Sapiens Foundation - Contact is made
Sep. 23rd, 2024 03:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xp_trance posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
xp_logsCurious, Ayame decides to reach out and meet Sooraya, Angelo and JPC in a park.
The sky was overcast, dark clouds continuously threatening to drop their heavy load of water and soaking everything. Little drops of water still clung to the leaves from earlier rain showers and the scent of wet grass filled the air. Perfect weather for a discrete meetup as there were so few people in the park.
"Hi, Ayame", Angelo said with a gentle smile as the three approached. "Thanks for getting in touch. This is my husband, Jean-Phillipe."
"Nice to meet you." It was unclear what Ayame had been expecting when she had reached out, but it was obvious the third party made her nervous. Still, she managed to return the smile, even if it was a little nervous. "Thank you for coming," she said, eyes flicking from Jean-Phillipe to Angelo. "I hope it's not too much trouble . . ."
"Of course not, Ayame. We wouldn't have given you our card if it was an issue. I promise." Sooraya smiled gently. "Were you able to get here okay?"
"Yes. I just took an Uber to Kinokuniya." She raised a bag vaguely. It may have been an excuse to come to the city, but its contents indicated someone with a significant stationary addiction.
Angelo grinned. "Always good to get some shopping in while you're here. How long do you have before you have to get back?"
"I told them about two hours. I was going to get lunch." Ayame hesitated, considering various avenues of conversation before giving up.
"Sorry. I've never really talked to other mutants before."
"That's okay. And two hours should be plenty." Sooraya quickly stilled the frown threatening to pull over her face. "I am really glad you decided to reach out to us. Why don't you tell us a little about yourself and what made you call us?"
Plastic crinkled as the girl's hands twisted around the bag. "I don't know, really," Ayame confessed. "Like I said, I've never met any other mutants. My power is too dangerous for mainstream schooling, so . . ." As at the fundraiser, one hand sought the top of the opposite to reassure herself the gloves were still present. "At events I try to keep to myself because I can't control it without a suit. I was lucky anyone adopted me at all. I guess I thought . . . well, you were so nice . . ."
Jean-Phillipe snorted, but in a clear self-deprecating sort of fashion. "A carefully crafted ruse, do not believe anything my husband tells you about cuddling and blanket thievery," he told the young woman, putting on his most non-threatening smile. This was hardly the place to bring out the nominally-reformed Brotherhood truc. He glanced at the gloves, lost briefly in memory. "You are...not the only one who started from a place without control," he told her, pushing his usual past-the-wrist sleeves up his forearms to display faded Lichtenberg scarring branching its way up his forearms.
The girl, who had taken an instinctive step back the moment he began rolling up his sleeves, frowned. "What happened?" she asked.
A very Gallic shrug was Jean-Phillipe's natural response. "That is quite the extended story," he told her. "But in the broad strokes, my power came on me suddenly, and resistance to electricity did not develop until I had been using it for a time." His eyes flicked upwards as he considered how much honesty was called for. "I was lucky in that I had a...mentor who was very knowledgeable and taught me in my power's use."
"Oh," said Ayame, with the automatic certainty of one parroting a life-long lesson, "but my power isn't . . .I mean, I can't . . ."
"Who knows what your power might be?" Jean-Phillipe asked gently. "With time, and practice, and study, the same as you would any other skill."
A short burst of laughter escaped the girl's throat, incredulous. "Except calligraphy can't start fires or send people to the hospital," she countered, and for the first time the meek demeanor cracked, allowing bitterness to seep through.
"But learning to be a fire dancer could," was the counter. "The circus arts are tres en vogue currently. Learning what your powers can and cannot do in a safe environment should not be any more taboo." Perhaps that was wishful thinking, but that was the Frenchman's own personal dream.
"I guess." Ayame seemed wistful, but then reality reasserted itself. Her shoulders slumped.
"I'd like to try, but my parents would never send me to a place like that," she said finally. "I have obligations to the Foundation. If I lost control and someone found out, I mean . . . we've worked so hard to get where we are. It would ruin everything."
"How about you come to us?" Angelo suggested. "Jean-Philippe can help you, and our house has a place for mutants to learn about their powers safely."
Ayame blinked. "Come to you? But . . . you don't even know me . . ."
Her hesitation was telling. These weren't the words of someone who disliked the idea, but of someone who believed they should. Everything about her tone and body language begged to be given an excuse.
"People helped us when we needed to learn about our powers and now we try to help others who need the same thing, Ayame." Sooraya simply said. "But we understand that it doesn't work for everyone. There might be other options." Glancing over, Sooraya tilted her head. "Do you think you could maybe show her a few things in the next few days if we found a place around here? If you would like that, Ayame?"
"Well, if I'm going to be in the city anyway that should be okay . . ." It was clear that last, gentle push was all she needed. Ayame radiated a desperation for human contact that had nothing to do with the rubberized suit and gloves she wore. She glanced at Jean-Phillipe, her dark eyes falling back to the scars of his exposed forearms. "You're sure it will be safe? I don't want anyone to get hurt."
Jean-Phillipe nodded firmly. "Certainment. It is the entire purpose of the place we live - a safe place to be oneself and learn about your abilities." To him there was no real difference between the Professor's and Erik's goals, both wanted safety and a freedom from fear. The difference was the approach to that goal. "Control may not be an overnight thing, but it will happen. It starts by not being afraid of your powers."
