Log: Danielle and Forge

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Danielle and Forge meet face to ratchet (okay, not really. I just really like ratchets) and proceed to get to know each other. He agrees to go to the rez.



Pulling her poncho around her tightly, Dani wandered into the school garage, running one hand lightly over the cars as she looked around. A clatter on the other side of the garage caught her attention, tucked into a corner was a stripped truck and a torso leaning over the side of it.

"You dropped your ratchet," she said, picking it up and putting it on the tool caddy.

Forge reached out instinctively to the tool caddy. "Thanks, Wan-" He blinked a few times, then pulled his head up from where he'd been stripping the last remnants of the Jeep's transmission. "You're not Wanda," he noted, looking Dani up and down. Pulling himself to his knees, he took a deep breath and hammered once on the battered crankcase with his prosthetic hand, grinning as it came loose from the rusted bolts. "So, um," he began, "you'd be... Danielle?"

She nodded, trying not to notice how he knocked the bolts loose, "And you're...Forge?" she wasn't certain, but he looked like the icon.

"Last time I checked," he replied, hauling the transmission up with a block and tackle. "Christ on toast, this thing's ground into powder. Warlock," he announced to no one in particular. "amend list: one transmission, auto-five speed. Close list." He wiped his hands off on a nearby rag, then adjusted his baseball cap to keep the sweat out of his eyes. Noticing Dani standing there, he shuffled his feet self-consciously - "You, um, need something?"

"Just wandering around," Dani's response was distant, as if she wasn't quite in reality, which wasn't too far from the truth most of the time. "Why not a manual transmission?"

"Manual transmissions for a chassis this size are going to require a double-cam linkage," Forge explained, pointing to certain points on the frame. "With an automatic, I'm planning on splitting the axles here and here, using two ball-joint halfshafts. Computer controlled traction and suspension, independent to all four wheels." He squatted on the frame, spinning the ratchet idly. "You know much about cars?"

"Some," she acknowleged, looking the old transmission over, "Husband's a mechanic. I helped. Can't make traction and suspension that tight, has to be two and two for road."

Forge grinned, "Actually, you can. Just no one's done it yet. Coaxial transmission, that's the key. Reverse inline gear linkage, and you can cut down the reduction in gear power and increase torque where you need it." He paused briefly, taking in Dani's words. "Wait, husband?" He looked her over, then at her belly. "Oh yeah, right. Pregnant. How come he's not here with you?"

"If no one's done it, what makes you so cocksure?" she asked, challengingly. She didn't want to explain herself, even though she knew she'd have to eventually. "Coaxial transmission ain't real."

Forge barked out a laugh. "Not yet." He tapped the side of his head, "I invented it this morning. Along with a self-cleaning toaster, teflon insulation for undersea communications cable, and a way of curing reinforced
concrete in under two minutes. It's what I do."

One eyebrow rose in disbelief, "You talk gibberish?"

Forge's grin turned into a scowl in a matter of seconds. "Invention. I make things. Dr. McCoy says it's a specific brain mutation. Same thing that got cavemen to start tying rocks to sticks because it helped them get food. I'm just about a thousand steps faster than everyone else in that part."

He regarded Danielle with a cautious eye. "And you're some kind of telepath, right?"

Danielle nodded, "I make your fears real or at least seem real." She wasn't proud of this, "Usually only when I sleep."

"Hmm," Forge thought. "There's another empath in the school, Manuel's his name. Of course, as I understand the gossip, his powers aren't working right now. He's all amnesiac and stuff." Absently, he twirled the ratchet back and forth rapidly across his metal knuckles. "The Professor's a telepath. Strongest one on the planet, from what I hear. He can probably help you out there. Seen him yet?"

"Yeah," Danielle took the ratchet from him...it was metal. "You're going to hurt yourself, little brother," she put the ratchet away in the tool box.

"Hey!" Forge exclaimed, "I know what I'm doing with my tools. And what's with this 'little brother' crap? I already told you, that's not my style."

"It's mine. You're Cheyenne, whether you like it or not. You're my brother." Dani explained almost angerly, she didn't understand why anyone would ignore their heritage and pretend it didn't exist. It helped shape you into who you are.

"My father is Cheyenne," Forge shot back. "I'm not him. It's really not important. Whee, family history," Forge twirled a finger in the air, "what's it get me? Not anything compared to what I can make for myself."

"So what happens when you can't make things 'cause someone threw a ratchet at your head? What do you got then? Nothing but family." his attitude was pissing her off, "Family takes you in when no one else will."

Snorting loudly, Forge gestured around him. "And what do you think THIS is, girl?" He stood up, pointing at the door that led back to the school. "My family, for all you want to believe they're some kind of benevolent saints, did all but abandon me the moment they figured out they didn't know how to
control me or what I could do. Here, no one gives me shit. Here they, to use your phrase, 'took me in'."

"Family's an abstract," he declared angrily, "and not a very useful one at that. With me," he tapped his chest, "I know what I've got, and what I can depend on."

"You think you're the only one whose been hurt?" she asked, pulling her hair back behind her shoulders angrily, "My parents died, my grandparents died, my husband and his family took me in, until they found out I wasn't in control of my powers anymore! Then, I come home one day and find they packed me a backpack and don't come back until you're in control. My family has always been the tribe, every single one of them. And that includes you."

Forge instinctively backed away from Dani, the girl had some serious anger built up. Slowly, he shook his head. "Like I said, if I've got any 'tribe', it's this place," he said as he bent over to pick up his tools and arranged them in their containers. "Pardon me for thinking in THIS century, but I happen to feel a lot more kinship with people who actually understand what I'm going through, rather than folks sitting on some reservation somewhere."

"How does being a mutant suddenly change my views?" she asked, taking some deep breaths to calm down, "You can't change your genes, whether you're a mutant or Ind'in. Now you have two families, not just one. How do you know what it's like on a rez if you ain't lived there? It's the twenty-first century alright, where mutants are hung instead of Ind'ins but we're still looked on as a mistake needing to be fixed."

"You want to bond over something that's in the past, fine," Forge spat, "Me, I'm not going to blind myself like that. You got a wire crossed somewhere in that head of yours - you said it yourself, your 'Ind'in' family kicked you to the curb for being what you really are. Shows you just how far that family goes, huh?" He let the bitterness creep into his voice when he recalled the sound of fear in his mother's voice at the news that her son was x-factor positive.

"So you go here, fix your power, get control. You think they'll take you back, knowing what you are? Hey, best of luck there. But me?" He tapped his chest, "I'd rather make somewhere for myself to belong than depend on the good graces of folks who've already dumped me once."

"You'll never understand if you keep yourself closed off from your people, little brother," Danielle retorted, "Come with me to the rez one day, I'll show you. Then you can reject it."

Forge groaned, dropping his head into his hands in defeat. "Will it get you to stop harping on me about it? Fine, fine. Can't be worse than Uncle Naze's ranch."

"Sure it can," she grinned, tossing him the ratchet back, "You haven't heard my grandfathers old country records yet."