A Haven to Call Home: In The Beginning
Sep. 29th, 2023 05:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsQuentin, Inez, Arthur, and Sue visit a mutant commune. It's totally not a cult.
"I barely have one bar here," Quentin lamented from the passenger seat of the rental SUV. He put his phone in his pocket only to check it again elevent second later. "This is truly hell."
He had asked Arthur to drive from the airport to the mutant isolationist commune where X-Factor's investigation had directed them. Not only because he was a better driver, but Quentin also hoped for good luck for navigation when their GPS inevitably crapped out. That counted as a selfless act, right? Get the team safely to their destination to maybe save someone who was being manipulated and victimized by a cult.
"It would be more exciting if we could go off-road," Arthur offered in a hopeful, petulant tone... for about the third time since they all had started this little journey. "That would raise the bar to at least three. Four if there's a ravine!" He drummed his fingers contentedly on the steering wheel as visions of their vehicle, silhouetted by sunset, lept gracefully across that same ravine. It would be better if they were being chased by cultists as their rescued damsel swooned dramatically in Quentin's arms. It was all very cinematic.
"What kind of cult is this again, anyway?" Best to check for accuracy.
"Is there ever a good kind?"
Sue's blue eyes cracked open, squinting against the sunlight pouring through the window as she held up a hand to shield her face from the harsh light as she wrinkled her brow in thought as the scenery rolled past them.
"We're not going off-road...yet, maybe on the way back though, knowing our luck we'll be fleeing an angry hoard and then you can go as crazy as you want....wait how do you drive across a...no, I don't even wanna know...but, bonus points if you can make the exhaust blow a tongue of flame while you're at it."
Ok, so she was responsible but no one said she had to be super responsible all the time, besides what a story that would make.
"Honestly, they don't seem to be too bad as far as some of the cults we've had to deal with go, the people in the cult seem to be well taken care of, and people seem to be allowed to come and go as they wish. Actually, that's kinda suspicious all on itself but there haven't been any police reports or civil reports I could really find when I looked. So...they're probably not gonna try to kill us on sight."
"That's a pretty low bar, t'be sure," Inez muttered, but it wasn't like she wanted anyone to try and kill them either so she hoped that she was right. "It means they're either total rank amateurs who don't know what they're doin', or that they're really, really good at it," she reckoned. "My money's on the latter, at least we should treat it like that until we see otherwise." Better safe than sorry and all that.
Quentin grunted in agreement. "Everything we've found is relatively tame. It's just, like, a mutant hippie commune. Cooperative living, everyone doing their parts to survive and thrive. Radha Dastoor is just trying to give these mutants a place to live freely, away from flatscan oppression. There's nothing to indicate she's a David Koresh or Jim Jones, or that we'll be Leo Ryan. Or have to call in Janet Reno. By all accounts, she's not any different from Chuckles, except there's no sprawling mansion or secret superhero teams."
It wasn't long before the entrance came into view. No walls or gates, just a well-tread dirt road that led to an orderly assortment of cabins and bungalows. It could have been a children's summer camp. "Hmm, guess we can drive right in. I'm not sensing any psychic disturbances around here so I'll keep us linked telepathically. Sue, go invisible now and unbuckle so they don't see you coming in. Then you know what to do when we get there. Scream if you need anything."
There were several people milling around, some intent on a task, others just apparently hanging out. They smiled and waved as the car was parked just outside the entrance, and though Quentin was not particularly attuned to emotions, the vibes seemed pretty chill. No hostility, no fear, only mild curiosity at the new visitors. A pair of people broke away from the crowd and approached the car as X-Factor stepped out: an unassuming mousy brunette and a very assuming bearded South Asian hunk.
"Hey there!" the brunette chirped. She spread her arms wide: a woman ready to hug the entire world, whether it wanted to be or not. Colorful bracelets woven from cord and semi-precious stones shone at her wrists. "Welcome to Haven. How can we help you? Assuming you aren't just lost, anyway." She gave the muscular man at her side a grin. "I told you we need to work on our signage."
"Actually yes, we are hoping you can help us." The words came out pleasantly, kindly, a register higher than Quentin normally spoke. He handed the pair each a business card. "I'm Quentin. We're looking for a, uh, Theo Turner? He's been missing recently and his wife's really worried about him. Do you know him?"
"Their minds are closed shut," he informed the others, "Everyone else's here are more or less open, though. So we've got the bigshots here."