The girl's mouth thinned, doubtful, but in the end she nodded.
"Okay. I'll try."
The sky was overcast, dark clouds continuously threatening to drop their heavy load of water and soaking everything. Little drops of water still clung to the leaves from earlier rain showers and the scent of wet grass filled the air. Perfect weather for a discrete meetup as there were so few people in the park.
"Hi, Ayame", Angelo said with a gentle smile as the three approached. "Thanks for getting in touch. This is my husband, Jean-Phillipe."
"Nice to meet you." It was unclear what Ayame had been expecting when she had reached out, but it was obvious the third party made her nervous. Still, she managed to return the smile, even if it was a little nervous. "Thank you for coming," she said, eyes flicking from Jean-Phillipe to Angelo. "I hope it's not too much trouble . . ."
"Of course not, Ayame. We wouldn't have given you our card if it was an issue. I promise." Sooraya smiled gently. "Were you able to get here okay?"
"Yes. I just took an Uber to Kinokuniya." She raised a bag vaguely. It may have been an excuse to come to the city, but its contents indicated someone with a significant stationary addiction.
Angelo grinned. "Always good to get some shopping in while you're here. How long do you have before you have to get back?"
"I told them about two hours. I was going to get lunch." Ayame hesitated, considering various avenues of conversation before giving up.
"Sorry. I've never really talked to other mutants before."
"That's okay. And two hours should be plenty." Sooraya quickly stilled the frown threatening to pull over her face. "I am really glad you decided to reach out to us. Why don't you tell us a little about yourself and what made you call us?"
Plastic crinkled as the girl's hands twisted around the bag. "I don't know, really," Ayame confessed. "Like I said, I've never met any other mutants. My power is too dangerous for mainstream schooling, so . . ." As at the fundraiser, one hand sought the top of the opposite to reassure herself the gloves were still present. "At events I try to keep to myself because I can't control it without a suit. I was lucky anyone adopted me at all. I guess I thought . . . well, you were so nice . . ."
Jean-Phillipe snorted, but in a clear self-deprecating sort of fashion. "A carefully crafted ruse, do not believe anything my husband tells you about cuddling and blanket thievery," he told the young woman, putting on his most non-threatening smile. This was hardly the place to bring out the nominally-reformed Brotherhood truc. He glanced at the gloves, lost briefly in memory. "You are...not the only one who started from a place without control," he told her, pushing his usual past-the-wrist sleeves up his forearms to display faded Lichtenberg scarring branching its way up his forearms.
The girl, who had taken an instinctive step back the moment he began rolling up his sleeves, frowned. "What happened?" she asked.
A very Gallic shrug was Jean-Phillipe's natural response. "That is quite the extended story," he told her. "But in the broad strokes, my power came on me suddenly, and resistance to electricity did not develop until I had been using it for a time." His eyes flicked upwards as he considered how much honesty was called for. "I was lucky in that I had a...mentor who was very knowledgeable and taught me in my power's use."
"Oh," said Ayame, with the automatic certainty of one parroting a life-long lesson, "but my power isn't . . .I mean, I can't . . ."
"Who knows what your power might be?" Jean-Phillipe asked gently. "With time, and practice, and study, the same as you would any other skill."
A short burst of laughter escaped the girl's throat, incredulous. "Except calligraphy can't start fires or send people to the hospital," she countered, and for the first time the meek demeanor cracked, allowing bitterness to seep through.
"But learning to be a fire dancer could," was the counter. "The circus arts are tres en vogue currently. Learning what your powers can and cannot do in a safe environment should not be any more taboo." Perhaps that was wishful thinking, but that was the Frenchman's own personal dream.
"I guess." Ayame seemed wistful, but then reality reasserted itself. Her shoulders slumped.
"I'd like to try, but my parents would never send me to a place like that," she said finally. "I have obligations to the Foundation. If I lost control and someone found out, I mean . . . we've worked so hard to get where we are. It would ruin everything."
"How about you come to us?" Angelo suggested. "Jean-Philippe can help you, and our house has a place for mutants to learn about their powers safely."
Ayame blinked. "Come to you? But . . . you don't even know me . . ."
Her hesitation was telling. These weren't the words of someone who disliked the idea, but of someone who believed they should. Everything about her tone and body language begged to be given an excuse.
"People helped us when we needed to learn about our powers and now we try to help others who need the same thing, Ayame." Sooraya simply said. "But we understand that it doesn't work for everyone. There might be other options." Glancing over, Sooraya tilted her head. "Do you think you could maybe show her a few things in the next few days if we found a place around here? If you would like that, Ayame?"
"Well, if I'm going to be in the city anyway that should be okay . . ." It was clear that last, gentle push was all she needed. Ayame radiated a desperation for human contact that had nothing to do with the rubberized suit and gloves she wore. She glanced at Jean-Phillipe, her dark eyes falling back to the scars of his exposed forearms. "You're sure it will be safe? I don't want anyone to get hurt."
Jean-Phillipe nodded firmly. "Certainment. It is the entire purpose of the place we live - a safe place to be oneself and learn about your abilities." To him there was no real difference between the Professor's and Erik's goals, both wanted safety and a freedom from fear. The difference was the approach to that goal. "Control may not be an overnight thing, but it will happen. It starts by not being afraid of your powers."
The girl's mouth thinned, doubtful, but in the end she nodded.
"Okay. I'll try."
