Terry and Shatterstar | Check-In BACKDATED
Jan. 9th, 2024 03:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsBackdated to Jan 9 Shatterstar checks in on Terry.
Terry had finished with breakfast, which really just involved heating up an egg and vegetable casserole in the oven -- it wasn't a quiche -- and drinking some of the tea Shatterstar had given her while checking her phone for messages from everyone and anyone and reading the newspaper. Word out of France was that the casualties were exceedingly high with an even split between baseline humans there to show their support for their mutant friends and families and mutants themselves. Folding the international paper in half, Terry sat it by her side on the couch and raised her cup of tea to her forehead, gently pressing the warm porcelain against the soreness that had ultimately settled right between her eyes.
There hadn't been as much death in District-X, but the structural damage across the board was far worse. Most of the damage in France had been done to temporary structures like stages and food booths or to vehicles. Entire portions of buildings in the District were uninhabitable, not to mention the businesses that had been damaged. At least the Community Centre had remained relatively unscathed and they could keep it open to use as a staging point for relief and aid.
He'd had to check a few places for Terry, but finally found her in Kyle and Arthur's suite. Shatterstar knocked at the door even though he knew he was allowed in right now, but it seemed strange to intrude on Arthur and his teacher's space.
Terry looked bad. Of course, most of the masionites looked bad after the fight in District X, and he heard there has been a mission somewhere else too, though he didn't know any details. But it was one thing to know so many were injured and another entirely to see Terry injured. Even as he padded into the en-suite he could see the ugly, hand shaped bruise on her throat.
His eyes went wide in concern, then narrowed in anger. He knew just how much force it took to leave a hand shaped bruise. He knelt by the edge of the couch like a confessor.
"Can you talk at all?" He asked, masking his concern.
Smiling a little, Terry nodded. "Aye. Just a bit sore when I do. Overextension o'm'powers, for the most part." She wanted to reach out and pat Shatterstar's hand or arm or give him a hug, but she contented herself with looking him over and reassuring herself he'd come to no harm. "You an' Julio did some good work, I heard. You ought t'bring him t'trainin' next time. Might be a bit, though."
Shatterstar nodded. "Using a sword as a tuning fork worked," he decided on saying. "I don't think either of us could have sustained the combined power otherwise." Surprisingly, he was the one to reach out to her, laying a hand on her wrist for a moment before pulling away. He knew that Terry was someone who was better off- she was here, eating her breakfast and not in the medlab but it worried him to see her this way. He was trying to not be angry she was hurt, angry when he was sure whoever hurt her got their due.
Still he has to ask. "Did whoever hurt you, on your neck. They were hurt back?"
With the softest of chuckles, Terry nodded. "I... well. I shrieked him into a wall," she admitted. "Fell down. Didn't follow me. I was nearly back t'the Community Centre by then. Caught me by surprise." She paused to take a sip of her tea, then brightened visibly. "This's helped a lot," she said. "The tea y'gave me for Christmas. So thank y'again."
Shatterstar nodded, satisfied. He had known, obviously, that Terry was more than capable of taking care of herself but the confirmation soothed his heightened emotions. "It's nothing," he said in regards to the tea, ducking his head a little. "I'm glad you like it."
"I do," Terry nodded. "It's wonderful with a bit o'honey." Then she thought of the casserole, still warm in the oven, and asked, "Have y'eaten? I've got that casserole y'like with the peppers an' onions in the oven. An' we can make some more tea."
Shatterstar knew Terry well enough by now to know that she would be more insulted if he didn't eat, and to be honest he had barely eaten since coming back from District X. And he did like that casserole. He nodded and stood. "Do you need more tea?" He asked. He didn't often drink it, but he'd make an exception for Terry.
Finishing off the cup she'd made now that it was merely lukewarm, Terry nodded. "That'd be perfect, thank y'love." She handed the cup over to him, reaching for an old, well-worn quilt draped on the back of the couch as she fought to stifle a yawn. It was good to see Shatterstar up and about, safe and well and unharmed despite the fact he'd been involved in the fighting. He'd done well at that, too. She couldn't be prouder of him, honestly, and here he was, checking on her.
Shatterstar made himself up a plate and made himself and Terry tea, even if his was really mostly milk. He went to sit at the other end of the couch after giving Terry her cuppa, so he could take advantage of the coffee table. He didn't want to admit it, but maybe Terry was onto something with this sitting down and eating something thing.
Terry sipped her tea, quietly satisfied that Shatterstar was eating the casserole. Her headache faded a bit, which probably had to do more with her not trying to squint through a sore head and tiny print. "Thank you," she finally said, her cup still warm between her palms. "For comin' t'see me an' indulgin' m'need t'feed someone. You're welcome t'take the rest of the casserole for yourself or your friends."
"I know much better than to deny you that need," Shatterstar said seriously, even though he was teasing her. He eventually moved to be sitting closer to her as he slowly finished the casserole, taking the second to truly rest.
Chuckling softly, Terry murmured, "It's appreciated, love." She placed her tea on the end table and leaned her head back against the cushion of the couch, closing her eyes for a moment -- well. She intended for it to be a moment, but between the tea, her exhaustion, and her generalised sense of intense worry, she found herself struggling to open them again. The dark was nice, soft and soothing, and before she realized what was happening, Terry had drifted off. Her head tipped just a bit to the side as she fully relaxed and ended up resting against Shatterstar's shoulder -- quiet, comfortable, and safe.
