06-29-2016, 10:30 AM
The wick of the candle taunted her. In her mind it sparked a thousand shades of orange and red as the flame took, but to her narrowed gaze nothing happened. She stared until her eyes watered, until the frustration throbbed a dull ache at her temples, and she found solace in the palms of her hand.
In that brief darkness hung Azubuike's face. And all those children.
Natalie leaned back. Weary. Angry. Too afraid to close her eyes, knowing the ghosts that awaited her there. There's no time for grief. Nor regret, though it lapped at the edges of her ice fortress nonetheless. She shored up her defences, willed herself cold and unfeeling. Because sitting alone in the darkness accomplished little, and the steel core of her will - for once - won her nothing. The gift, whatever it was, wherever it came from, could not be forced.
Which meant she had to find another way.
Something to focus on eased some of the frustration, channelled it into a momentum that sustained her. Her balled fists relaxed. She rubbed her thighs, palms stinging with the sharp indents of her nails, and considered instead all the past times the gift had sparked. And the uncontrolled consequences.
The thugs who had beaten Aaron, strewn across the pavement like dolls. She'd fled England in part to escape the consequences. To empty out the constituent parts of herself, and reassemble into the facsimile of a person she was happier to be. With varying success. She'd been content at the school. Content too to know that if her gifts found an outlet, it was more likely to be a deserving one. Because even back then she'd realised she reacted in volatile situations. She reacted to danger. Or her perception of it. Kofi's arm. The explosion at the hospital. Jay's leg. Jay's health. Jay's step into the breach.
The anomaly was glaring.
Because if she was being impartial, she could see that the gift also reacted to him. At the refinery, it had felt like the intensity might melt her skin from her bones - and in part that had been through fear for Azu, for the other refugees. But it had been Jay she'd been looking at. When he'd chased down Lt. Folami her chest had constricted, but then - as now - she was too wary to pluck out her heart and examine it for the reasons why. She didn't know the man, not beyond the uniform he wore, but thinking of him unsettled her grip on reality, like a caress of déjà vu.
Pain stabbed her ankle. When she shifted, it was to find the kitten rolling in the dust, waging war on her shoelaces. Two choices, she realised, scratching it's fuzzy belly. Her finger fell into possession of its pinprick teeth. In order to learn how to use the gift, she had to be able to touch it, and right now to do that she knew of only two ways to spark the right situation. To place herself in danger, or to seek Jay's company.
The first was, perhaps, sheer stupidity, but not so difficult to negotiate. The second provoked a tangle of feelings she was inclined to handle with care. She knew unequivocally which frightened her more, which was in the end what made her decision. "Come on, Shredder. Let's go find your human."
~*~
The world had shifted by the time she emerged. Signs of her fracture erased, Natalie was industrious in finding out what had happened while she had pieced herself back together. It seemed Jacques had spun the game board. Legion Premier had been disbanded, and an army sprung from its ashes. Apparently he was done taking the bloody coin of others and had decided to instead take matters into his own hands. Her thoughts were quiet on that; she accepted the news with a grim smirk, imagining her mother spitting feathers at the news of a void contract. The wider political turmoil it must have left in its wake. Well, that, at least, she could appreciate.
News of Jay was met with a rather more carefully neutral reaction. Though she was relieved to realise he was no longer her contractually obliged protector, his absence altogether made her feel unaccountably leaden. The loss stung, and she leaned back hastily from the precipice of trying to work out why. To balm her own uncertainty, she filled up on concern and disapproval. "He can barely walk."
Would Jacques really do that? Doubts eased in the cracks. The fragile trust she had extended with her promises to him was in ruins. She hadn't seen him since the refinery - had shuttered him and his legionnaires both out in anger. Now the opportunity to ask why was lost. Would he really send Jay out injured? Apparently he had. And there was nothing she could do about it.
She hated it.
But right now she needed to focus. Filter out the confusing emotions. Pay attention to the things she could change.
Her two choices had narrowed to one.
In that brief darkness hung Azubuike's face. And all those children.
Natalie leaned back. Weary. Angry. Too afraid to close her eyes, knowing the ghosts that awaited her there. There's no time for grief. Nor regret, though it lapped at the edges of her ice fortress nonetheless. She shored up her defences, willed herself cold and unfeeling. Because sitting alone in the darkness accomplished little, and the steel core of her will - for once - won her nothing. The gift, whatever it was, wherever it came from, could not be forced.
Which meant she had to find another way.
Something to focus on eased some of the frustration, channelled it into a momentum that sustained her. Her balled fists relaxed. She rubbed her thighs, palms stinging with the sharp indents of her nails, and considered instead all the past times the gift had sparked. And the uncontrolled consequences.
The thugs who had beaten Aaron, strewn across the pavement like dolls. She'd fled England in part to escape the consequences. To empty out the constituent parts of herself, and reassemble into the facsimile of a person she was happier to be. With varying success. She'd been content at the school. Content too to know that if her gifts found an outlet, it was more likely to be a deserving one. Because even back then she'd realised she reacted in volatile situations. She reacted to danger. Or her perception of it. Kofi's arm. The explosion at the hospital. Jay's leg. Jay's health. Jay's step into the breach.
The anomaly was glaring.
Because if she was being impartial, she could see that the gift also reacted to him. At the refinery, it had felt like the intensity might melt her skin from her bones - and in part that had been through fear for Azu, for the other refugees. But it had been Jay she'd been looking at. When he'd chased down Lt. Folami her chest had constricted, but then - as now - she was too wary to pluck out her heart and examine it for the reasons why. She didn't know the man, not beyond the uniform he wore, but thinking of him unsettled her grip on reality, like a caress of déjà vu.
Pain stabbed her ankle. When she shifted, it was to find the kitten rolling in the dust, waging war on her shoelaces. Two choices, she realised, scratching it's fuzzy belly. Her finger fell into possession of its pinprick teeth. In order to learn how to use the gift, she had to be able to touch it, and right now to do that she knew of only two ways to spark the right situation. To place herself in danger, or to seek Jay's company.
The first was, perhaps, sheer stupidity, but not so difficult to negotiate. The second provoked a tangle of feelings she was inclined to handle with care. She knew unequivocally which frightened her more, which was in the end what made her decision. "Come on, Shredder. Let's go find your human."
~*~
The world had shifted by the time she emerged. Signs of her fracture erased, Natalie was industrious in finding out what had happened while she had pieced herself back together. It seemed Jacques had spun the game board. Legion Premier had been disbanded, and an army sprung from its ashes. Apparently he was done taking the bloody coin of others and had decided to instead take matters into his own hands. Her thoughts were quiet on that; she accepted the news with a grim smirk, imagining her mother spitting feathers at the news of a void contract. The wider political turmoil it must have left in its wake. Well, that, at least, she could appreciate.
News of Jay was met with a rather more carefully neutral reaction. Though she was relieved to realise he was no longer her contractually obliged protector, his absence altogether made her feel unaccountably leaden. The loss stung, and she leaned back hastily from the precipice of trying to work out why. To balm her own uncertainty, she filled up on concern and disapproval. "He can barely walk."
Would Jacques really do that? Doubts eased in the cracks. The fragile trust she had extended with her promises to him was in ruins. She hadn't seen him since the refinery - had shuttered him and his legionnaires both out in anger. Now the opportunity to ask why was lost. Would he really send Jay out injured? Apparently he had. And there was nothing she could do about it.
She hated it.
But right now she needed to focus. Filter out the confusing emotions. Pay attention to the things she could change.
Her two choices had narrowed to one.