[The dream takes a turn. It all twists ominously; and Henry knows that this might be the outside influence of her mind, rather than what happened beat-by-beat, but even this knowledge is just as vital as the rest.
After all, meeting her eyes with his own, there's nothing he can do. He's almost sorry for her. Her life has begun its change at someone else's behest, and no doubt she'll find herself stuck on this path she's agreed upon, when she was too young to agree upon anything. You can never go back.
Trapped, in a way, like he was.
But then the memory slips away, and the chimes ring out.
...He opens his eyes. How long has it been? Henry's still seated at the edge of his bed, and his limbs feel sore from keeping this position for so long. He raises a hand to his nostril, feeling the slightest warm wetness there. A small amount of blood, eking.
A smile cracks across his face. Back to normal, it seems. Still, those windchimes... Are they still singing after he's "awoken"?]
[The clock in his room reads about ten minutes until ten o'clock. Not terribly late for a weekend, but for Amelia it may be. There's a wind chime that also hovers over Henry and when he awakes, it chirps and tingles its greetings and flies away back to the ceiling in the living room.
In the hallway, he can hear the sound of the witch's door creaking open but she doesn't step out. There's a muffled noise, of her slumping down against the wall instead.
All is silent now and an uneasy peace washes over the house.
Amelia is sitting against the wall, running a hand through her hair, trying to compose herself. But her thoughts are jumbled and confused; lingering in that memory of her parents, her father who held her in his arms when he returned, the unconditional love that she held onto for all those years as proof that someone valued her during those dark, dark times.
It was supposed to be a comforting memory but the vividness and clarity of that time was so blinding as a dream. She feels drained. The longing that she thinks she's tamped down comes back as the grief that never really disappeared.]
... Give me five minutes more Only five minutes more... Let me stay...
[Her voice floats down the hallway and stops as she stands up. When she makes it to the kitchen, Amelia takes a deep breath and starts making some coffee. She clears her mind. A new feeling takes over.
There are embers of irritation that are slowly turning into a fire.]
[Welp. He doesn't know if Amelia will be aware of his presence in her head, because all of it could simply be passed off as a dream. The easiest way to go about this is... to admit to nothing, to play dumb, to go about the morning as usual. He looks at the clock; almost ten. Even if it's a weekend, that's late, even for Henry.
So he dresses for the day, makes himself perfectly presentable from head to toe, and emerges from his room (did he hear her voice just a minute ago?) to walk down the corridor. He's guided into the kitchen where he assumes she is, the scent of coffee catching in his nostrils.]
Smells good. But it's a late start to your morning today, isn't it?
[Amelia is busying herself by cutting up some bread for toast. Her thoughts are focused on the task at hand but her words cut to the chase.]
The disabling rune has faded away.
[The serrated knife cuts through the thick crust. There's no follow-up from her, she just waits for Henry to reply as she puts the slices on the tray making no eye contact with him.]
[He stands quietly at the entrance to the kitchen, hands clasped behind his back. He listens to the faint, faint sound of her knife cutting through the bread.]
[She moves to the fridge next to take out the accompaniments; butter, jam, cheese for a more savory option, and sets them on the counter. The oven beeps, and the preheating is completed.]
It was always on a time limit. I neglected to mention it.
[Her voice is even and controlled. It has the air of a matter-of-fact teacher who is bidding her time before getting deeper into the depths of the students' mishaps.]
So last night would have been when it disappeared.
[She neglected to mention it. Oh, he doubts that. He thinks she purposefully did not mention it, maybe to keep him a little "tamer" for as long as possible while she could.]
Oh?
[girl he ain't admitting to shit,]
Really? I guess I do feel a little different today. Like a restraint's been lifted from my mind. [A small shrug.] I should go around town, see if I can pick up on more thoughts than usual.
[The sound of a ceramic mug cracking interrupts Henry. It had been sitting on the counter but broke on its own all of a sudden.