"Theo? From New York, right? Sure, I think he's on garden duty." For the first time she looked past Quentin and seemed to register Arthur and Inez, unobtrusive though they were. "Is everything all right?" she asked, an expression of puzzled concern spreading across her face.
"We hope so," Inez said, standing in a relaxed posture with her thumbs threaded through the belt loops of her jeans on either side. "Mind if we go an' speak with him for a bit? Mrs. Turner hired us to check in on him so we'd like to go an' do that, if y'all don't mind." If they do, well. She just hoped that they didn't as she shot a look at Arthur.
Arthur beamed the full force of his sunshine straight at the two strangers, like turning on a flashlight of friendship in a dark room unannounced. "I, for one, am fascinated by the idea of this commune. Life in the city has been so stressful lately, and I've always imagined really making a difference in a small community." He somehow managed with complete sincerity, "I want to know everything about what makes this place special."
"I'd be happy to show you around while we find Theo," the brunette beamed, clasping her hands together. "Oh, I'm Josie, by the way. This is Abhay. We keep the place going when Radha's out."
The strong but silent type, one of Quentin's favorites. He kept it in his pants for now, though, and instead nodded politely at the larger man. "If you're not too busy, maybe you could show me around, too, while they look for Mr. Turner?"
"Sue, should be easier for you to observe and report if Radha's gone and these two are busy with us. Everyone keep your eyes and ears open, but if they offer you any flavored drinks, best to decline."
~*~
Abhay Dastoor takes Quentin on a private tour around the commune and suggests a reason or two to get involved.
"We appreciate the help, uh, Abhay, was it? Mrs. Turner was worried about her husband, and then we became worried when we saw he was on the other side of the country in the middle of nowhere." Quentin spoke liltingly, with none of the edge or general loathing that were normally infused into his tone of voice. He was an outsider, so he did not expect to be trusted, but he could at least not completely put off this cult. Commune. Whatever.
"Abhay, yes," the larger man replied. He offered Quentin a warm smile as their eyes met. "And nowhere," he added, "is really just somewhere you haven't been yet." He paused for a second then chuckled, finally breaking eye contact. He scratched the back of his neck, and the sleeves of his T-shirt rose up slightly to reveal a well-defined tricep. "That sounded less cheesy in my head, but I really do believe it. Anyway, let me show you around. You'll see there's nothing to fear."
Quentin hesitated the briefest of moments just to observe Abhay from behind, and schooled his expression before catching up to walk alongside him. "Speaking of cheesy lines, you know what they say. People fear what they don't understand. So, show me, help me understand. I have to admit, the idea of mutants living alone is appealing. Although personally I'd have chosen an island in the South Pacific instead of Oregon."
"Seems kind of Orientalist," Abhay gently teased, a smile on his face to make it clear he was joking. "Honestly, my sister, she wanted a place that's free from persecution and away from danger, and this fits the bill." He gestured to their arboreal surroundings. "The South Pacific is a vacation destination. Here, we're unbothered and safe. It's not unusual for communities facing bigotry to want to be isolated, yet not entirely isolated. The end of Cape Cod, a multi-step journey off the tip of Long Island." He shrugged.
"And I suppose the central coast of California isn't private enough," Quentin replied in the same code. "This all looks very impressive. I had schoolmates whose summer camps in the Berkshires weren't quite this nice. All that's missing are the arts and crafts hut and the archery range." Then they passed a large enclosure where a young green-skinned woman was firing rapid blasts of energy at a boulder twice her size, cheered on by a pair of older mutants. A quick scan revealed it was just powers practice, the same as any student at the mansion underwent to hone their control.
The telepath grinned at Abhay. "I take it back. Looks like you got that, too."
"We're full service here," Abhay said, his eyes meeting Quentin's, the implication dancing below the surface just enough for the other man to wonder whether it was real or imagined. He looked away, watching as the older mutants chatted with the woman, guiding her in some way.
"My sister has a vision of what a mutant society can be," he said after a second, continuing on their path. "We build each other up here. You all are lucky in New York. L.A., Miami. The big cities — so many of our kind are hiding themselves, and they're hiding from themselves." He shrugged. "That young woman you saw, she's from Idaho, not too far from here. This is maybe the first place she's had anything like solidarity."
Ironically, a nature commune far as can be from civilization was already proving itself to be just as advanced as anything in District X, maybe more so. How many mutants kept to the small confines of that neighborhood for fear of their safety, and how much would they thrive out here?
