11-20-2018
09:30 AM
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11-20-2018, 09:30 AM
[In-Character] [Post #11]
He had no idea where he was, what the hell was going on but he knew this wall was safe. If he stayed here he could just ignore everything else. Including the woman whispering in his ear. Some part of him knew that she meant well, that she was here to keep him safe. He didn’t want to be here, he wanted to close his eyes and forget. Forget what? He already didn’t remember anything.

“No. No. No.” he repeated. It wouldn’t be soon. He started to hum to himself, trying to drown out the endless noise he was hearing. The scream that was lodged inside his head. That piercing scream.

He moved back and forth, rocking himself, trying to sooth his head but it wasn’t working. He stopped. Hearing that damn name again. The name the red lady had called him on the streets.

Did he know what day it was? Did he? “Do I?” He asked himself. “No. No day. This day. What day?” How should he know what day it was? Everyday was just horrible.

“You’re you.” He told the man, who sounded familiar but wasn’t at the same time. Which was strange. Weird. “Where is she? Where?” He couldn’t find the white lady. Where was she? Was she here. “White. Bright… I need to sleep.” He started rocking again. “Can I sleep?”
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11-20-2018
04:24 PM
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11-20-2018, 04:24 PM
[In-Character] [Post #12]
Scott flinched just in regard to his proximity, the sound of his voice. It made something tighten inside of himself and he struggled to keep it from showing on his face. His brother babbled again, words strung together, no no no so confused. He wanted to run, it was plain enough to see it on his face and in the way he kept trying to push himself further into the corner. He wanted away from them, from him.

So close, so far.

His brother was sitting right in front of him, and he didn’t even know who he was. He wasn’t sure if this was something he could deem as being ‘good’. How volatile could he be if he had no idea who he was. It hit him then, that the red had receded from his eyes, and he wasn’t being blasted across the room. Not that it would do much in the way of damage, at least not to him. To Cait…he pressed his eyes shut at the thought, not allowing it to fully take form.

His eyes popped open at Scott’s questioning. “Where is who?” Then Scott started shaking, started rocking himself, an attempt to calm and comfort oneself.

If he didn’t have his powers at the moment, then there was little Gabe had to be afraid of. He shifted and put himself next to his brother, his back against the wall, one knee pulled up to drape his arm across. He looked to Cait’s legs, because he couldn’t bring himself to meet her eyes. He wasn’t sure what he would let her see in his own.

Can I sleep? How much could one do?

“You’re supposed to be here.” He sighed, tears welling up in his eyes. “And all you want to do is run away.” He lifted his hand up to his lower face, fingertips scratching at the scruff on his face, before lifting it higher to press his thumb and fingers into his temples. “Leave, Cait.” She had brought him there, she had made sure he was in a state able to transport, and she had brought him to this room. Now he was saddled with a brother whose mind was obviously fractured.

That they had in their number a telepath on another level, was apparent enough, it waved itself at the forefront of his mind. But Wanda had insisted that Beth hadn’t slept in years. The last thing she needed in that moment was to be asked to flex her abilities when they had already been shaky enough to start with. Several of the storage totes and spare parts in the room lifted several inches off the floor which briefly nagged at his concern until they gradually resettled themselves.

Leaning back, he set his head against the wall. “You were supposed to be here.” If Scott had been here when Alex had died, everything would have been better. It wouldn’t have happened. Alex would still be alive, he was sure of it.
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11-20-2018
10:02 PM
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11-20-2018, 10:02 PM
[In-Character] [Post #13]
Caitlin’s heart was breaking for her husband. She watched how Scott crawled away from them, taking refuge against the wall and trying to avoid all contact. It was heart breaking. Sadness filled her and she wished she could help them both but it was out of her hands. She didn’t dare to read Scott, not like last time when he turned into a berserker. All she could do was pick up on the emotions he was sending out freely.

Confusion, anger and … weariness.

She bit her bottom lip and looked at the two brothers, Gabriel tried to get through to Scott but the other man replied with gibberish. Nonsense. Well…

“Is he talking about Emma?” She wondered softly but didn’t expect an answer. Perhaps she should call Carol and get the woman to check up on what the hell had been done to Scott. And perhaps find out what had happened to Emma as well. If that could help Scott snap back to reality, why not.

