xp_logs | Amanda, Manuel - Thursday mid-morning

OOC: Posted slightly early on account of Evil Time Difference...

Manuel drops by to see Amanda, only to find her sleeping. He decides to sit with her a while, and for once it's the right decision.

She had been studying for late finals. Really she had - the proof was in the Mandarin book lying on her chest. But her eyes had gotten tired, so she'd closed them for only a moment, just to rest them, and then the inevitable slide into sleep, pencil still loosely grasped in her hand and books scattered over the bed.

Manuel knocked on the door to Amanda's suite. He was sure he got the right door this time - he made extra-special care to mark it on his map. Getting no answer, he tried the doorknob - and wonders of wonders, the door was actually unlocked. He gingerly stepped into her room, expecting to have to offer apologies for invading her sanctum sanctorum, when the sight of Amanda passed out amidst a slew of books was just too precious for words. The wave of emotion very nearly knocked him off his feet. Despite all the anger, despite the bitter frustrations, despite all of that - he still loved the girl. Even if he couldn't remember why or how.

Completely unaware of Manuel's presence, Amanda murmured something unintelligible - she always had been a fairly vocal sleeper - and half-turned, the Mandarin book sliding off her front to join the others. Her hand twitched suddenly, briefly, and the pencil fell to the floor, its top slightly chewed as most of Amanda's writing materials were since she couldn't smoke while studying.

Manuel pulled her desk chair over to the side of her bed to just _watch_ her sleep - and maybe to sort out his own emotions at the same time. He felt - protective of her, which was completely absurd as he was the one who got the shit kicked out of her in the first place. He didn't do it, but he led her into the lion's den. A faint dull familiar ache was brewing inside of his head, but he let it go for the time being. He felt - something. He couldn't identify it, but it made him feel warm, both fierce and tender all at the same time. Sometimes, when he was just staring up at the ceiling at night, he'd remember - glimpses. Flashes, of bodies intertwined. Usually followed by yet another crippling headache. Almost as if something didn't want him to remember.

Another few muttered words, too low to identify, and then something very like a whimper. There were always bad dreams after a major casting, it was a fact Amanda had accepted. Of course, before the Hellfire Club, she'd had Manuel to help keep them away. Curling up a little tighter, she frowned a little, even in her sleep. Around her neck the amulet was glowing softly, gradually replacing what she'd poured into Cain.

Manuel looked at Amanda with some concern - surely that sort of thing couldn't be normal, but for some reason it just didn't bother him much. In fact, he was at war between two very inappropriate responses - one was to climb into bed next to her and hold her close, and the other involved nudity. On both their parts. As a compromise, he took her hand in his and held it. She liked physical contact - craved it, sometimes. That much he was absolutely sure of. And he remembered something about a pair of red underwear that she owned, but for the life of him he couldn't figure out why he was wearing them on his _head_ in that memory.

At the touch, she quieted a little, the frown smoothing out. Her fingers closed tightly over his - if he was thinking about going anywhere before she woke up, he was going to have to change those plans. Another string of murmured words, clearer this time, but no more coherent to him since they seemed to be in another language. One word 'kobaro' stood out.

Manuel knew that word, but he couldn't tell himself what it meant or why it was important. Just that it was. There was another word, a companion word, but he couldn't remember what it was either. Just trying was making him faintly nauseous. So he stayed at her side, holding onto her hand, thinking ~Go to sleep!~ thoughts at her with all the resources he could muster.

Unfortunately for him, his suggestion worked - but on him, not her. Inside of fifteen minutes his eyes had drifted closed and he was soon asleep.

Soothed by the touch on her hand, perhaps obeying the thoughts being directed at her so hard, Amanda shifted again slightly, sighed, and slipped into deeper sleep. Using subconsciously what Strange had taught her, she envisioned a door in her mind, away from the nightmares, and opened it...

Dust. There was dust underfoot, thick and grey. It deadened her footfalls as she walked slowly along, not sure where she was, waiting for some kind of landmark, some indication of where she was. But there was nothing, only the nagging feeling she should know.

In the distance, in the middle of a great sea of dust, stood a ruined remnants of a dance-hall. It was missing its roof and two of its walls, but the basic structure was recognizable. Sitting in the middle of the floor was Manuel. He was focusing on something on the floor in front of him. What, precisely, was impossible to tell at this distance.

The sight of Manuel sent everything clicking into place. She was in his mind, as she'd often been before... but why now? He'd made it more than clear that he didn't want to be entangled with her any more. Despite these thoughts, Amanda's feet carried her forward, in the way of dreams, without apparent input from her. Dust puffed up from beneath her boots as she walked across the bare floor, skirting gaping holes in the boards, dropping away into nothingness.

