at least. I have telepathy, as well. Essentially I am constantly flooded with the thoughts of others, I’ve had to learn to mute them lest I become overwhelmed. I won’t promise you won’t get frustrated, or feel pain. That comes with the process.” Mental strain was a nasty thing. You were prone to nosebleeds, headaches, migraines. That was on the tamer end. He, himself, had experienced bouts of amnesia onset by his own virulent mental abilities. That would come later, lessons to be shared when the glamour had worn down.
He also would not confirm or deny being a bad person. Life was funny that way, you did what you felt was the right thing. Good or bad. He had hurt people he felt deserved it for the greater good, he was fighting for mutant-kind. But this was not the time for debate or politics.
“Google told me it was Psychometry, but I hadn’t seen the word for memory manipulation before. They’re linked in a way, but they feel totally different to me.” She was sure his telepathy felt different than when he manipulated memory, that’s just how it was, wasn’t it? Briefly, she wondered what it would be like to hear everyone’s thoughts - and though her own mind was perfectly open and full of typically happy and optimistic sorts of thoughts, she was sure not everyone’s was.
She was actually quite glad she couldn’t hear anyone else’s thoughts.
“I’ve definitely felt pain before, I’m okay with that. The worst so far is accidentally forgetting everything I’d done for an entire day, I don’t even know how I did that.” That was when she was first learning, though. “I’m not really a fan of the dissociation though.” It was probably the most hated of the side effects she experienced - getting lost in things that weren’t happening, unable to discern the past from the present. It was short-lived typically but was the most mentally draining and disorienting.
“So, why don’t you give me your phone number and I’ll talk to my mum about you and we’ll get it all squared away, yeah?” She suggested, pulling the phone from her pocket and opening it up. Inserting a new contact, she put “Caspian” as the first name and “Definitely didn’t hit him when parkouring over a bench (EPIC!)” as the last name + organization. Handing it over, she waited to see if he’d take the phone and enter his number.
It made sense she would have turned to Google to inquire as to what her gift was. The younger ones seemed to travel down that same path. His online presence was nil. Caitlyn had her own Instagram that her mother monitored, that was as close as he came to an internet presence.
Psychometry. He did not wish that power on anyone. Touching a solid object and gleaning a memory could be powerful and dangerous. He was glad she was so optimistic. That would help her later on.
“It is an odd power, but it is controllable if you’re willing to work on it.” He had learned early out of necessity. No teacher to guide him, a young lad on his own. He could understand also the part about the pain. That would not go away, you just learned to deal with it.
“Hopefully you will be able to overcome that obstacle.” That disassociation. He truly did hope it would get easier. And then she was talking about getting his phone number. The phone was extended toward him and with a bit of reluctance he accepted it.
It took only a moment for him to enter the digits into her mobile device. Offering it back, Caspian nodded at Finley. “You’re welcome to reach out when you need to, then.” He made no comments at all about the way she had entered him into her phone.
“Could I phone you a Lyft then? You should probably start getting back home. It’s late.”
She hadn’t heard anyone call her ability odd before, though sometimes she was met with apprehension and a little distrust, people worried so much about what she might see. Typically, those were the people she avoided. If they were so worried about what information she might get from them based on a single touch, she probably didn’t want to know what they were up to and probably didn’t want to join in, either.
“It’s better than it was, but I still need the gloves to make it not happen.” She admitted another small and nonchalant shrug tossed out. It wasn’t that she didn’t care, it was more than she had accepted what it was and that was that. She managed, she did her best to remember the gloves in most situations and very rarely did it on purpose.
Once his number was entered in her phone, she checked it briefly before shoving it back into her pocket. “Awesome.” She was excited to start working on her abilities with someone who, at least in part, knew what she was capable of, what it would take to get it under control and use it when intended. It was also a little exciting to think that there might be more she could do that she didn’t even know yet.
“It’s not that late, and besides, it’s not too far from here. I’ll be fine.” She reassured him, declining the offer of a Lyft. “I’ll probably ask my mom right away, so expect to hear from me soon!” She beamed, wiping the last bits of snow off of her now that she wasn’t otherwise engaged in conversation and stood up on her tiptoes, waving an excited goodbye. “It was nice meeting you, Caspian!”
He listened to her words, the way she spoke about her ability being better now than it was before. He could feel a kinship there in regards to the struggle of control. Being young often meant you had less maneuverability over your gift and many went through life without a guide or a teacher. Hopefully in due time her confidence in her abilities would strengthen as her grip on them became stronger and more steadfast.
Caspian nodded at her in reply. He did not know her plight when it came to the objects and the memories so there was not much he could offer. Hopefully in the lessons they would go through her mental state would also increase to assist with some of that burden.
She was hopeful enough for the both of them. He didn’t worry about her motivation.
As the decline came for the Lyft and the assurance that she was not far from home he nodded again. “If you say so.” He couldn’t make her accept the ride but offering to help lifted some of the unease. It was late, it was dark, it was cold, but she was an adult who could make her own choices. “Of course. I will expect your communication when it comes.” The scales were tipping a bit, he felt. Maybe he was not nearly as awful as he portrayed himself to be.
Hand lifting from a pocket he offered a small wave of farewell, “Until we meet again, Finley.” And with that the conclusion came on a more optimistic and solid note.