Or rather, someone is barely keeping their temper at bay and her magic that is linked to the house is acting up in tandem with her emotions. She finally turns to look at him directly. Arms crossed, green eyes ablaze, she isn't going to play games.]
Henry Creel. Did you dive into my memories last night without asking permission?
[The crack resonates throughout the kitchen. He glances at the mug, now with a fissure through it. He'd be more surprised if his own powers haven't done similarly more than once, though he supposes it's proof of her mood -- not particularly good. She's cottoned on.
The jig is up. He could deny further, but what's the point, now?
He should feel more guilty about this than he does.]
Well. It was either you or a complete stranger off the street. You interest me more.
[One of the wind chimes rings deeply and ominously, like a warning. Amelia is tapping her finger in the crook of her elbow and she continues to look at Henry unblinkingly. Even more unnerving is the shift in grain and color of her wooden cupboards, the shuddering of her bookshelves in the living room, and the whispers of her wind chimes.
The floor beneath Henry will not feel as solid and sturdy. The magic that the witch emits is palpable; it always has been but she's kept it under wraps until now.
When she speaks up once again, her voice is low and her question direct.]
[Another shift in the air. The way the house groans, the windchimes angry. Oh, she's definitely upset, and her magic is thrumming through the atmosphere, practically cloying.
And yet, somehow, this still feels like a challenge to Henry. Since when has he needed permission? The only time he's had his abilities dampened, or given permission to use them, is in the lab. Restricted, restrained, treated like a thing rather than a person. Amelia's been far more gracious to him, yes, but he was still limited, and now she wants him to ask permission?
It's not like he tore through her mind, twisting up memories to make them worse. He was just an observer.]
No.
[No getting around that. But.]
But I don't like being told what I can and can't do. When I can and can't do it. It's just a little peek behind the curtain, Amelia. I just wanted to see inside; what it looked like without you trying to obscure... any of it.
People live behind a mask; I told you that. And we've been living together long enough that I wonder about yours sometimes. That's all.
[Yeah, that's his reasoning. Psychics, man. He just watches her as she paces back and forth, remaining in his spot.]
I didn't do anything but watch. I went where your mind took me. [Spoken as though she should be grateful that's all he did!] It was just a test. It won't become a nightly routine, if that's what you're worried about.
Masks?! That's basically a given! You are literally in a world where at least a fourth of the population mask themselves every day, myself included! You're not being deep, Henry!
[Sure that's not what he technically means and she's being more shrill but she feels justified in her ranting. Her wind chimes are swaying back and forth and it's a cacophony of metal tubes and glass.]
Boundaries! It's called having boundaries and I would like to think I haven't overstepped yours but clearly you've never respected mine or anyone's to begin with!
[And probably the most damning question of all to him as she stops pacing and glares.]
Do you even see me as a person? Is anyone someone or are they just things, to you Henry Creel?!
[Wow. He's really lit a fuse. He should nearly be impressed with himself, but there is the niggling feeling that he needs to approach this with a little more care than he assumed in the first place. That glare of hers might as well cut like a dagger, and her tone is not exactly forgiving.
So. What to say?
Especially to a question like that?]
I appreciate all you've done for me so far if that's what you're asking.
[That isn't what she's asking, is it. But this is playing it safe without really answering her accusation-question.]
[Oh no, she's not letting him get away with that response. Henry will find that the floor is moving beneath him to bring him closer to Amelia, just a foot away from her face where he can see her eyes burning with anger.]
You didn't answer my question. I don't appreciate that.
[She takes a deep breath and then a step back to calm herself down. Her magic going haywire even if contained inside the house won't help matters. Amelia isn't done talking; one hand is running through her hair and notably it creates sparks as she does so.]
If you couldn't tell by that memory you aren't the first person to see me as a thing.
[It's a bitter admittance, an expulsion of poison; he had seen her moment of weakness and the self she hated the most.]
But to hell with you thinking that you can get away with that same thought about me.