"What are you doing?" she asked as she reached him. Her voice was her own, but the accent was gone, replaced by the generic English tones of the girl she'd once been, Rack's little girl. Apparently Gemile wasn't quite as separate as she had been.

Manuel looked up at Gemile/Amanda. "Trying to put the pieces together." he said. As she got closer, she could see that he had a puzzle spread out in front of him - but it was also obvious that a good four-fifths of the pieces were missing, and the few pieces that did hook together spilled out a fragmentary picture indeed. He spent more time pawing through the dust on the ground looking for new pieces than he did fitting them into the grander scheme.

The girl frowned, hunkering down to get a closer look. "But... there's so much missing," she said slowly, confused. "There should be more. I saved more than that, I know I did." Eyes fearful, she looked up at him. "Didn't I?"

Manuel shook his head. "This is all that there is." he said sadly. "There'd be much less without what you saved for me. Some pieces are here, they're just missing in the dust. I know I can find them if I try." he said determinedly. "But it hurts me to look."

Amanda reached out and touched one of the pieces, images unspooling briefly before her eyes. Her and Manuel at Stonewall. Just a flash, and that was all. "I didn't realise," she said, pulling her hand back and wrapping her arms around herself. "I thought... I thought there was more, that you remembered me." She bit her lip. "I'm sorry. It was for nothing, wasn't it?"

Manuel shook his head. "Nope. Not for nothing. Without what you did, I would be ... this." he said. He concentrated, and another slightly transparent Manuel appeared. He was wearing a tuxedo, carrying a baby girl in his arms, and his eyes glowed red. There was a cruel cast to his features, a joy in cruelty and an unwavering devotion to Alphonso, Selene, and the Hellfire Club. At the image's feet lay a version of Amanda with a choke-chain around her neck and nothing but a worshipful need to serve Manuel in her brain. The image faded after a second, and a racking wave of nausea and pain rocked both Manuel and Amanda/Gemile. On the puzzle, two pieces crumbled into dust and disappeared.

Amanda coughed and retched a little, having fallen forward on her hands and knees as the wave of pain hit. Seeing that had made her skin crawl, and more from just the fear of seeing what might have been. Something was wrong, she knew that, more wrong than she'd realised, but exactly what it was she didn't know. It was almost like there was something preventing her from putting the pieces together. "There should be more," she insisted, clinging to that thought.

Manuel, once he recovered, shrugged. "This is all I can find right now. I'm still looking for more pieces." he said, scrabbling through the dust in the search for another piece of his mental puzzle. "Ever know you feel some way, know that you have for quite some time, and not known _why_? That when you looked for reasons, for causes, all you got was nausea and pain? Do you think that you might get a little bit angry about it?" he asked Amanda as he searched.

She nodded, sitting back on her heels. She knew what he was getting at. And it was sadly ironic that it had to be in dreams that they could talk about it. "I never said you shouldn't be angry," she said quietly. "I would be - bloody furious. But..." She dropped her head. "I miss you," she said quietly. "I try not to, I try to help and not push, but you're there in front of me, but you're not at the same time, and you're angry at me. It's not your fault, but it's not mine either."

Manuel shrugged. "I have not been kind, I know." he said sadly, pausing from his search for more puzzle pieces to look at Amanda. "And I'm sorry for that. But it's all so much to have to deal with. I see people looking at me, when they think I'm not looking at them. They're not good looks." he said with a shudder. "And I tear myself apart trying to remember sometimes. I get sick."

"I know it is. Why do you think this is tearing me up so much? I feel like a bitch for pushin', I want t' help, I just don't know how! It feels like maybe I've done enough damage already, givin' you bits an' pieces when maybe it would've been better t' start completely from scratch. Forget me properly, along with everythin' else." She couldn't do this, even here - pushing herself to her feet, she turned away from him and looked out over the desolate mindscape. "Seems like all we ever do is hurt each other."

Manuel stared at Amanda incredulously. "Is that so?" he asked her. "I don't remember any of that. How does that work, precisely? Because I know that even if I can't remember why or how or many of the specifics, I do know that I love you." he said. "And if you're telling me that we only hurt each other, what does that make me?"

"Do you? Love me? How can you love me when you don't want t' touch me, when thinkin' 'bout me makes you sick?" She glanced over at him, the South London accent coming back gradually as she spoke. "Neither of us knows anythin' 'bout love - we can't, the way we were brought up. So I hurt you, you hurt me, we make up, usually with a lot of sex. An' then start all over again." She paused, not wanting to say it, but forcing herself. Besides, chances were he wouldn't be able to remember what she'd just said. "But yer've got a second chance, t' not be that way any more, not if you don't want t' be. An' I'm just holdin' you back."