Terry had finished with breakfast, which really just involved heating up an egg and vegetable casserole in the oven -- it wasn't a quiche -- and drinking some of the tea Shatterstar had given her while checking her phone for messages from everyone and anyone and reading the newspaper. Word out of France was that the casualties were exceedingly high with an even split between baseline humans there to show their support for their mutant friends and families and mutants themselves. Folding the international paper in half, Terry sat it by her side on the couch and raised her cup of tea to her forehead, gently pressing the warm porcelain against the soreness that had ultimately settled right between her eyes.
There hadn't been as much death in District-X, but the structural damage across the board was far worse. Most of the damage in France had been done to temporary structures like stages and food booths or to vehicles. Entire portions of buildings in the District were uninhabitable, not to mention the businesses that had been damaged. At least the Community Centre had remained relatively unscathed and they could keep it open to use as a staging point for relief and aid.
He'd had to check a few places for Terry, but finally found her in Kyle and Arthur's suite. Shatterstar knocked at the door even though he knew he was allowed in right now, but it seemed strange to intrude on Arthur and his teacher's space.
Terry looked bad. Of course, most of the masionites looked bad after the fight in District X, and he heard there has been a mission somewhere else too, though he didn't know any details. But it was one thing to know so many were injured and another entirely to see Terry injured. Even as he padded into the en-suite he could see the ugly, hand shaped bruise on her throat.
His eyes went wide in concern, then narrowed in anger. He knew just how much force it took to leave a hand shaped bruise. He knelt by the edge of the couch like a confessor.
"Can you talk at all?" He asked, masking his concern.
Smiling a little, Terry nodded. "Aye. Just a bit sore when I do. Overextension o'm'powers, for the most part." She wanted to reach out and pat Shatterstar's hand or arm or give him a hug, but she contented herself with looking him over and reassuring herself he'd come to no harm. "You an' Julio did some good work, I heard. You ought t'bring him t'trainin' next time. Might be a bit, though."
Shatterstar nodded. "Using a sword as a tuning fork worked," he decided on saying. "I don't think either of us could have sustained the combined power otherwise." Surprisingly, he was the one to reach out to her, laying a hand on her wrist for a moment before pulling away. He knew that Terry was someone who was better off- she was here, eating her breakfast and not in the medlab but it worried him to see her this way. He was trying to not be angry she was hurt, angry when he was sure whoever hurt her got their due.
Still he has to ask. "Did whoever hurt you, on your neck. They were hurt back?"
With the softest of chuckles, Terry nodded. "I... well. I shrieked him into a wall," she admitted. "Fell down. Didn't follow me. I was nearly back t'the Community Centre by then. Caught me by surprise." She paused to take a sip of her tea, then brightened visibly. "This's helped a lot," she said. "The tea y'gave me for Christmas. So thank y'again."
Shatterstar nodded, satisfied. He had known, obviously, that Terry was more than capable of taking care of herself but the confirmation soothed his heightened emotions. "It's nothing," he said in regards to the tea, ducking his head a little. "I'm glad you like it."
"I do," Terry nodded. "It's wonderful with a bit o'honey." Then she thought of the casserole, still warm in the oven, and asked, "Have y'eaten? I've got that casserole y'like with the peppers an' onions in the oven. An' we can make some more tea."
Shatterstar knew Terry well enough by now to know that she would be more insulted if he didn't eat, and to be honest he had barely eaten since coming back from District X. And he did like that casserole. He nodded and stood. "Do you need more tea?" He asked. He didn't often drink it, but he'd make an exception for Terry.
Finishing off the cup she'd made now that it was merely lukewarm, Terry nodded. "That'd be perfect, thank y'love." She handed the cup over to him, reaching for an old, well-worn quilt draped on the back of the couch as she fought to stifle a yawn. It was good to see Shatterstar up and about, safe and well and unharmed despite the fact he'd been involved in the fighting. He'd done well at that, too. She couldn't be prouder of him, honestly, and here he was, checking on her.
Shatterstar made himself up a plate and made himself and Terry tea, even if his was really mostly milk. He went to sit at the other end of the couch after giving Terry her cuppa, so he could take advantage of the coffee table. He didn't want to admit it, but maybe Terry was onto something with this sitting down and eating something thing.
Terry sipped her tea, quietly satisfied that Shatterstar was eating the casserole. Her headache faded a bit, which probably had to do more with her not trying to squint through a sore head and tiny print. "Thank you," she finally said, her cup still warm between her palms. "For comin' t'see me an' indulgin' m'need t'feed someone. You're welcome t'take the rest of the casserole for yourself or your friends."
"I know much better than to deny you that need," Shatterstar said seriously, even though he was teasing her. He eventually moved to be sitting closer to her as he slowly finished the casserole, taking the second to truly rest.
Chuckling softly, Terry murmured, "It's appreciated, love." She placed her tea on the end table and leaned her head back against the cushion of the couch, closing her eyes for a moment -- well. She intended for it to be a moment, but between the tea, her exhaustion, and her generalised sense of intense worry, she found herself struggling to open them again. The dark was nice, soft and soothing, and before she realized what was happening, Terry had drifted off. Her head tipped just a bit to the side as she fully relaxed and ended up resting against Shatterstar's shoulder -- quiet, comfortable, and safe.