She had been in thought, almost missing Gabriel telling her to leave. She didn’t want to but felt that she had to. “I…” She hesitated. “I love you, Gabe.” Caitlin turned then, leaving through the door and closing it behind her. She grabbed her phone and dialled the same number from before.

“Yeah it’s me again. No, I know you don’t have anything yet. I’m not calling for that. Can you add another search to your list?” Caitlin waited, leaning against the wall next to the door. “I know it’s not safe for you to do so much but it’s important. We have Scott here.” More silence as she listened to the person on the other end of the line. “Can you find out what happened to him and perhaps find out more about Emma Frost?”

“Thanks.” She hung up and let her head rest against the wall. Caitlin wished she could do more, but for now she hoped this would be enough.
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Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end,
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11-21-2018
12:03 AM
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11-21-2018, 12:03 AM
[In-Character] [Post #14]
“Lady gone. Need her.” He said out loud as he started to pick at the wall. Where was the lady in white? Had she abandoned him as well? Just like his name? Memories? The other woman had left as well. The man had made her leave. Why?

He didn’t understand what was going on. He needed to go back to sleep, part of him knew he would be safe there. Something was waiting for him there, no not something… somebody. Yes.

“White. White. Bright. Sleep.” He murmured incoherent. Why couldn’t people just leave him alone? He started to scratch his hand now, like there was an itch but really not. Why did skin do that anyway? Tell you had an itch but there wasn’t one. Where they trying to torture him? He looked at the man sitting not far from him with his now brown eyes.

“Do I know you?” He asked somewhat coherently. The man looked familiar and he didn’t like the sadness on that one’s face. It nagged at him to do something about it.

“Sad. Sad not sad. Sad.”
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Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end,
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11-21-2018
05:54 AM
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11-21-2018, 05:54 AM
[In-Character] [Post #15]
Maybe he was talking about Emma. In his damaged mind, perhaps she was what he tried to hang on to. He wouldn’t lie, that fact stung somewhat deeper than he would like to admit. He wondered, then, who he would seek out in such a state. Would he reach for Scott or Alex? Or would he draw a vision of Cait to the forefront? Or would he cycle through a maddening carousel of each of them, never sitting with one of them for too long?

Scott twitched and then suddenly started scratching at his hand like he could scratch his way through it and discover the secrets of his existence written in the blood he would coax forth. There was a name for that, Wanda had once informed him; it was literally called blood magic, and there were people who practiced it.

He had no idea what he was supposed to do. No one had prepared him for this sort of situation, where his brother was sliding off his rocker with his mind half in the grave. He wondered if time would help, or if it would only make it worse. He wondered if sending another mind into his head would settle everything else, or drive his madness deeper into place.

His abilities were muted since he had woken, and they had been barely a glimmer when he had first stepped into the room, barely a whisper of what they were meant to be.

“You were there when I was born.” He told him, recalling the story he had been told so many times throughout his life. His gaze fixed on the toe of his boot. “When I came out, they said I wouldn’t settle. I kept whining and crying, kept shifting about trying to get comfortable, trying to find something.” His mother used to light up, a glow in her features as she would regale them with it time and time again. “I would eat in spurts and then resume the restless…searching.”

He wanted to look at Scott, look to him to see if he was even paying attention. He wanted to look for him to tell him what to do. “Then dad had you sit by the window and he put me in your arms.” His gaze slid to the floor and all he wanted was to put himself back there in one of those tellings. When Scott would laugh and make some stupid joke about him still being whiney. “He said you told me, ‘okay, Gabriel, that’s enough fidgeting. You need to be good now. I’m here to take care of you’.” How many times had Scott told him that in his life. I’m here to take care of you. Sometimes it was gentle when he had been small, and when he was sad. Other times it was harsh, when he had acted out, when they had fought.

Those were moments that he wanted back, wanted to flesh them out and make them real, lose himself in them, just for a moment. Just for a minute to relish the feeling of the memory.

“And you don’t even know who I am.”
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