Manuel looked down at his puzzle, and ran a fingertip around a large blank spot in the framework. "That's where all of those memories should be. Right there." he said, just as the perpetual dust clouds broke overhead allowing a too-large, too-lustrous full moon to bathe the scene in its cold light. "And I never said anything about what I do or do not want. I don't REMEMBER HOW!" he said, holding his head as another arc of pain ripped through him - combined with a gleaming shaft of moonlight that seemingly pinned him to the dusty floorboards.

He was in pain. Suddenly all of it didn't matter any more, beyond the fact he was in pain... Turning back towards him, Amanda tried to step forward, but as the moonlight struck her it burned, ice-cold and deadly, and she stumbled back with a cry. Something was wrong, something was very wrong, and she could almost see what it was, if she just concentrated...

There was a loud thump, as several of the heavy textbooks on the bed fell to the floor, and Amanda woke with a start. Then the hand holding hers registered, and she looked up to see Manuel in her desk chair, asleep but not comfortably so. "Manuel?" she said, confused. There'd been something... She remembered a puzzle, with way too many pieces missing. She sat up slightly and gave his shoulder a light shake. "Manuel, wake up."

Manuel woke slowly and reluctantly. "Huh?" he said, then clutched at his head. "Owwww." he said. "My head hurts. And my shoulders hurt." He whined. "Your door was open." he said sheepishly. "And I just wanted to look at you for a while." he added.

"There's some aspirin in me desk - top drawer." Sitting up properly she gave him a curious look. "Got caught by the attack nap again - gunna be doin' that for a while, I think. Why were you...?" She stopped, not sure of how to ask, or even if she should. Again that puzzle appeared in her mind's eye, and she frowned, realising what it meant. He hadn't been able to tell her, but there were more memories missing than she'd realised. Including most of his ones of her. "Remindin' yerself?" she asked softly, not wanting to push.

Manuel stared at Amanda for a second. "Kinda." he confessed after a long pause. He let her hand go and went for the aspirin bottle, dry-swallowing three pills. "Thinking, mostly. Which is why it feels like I'm going to throw up again and why I've got this massive headache."

"I'd try an' take away some of the pain, but there's that whole 'no magic for a week' thing." Amanda looked a little embarrassed. "My teacher put a... did somethin' t' make sure I can't. Doesn't trust me not to, an' doesn't want me hurtin' meself again." Pulling her knees, up, she wrapped her arms around her legs and leaned her cheek on the top of her knees, looking across at him. "Did you... did you dream? When you were asleep?"

Manuel paused to consider her question seriously. "I think so, but I don't remember any of the details. Sorry." he said with a shrug. "Why?"

"'Cause you looked like you did," she temporised. No need to make him try and remember, not with a headache already - she knew enough to know she'd been in his head, somehow. "You don't... you don't remember that much 'bout me, do you?" she asked, then adding hastily, before her could get defensive. "'S not yer fault, 'm not blamin' you. Just... I think I understand why yer've been so frustrated with me."

Manuel shook his head. "I know your name, and kind of what your power is. I know you're English, and that you and I were... close." he said with a blush. "I know that we were... lovers, I guess is the right word, but I don't remember any of the details." he said as his face continued to burn and his body displayed that while his mind didn't remember, his body did. And wanted some more of that, thank you very much.

Amanda smiled a little at the blush - Manuel blushing was a new one for her, and she found it was actually sort of cute. And she didn't miss the other reaction, either, but she knew better than to suggest a use for it. "I thought... I didn't realise it wasn't a lot," she said, lifting her head off her knees, but not uncurling. "I thought I'd saved more 'n that, that you remembered more. It... helps, knowin' you don't. Explains things." She wanted to say she was sorry, but she was so sick of that word. And sorry wasn't going to change things. "Maybe we could start over? Go from 'Hi, I'm Amanda an' I like you'?"

"Umm, OK." he said with a very nervous smile. "I'm Manuel. And right now, I'm very ... I don't know the word." he confessed. "Just – a _lot_." he added. "And yeah, I'd like that. Because I do like you." He added quickly. "Even if I can't remember why or how, I'm pretty sure that I do."

She had to smile properly at that. "'S good t' hear," she said simply. Then she looked around at the mess of books all over the bed, and decided it was time for a study break. "Want t' come down t' the kitchen with me? 'M hungry, but I keep fallin' asleep when 'm not lookin', an' if I go by myself I'll probably end up snoozin' in the hall somewhere."

Manuel nodded enthusiastic. "Sure!" he said. "I'll be happy to come with you." he said, oblivious to the shades of meaning he'd just let slip. "Can't have you falling asleep in the middle of the hallway. That's not right." he said firmly.

"Not right at all," she agreed, unfolding and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. Standing up too quickly, she wobbled a bit. "Woah, headspin."

Manuel moved over to support her before she fell over. "Steady there," he said to her. "No falling over. That's my job." he told her with a grin. "Now, let's see if I can remember where the Kitchen is," he said with a laugh.

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