xp_logs | Forge and Crystal: Monday morning

Forge comes up from his lab with a surprise, and Crystal brings up a more somber one of her own.

Distal, intermediate, and proximal phalanges.

Forge walked up the stairs, pausing every few steps to take a deep breath and concentrate on balance. The fading effects of a concussion, plus new weight distribution made stairs somewhat problematic.

Metacarpals and carpals. Scaphoid, lunate, triquetral and pisiform.

Five minutes from the bottom of the stairs in the foyer to the third floor landing. It was an improvement, at least. Thankfully the only people awake in the mansion at this hour were the earliest of the early risers, those who thought rising before the sun was a good time to go running around the property.

Trapezium, trapezoid, capitate and hamate. Radius and ulna. Humerus.

The mansion was mostly quiet to Forge's ears; but to his other senses, the ones no one else possessed, it spoke to him in an unheard voice. The thin whir of the coffee maker three floor below in the kitchen, the barely-perceptible tick of a wind-up alarm clock in someone's room, the reflexive breathing of the thermostats controlling the air conditioning, like the lungs of a giant beast.

And the buzz of a toaster from the other side of the door. His hand paused at the doorknob.

Deltoid, supraspinus, teres minor, biceps, triceps, anconeus, pronator, palmaris, flexors...

He reached out and opened the door, stepping in with a smile. "Hi, honey. I'm home."

"Good morning. Are you hungry?" Crystal asked, looking over at Forge as he walked into the room. "I just made some toast." Perhaps he had taken the time to eat something while he had been working all night, but Crystal wasn't sure that was the case. Crystal would have liked to try to cook something better than toast, but she was fairly certain the mansion residents would not appreciate the attempt. Maybe she would try to prepare dinner for them one of these days. Lorna would be proud... if she didn't burn down the mansion, of course.

"Something light would be nice," Forge replied, walking over into the small kitchenette. "Toast would be perfection."

As he spoke, he walked behind Crystal, then very deliberately reached around her to embrace her with two arms, flesh and metal hands meeting as he gave her a quick squeeze. "I see you've been busy as well."

"You finished working on your arm!" Crystal smiled and turned around, hugging Forge. "Finishing fixing your arm or making toast... I believe you have been the busier one this morning, yes?"

"I accept your praise and your affection," Forge replied, then suddenly wincing as the prosthetic twinged. "Sorry, it takes some adapting still. The tactile interface... it feels like when you sleep on your arm wrong and it's all numb but super-sensitive at the same time? I figure it'll take a few days to adjust."

He reached around Crystal to grab a slice of toast and nibble on it quickly, giving a quick grunt of approval. "The princess of Attilan, making toast in the mornings. I can imagine the paparazzi knocking their heads in confusion at the absolute domesticity of it all."

"They will not know unless you tell them," Crystal replied, pausing for a moment. "Speaking of the paparazzi, this Wednesday marks the one-year anniversary of... Attilan's disappearance." Not to mention the plane crash and the deaths of her parents, aunt and uncle, as well as the changing of their lives forever. Betrayal, a future planned and shattered, innocence lost. Trying to keep away from thinking too much about these thoughts, or voicing them, Crystal continued, "It will be a solemn day on Attilan. There will be a memorial service held at the palace. I would very much like it if you would come with me."

"Of course," Forge replied, looking down at Crystal. "I mean, I didn't get the chance to meet your parents aside from just the engagement gala, but... of course. We can take the plane in, I suppose?"

Crystal's eyes widened as she tried to keep a look of horror from passing over her face. "A plane?" The princess shook her head. "Forge, I... twelve people died on that plane. My sister was supposed to be on that plane. If not for the plane crash, Attilan would not have been transported elsewhere. No, no plane. Not even a single plane will leave, go to, or fly over Attilan on the 25th."

Forge groaned and smacked his palm against his forehead. "Oh man, I'm sorry. I didn't realize. It's just... right now, I'm really kind of... I know there's the royal teleporter, but right now I don't think if I could. You know what I mean? After everything that's happened, I..."

He thought for a moment, then leaned against the counter, lacing his fingers together. "What if we flew into Lisbon and took a boat? We could leave early on Tuesday, and be in Attilan well before the services."

Really, Crystal did not want to travel by plane at all, not on Wednesday or Tuesday, and it didn't matter if they were flying to Attilan, Portugal, or anywhere else. Teleportation was a very quick method of transportation, although, yes, unfortunately some people did seem to suffer from side effects after traveling with a teleporter. Crystal was glad that this was not the case with her. Still, she would not make Forge go to Attilan via teleportation if he was so against the idea. Other than Forge's suggestion, the only other option was to travel separately.

"A boat sounds lovely."

"Wonderful, then," Forge exclaimed. "I'll let the staff know and--" His sentence ended with a bit of a yelp as he shook his newly-attached artificial hand back and forth. "Stupid bionic interface lag. Here, I've got this..." He rummaged around in his pocket before producing a roll of what looked like thin bandages with metallic fiber interwoven into it. "Kinetic dampening gauze, something I designed to reduce sensation for burn victims. Think you could give me a hand wrapping up my arm? At least until the stupid lag balances."

Crystal nodded. "Of course." A plane ride tomorrow morning? "I will make the arrangements for our flight and travel by sea later this morning." Water, water, everywhere. All around, no matter where you look, all there is to see is water.

Forge hooked a stool with his foot, sitting down with his back to Crystal and handing her the bandages, his metal arm extended out to the side. "How'd I wind up with such an awesome girlfriend, hmm?" he asked, leaning his head back and smiling.

"You kissed me at your parents' house, Medusa gave you her blessing, you asked me out to dinner, and I said yes," Crystal told Forge, taking the bandages from him.

"Ah yes," Forge recalled with an impish grin. "Go me."