"Some might say that coming all the way out here is still hiding," Quentin challenged, curious about Abhay's (and by extension, Radha's) rationale. "Maybe as individuals you don't have to hide, but as a community? You don't think this kind of isolationism holds you back? At least if you'd colonized a Tahitian archipelago, you'd have the Orientalist beach paradise fantasy."
Abhay was quiet as he considered how to best vocalize his thoughts on this. "I'm not sure that what we're building can exist in a world where there's so much hostility to us," he said. "At least not yet. There's a lot more work to be done." He stopped abruptly, putting a firm hand on Quentin's chest. "Hold on, there's—" Two speeding blurs whizzed by, the sound of high-pitched laughter traveling as they passed.
"Sorry," he looked at the other man with an apologetic smile, removing his hand. "Two of our speedsters are helping with some construction project or other, and they're... overzealous." He shrugged. "You learn to look for the signs."
Be still Quentin's beating heart and throbbing . . . other parts. Either this man was a natural charmer (a useful trait for a recruiter) or he was purposefully trying to disarm Quentin. Either way, he liked what he was seeing. If Radha was half as smooth as her brother, then no wonder a hundred people had uprooted their lives and flocked to her. He was half-tempted to, himself. But at least for now, he was still capable of thinking with his brain and not other parts, and continued down the non-speedster-endangered path.
"Well, there's obviously value in laying down a foundation and experimenting so you can see what you could ultimately build. Maybe it's wiser to take that approach than to just lay down your manifesto and say 'Here we go, do it this way because I said so, not because I have any evidence to back it up.'" Magneto. Xavier. Any of a thousand other political philosophers with a formal education and no sense.
"Everyone believes in what we're building here," Abhay replied. "Radha has a vision, but it's not like people don't have a voice." He shrugged. "The whole point is for people to live freely. We're not so dogmatic."
"It's too bad Radha is unavailable, I'd love to meet her. Maybe I'll come back some time, if you don't mind."
"Of course." They reached a fork in the path, and Abhay placed his hand on the small of Quentin's back to guide him toward the left. The contact lingered for a bit longer than necessary. "I hope you do. I think there's a lot here for you to explore."
"I look forward to it," he said calmly, hoping he had silenced his internal screaming from the telepathic link he shared with his teammates. "I want to see everything."
"I barely have one bar here," Quentin lamented from the passenger seat of the rental SUV. He put his phone in his pocket only to check it again elevent second later. "This is truly hell."
He had asked Arthur to drive from the airport to the mutant isolationist commune where X-Factor's investigation had directed them. Not only because he was a better driver, but Quentin also hoped for good luck for navigation when their GPS inevitably crapped out. That counted as a selfless act, right? Get the team safely to their destination to maybe save someone who was being manipulated and victimized by a cult.
"It would be more exciting if we could go off-road," Arthur offered in a hopeful, petulant tone... for about the third time since they all had started this little journey. "That would raise the bar to at least three. Four if there's a ravine!" He drummed his fingers contentedly on the steering wheel as visions of their vehicle, silhouetted by sunset, lept gracefully across that same ravine. It would be better if they were being chased by cultists as their rescued damsel swooned dramatically in Quentin's arms. It was all very cinematic.
"What kind of cult is this again, anyway?" Best to check for accuracy.
"Is there ever a good kind?"
Sue's blue eyes cracked open, squinting against the sunlight pouring through the window as she held up a hand to shield her face from the harsh light as she wrinkled her brow in thought as the scenery rolled past them.
"We're not going off-road...yet, maybe on the way back though, knowing our luck we'll be fleeing an angry hoard and then you can go as crazy as you want....wait how do you drive across a...no, I don't even wanna know...but, bonus points if you can make the exhaust blow a tongue of flame while you're at it."
Ok, so she was responsible but no one said she had to be super responsible all the time, besides what a story that would make.
"Honestly, they don't seem to be too bad as far as some of the cults we've had to deal with go, the people in the cult seem to be well taken care of, and people seem to be allowed to come and go as they wish. Actually, that's kinda suspicious all on itself but there haven't been any police reports or civil reports I could really find when I looked. So...they're probably not gonna try to kill us on sight."
"That's a pretty low bar, t'be sure," Inez muttered, but it wasn't like she wanted anyone to try and kill them either so she hoped that she was right. "It means they're either total rank amateurs who don't know what they're doin', or that they're really, really good at it," she reckoned. "My money's on the latter, at least we should treat it like that until we see otherwise." Better safe than sorry and all that.
Quentin grunted in agreement. "Everything we've found is relatively tame. It's just, like, a mutant hippie commune. Cooperative living, everyone doing their parts to survive and thrive. Radha Dastoor is just trying to give these mutants a place to live freely, away from flatscan oppression. There's nothing to indicate she's a David Koresh or Jim Jones, or that we'll be Leo Ryan. Or have to call in Janet Reno. By all accounts, she's not any different from Chuckles, except there's no sprawling mansion or secret superhero teams."
It wasn't long before the entrance came into view. No walls or gates, just a well-tread dirt road that led to an orderly assortment of cabins and bungalows. It could have been a children's summer camp. "Hmm, guess we can drive right in. I'm not sensing any psychic disturbances around here so I'll keep us linked telepathically. Sue, go invisible now and unbuckle so they don't see you coming in. Then you know what to do when we get there. Scream if you need anything."
There were several people milling around, some intent on a task, others just apparently hanging out. They smiled and waved as the car was parked just outside the entrance, and though Quentin was not particularly attuned to emotions, the vibes seemed pretty chill. No hostility, no fear, only mild curiosity at the new visitors. A pair of people broke away from the crowd and approached the car as X-Factor stepped out: an unassuming mousy brunette and a very assuming bearded South Asian hunk.
"Hey there!" the brunette chirped. She spread her arms wide: a woman ready to hug the entire world, whether it wanted to be or not. Colorful bracelets woven from cord and semi-precious stones shone at her wrists. "Welcome to Haven. How can we help you? Assuming you aren't just lost, anyway." She gave the muscular man at her side a grin. "I told you we need to work on our signage."
"Actually yes, we are hoping you can help us." The words came out pleasantly, kindly, a register higher than Quentin normally spoke. He handed the pair each a business card. "I'm Quentin. We're looking for a, uh, Theo Turner? He's been missing recently and his wife's really worried about him. Do you know him?"
"Their minds are closed shut," he informed the others, "Everyone else's here are more or less open, though. So we've got the bigshots here."
"Theo? From New York, right? Sure, I think he's on garden duty." For the first time she looked past Quentin and seemed to register Arthur and Inez, unobtrusive though they were. "Is everything all right?" she asked, an expression of puzzled concern spreading across her face.
"We hope so," Inez said, standing in a relaxed posture with her thumbs threaded through the belt loops of her jeans on either side. "Mind if we go an' speak with him for a bit? Mrs. Turner hired us to check in on him so we'd like to go an' do that, if y'all don't mind." If they do, well. She just hoped that they didn't as she shot a look at Arthur.
Arthur beamed the full force of his sunshine straight at the two strangers, like turning on a flashlight of friendship in a dark room unannounced. "I, for one, am fascinated by the idea of this commune. Life in the city has been so stressful lately, and I've always imagined really making a difference in a small community." He somehow managed with complete sincerity, "I want to know everything about what makes this place special."
"I'd be happy to show you around while we find Theo," the brunette beamed, clasping her hands together. "Oh, I'm Josie, by the way. This is Abhay. We keep the place going when Radha's out."
The strong but silent type, one of Quentin's favorites. He kept it in his pants for now, though, and instead nodded politely at the larger man. "If you're not too busy, maybe you could show me around, too, while they look for Mr. Turner?"
"Sue, should be easier for you to observe and report if Radha's gone and these two are busy with us. Everyone keep your eyes and ears open, but if they offer you any flavored drinks, best to decline."
~*~
Abhay Dastoor takes Quentin on a private tour around the commune and suggests a reason or two to get involved.
"We appreciate the help, uh, Abhay, was it? Mrs. Turner was worried about her husband, and then we became worried when we saw he was on the other side of the country in the middle of nowhere." Quentin spoke liltingly, with none of the edge or general loathing that were normally infused into his tone of voice. He was an outsider, so he did not expect to be trusted, but he could at least not completely put off this cult. Commune. Whatever.
"Abhay, yes," the larger man replied. He offered Quentin a warm smile as their eyes met. "And nowhere," he added, "is really just somewhere you haven't been yet." He paused for a second then chuckled, finally breaking eye contact. He scratched the back of his neck, and the sleeves of his T-shirt rose up slightly to reveal a well-defined tricep. "That sounded less cheesy in my head, but I really do believe it. Anyway, let me show you around. You'll see there's nothing to fear."
Quentin hesitated the briefest of moments just to observe Abhay from behind, and schooled his expression before catching up to walk alongside him. "Speaking of cheesy lines, you know what they say. People fear what they don't understand. So, show me, help me understand. I have to admit, the idea of mutants living alone is appealing. Although personally I'd have chosen an island in the South Pacific instead of Oregon."
"Seems kind of Orientalist," Abhay gently teased, a smile on his face to make it clear he was joking. "Honestly, my sister, she wanted a place that's free from persecution and away from danger, and this fits the bill." He gestured to their arboreal surroundings. "The South Pacific is a vacation destination. Here, we're unbothered and safe. It's not unusual for communities facing bigotry to want to be isolated, yet not entirely isolated. The end of Cape Cod, a multi-step journey off the tip of Long Island." He shrugged.
"And I suppose the central coast of California isn't private enough," Quentin replied in the same code. "This all looks very impressive. I had schoolmates whose summer camps in the Berkshires weren't quite this nice. All that's missing are the arts and crafts hut and the archery range." Then they passed a large enclosure where a young green-skinned woman was firing rapid blasts of energy at a boulder twice her size, cheered on by a pair of older mutants. A quick scan revealed it was just powers practice, the same as any student at the mansion underwent to hone their control.
The telepath grinned at Abhay. "I take it back. Looks like you got that, too."
"We're full service here," Abhay said, his eyes meeting Quentin's, the implication dancing below the surface just enough for the other man to wonder whether it was real or imagined. He looked away, watching as the older mutants chatted with the woman, guiding her in some way.
"My sister has a vision of what a mutant society can be," he said after a second, continuing on their path. "We build each other up here. You all are lucky in New York. L.A., Miami. The big cities — so many of our kind are hiding themselves, and they're hiding from themselves." He shrugged. "That young woman you saw, she's from Idaho, not too far from here. This is maybe the first place she's had anything like solidarity."
Ironically, a nature commune far as can be from civilization was already proving itself to be just as advanced as anything in District X, maybe more so. How many mutants kept to the small confines of that neighborhood for fear of their safety, and how much would they thrive out here?
"Some might say that coming all the way out here is still hiding," Quentin challenged, curious about Abhay's (and by extension, Radha's) rationale. "Maybe as individuals you don't have to hide, but as a community? You don't think this kind of isolationism holds you back? At least if you'd colonized a Tahitian archipelago, you'd have the Orientalist beach paradise fantasy."
Abhay was quiet as he considered how to best vocalize his thoughts on this. "I'm not sure that what we're building can exist in a world where there's so much hostility to us," he said. "At least not yet. There's a lot more work to be done." He stopped abruptly, putting a firm hand on Quentin's chest. "Hold on, there's—" Two speeding blurs whizzed by, the sound of high-pitched laughter traveling as they passed.
"Sorry," he looked at the other man with an apologetic smile, removing his hand. "Two of our speedsters are helping with some construction project or other, and they're... overzealous." He shrugged. "You learn to look for the signs."
Be still Quentin's beating heart and throbbing . . . other parts. Either this man was a natural charmer (a useful trait for a recruiter) or he was purposefully trying to disarm Quentin. Either way, he liked what he was seeing. If Radha was half as smooth as her brother, then no wonder a hundred people had uprooted their lives and flocked to her. He was half-tempted to, himself. But at least for now, he was still capable of thinking with his brain and not other parts, and continued down the non-speedster-endangered path.
"Well, there's obviously value in laying down a foundation and experimenting so you can see what you could ultimately build. Maybe it's wiser to take that approach than to just lay down your manifesto and say 'Here we go, do it this way because I said so, not because I have any evidence to back it up.'" Magneto. Xavier. Any of a thousand other political philosophers with a formal education and no sense.
"Everyone believes in what we're building here," Abhay replied. "Radha has a vision, but it's not like people don't have a voice." He shrugged. "The whole point is for people to live freely. We're not so dogmatic."
"It's too bad Radha is unavailable, I'd love to meet her. Maybe I'll come back some time, if you don't mind."
"Of course." They reached a fork in the path, and Abhay placed his hand on the small of Quentin's back to guide him toward the left. The contact lingered for a bit longer than necessary. "I hope you do. I think there's a lot here for you to explore."
"I look forward to it," he said calmly, hoping he had silenced his internal screaming from the telepathic link he shared with his teammates. "I want to see everything."