[The flooring jerks him forward until he’s standing directly in front of Amelia, and it takes an effort for him not to go toppling over from the sudden stop. He lurches a foot in front of him, and for a moment, that polite little smile of his cracks. It twists into a frown. Blue eyes flick up at her, brow wrinkling.
You aren't the first person to see me as a thing.]
So that’s what this is about?
[He straightens, and a little more understanding sieves into him, belated as it is. A twist of disgust filters into his otherwise steady tone.]
I’m not like that man. Toying with someone’s life just because they’re curious about what they can do to them. [IS THIS TRUE, HENRY? CITATION NEEDED. Though in his defense, he thinks all of the pain he's caused anyone was either deserved or necessary.] I’ve been on the other side of that, too. Treated like a thing. A number.
[No, he’s not like Papa.
(The problem being that, despite this belief, there are times in which he thinks all humans are the same, and in that sameness, they are unremarkable. Lowered into the same category as lesser, so much that they might as well be things. He does not register this hypocrisy.)]
It's not that complicated. You weren’t forthcoming when I asked you about him. You haven’t been since. Can you blame me for being curious?
[His last statement astounds her and she shakes her head in disbelief.]
You could have waited. You could have even tried to broach the subject again and I would have tried to level with you. I wanted to be the one to decide when to talk.
[Their situation with one another was supposed to be clear-cut. Henry Creel was an unexpected guest in her world; a dangerous one but even after their explosive first meeting, she felt like she did her part to at least hear him out, to shield him from the more convoluted and complex system of the Collective, and to carve a path back. That last part was always going to be a long process.
She's probably the fool in this case. With their proximity, maybe it was only natural he'd be curious about her even if they were both treating this as temporary.]
All I'm hearing is that you decided to take that one thing away from me. As if you're entitled to it.
[He has an argument launched on his tongue, but Henry is aware enough to know that it wouldn't be appreciated; and mostly only because he is also aware that much of the ease of his existence in this world is thanks to her. He would be a fool to put that into danger by testing her patience, and shattering her trust. He thinks the might have come a little too close to the latter in his haste to test out his powers, to learn more about her.
So, his lips twist. He has the look of someone who is thinking something else, not aligning with what he says.]
I never thought of it like that. [I can do what I please.] I just wanted to test my powers, Amelia. That's all it really amounted to. [I am entitled to do what I want.]
[For Amelia, the Witch King was the sort of creature who said things and technically expected her to figure out if they actually aligned with his own frustratingly incomprehensible thoughts or not. He was a monster of whimsy and sudden decisions who had no regrets because he wouldn't be able to regret something he could easily reverse with his vast godlike power (if the god was a writer who constantly liked scratching out notes and adding on top of their nonsensically layered ideas).
Henry had just said he wasn't the same as him. That she believes.
But after being under her teacher's thumb for those decades, she's also heard variations of the psychic's words, downplaying the implicit violation, lessening the gravity of personal action against her. Clearly, she could get over it. What's one more wound if she's already survived death by a thousand cuts?
The anger fades from her eyes and then her brows and lips straighten into a thin line. Picture perfect neutrality, practiced after dealing with the Witch King and being his "closest child."
(But Henry can probably sense it, her thoughts simmering beneath the surface, vicious, hurt, tired; it is a potent mixture).
It's a whole minute and a half before Amelia speaks up. And what she says next may be unexpected.]
But moreover, the way her face falls into neutrality is more than telling. He wouldn't even need to read her mind to tell something is roiling beneath the surface.]
There are less than four weeks remaining in the school year.
[Amelia's face remains dry and impassive as she takes out her phone and scrolls through her apps.]
After finals and the graduation ceremony, I am planning to dedicate my summer vacation to your plight. My acquaintance is taking her time to assist me in the endeavor so you must understand, we're taking care of it.
Meanwhile, if you're going to keep up this behavior without any true self-reflection on how offended and disrespected I feel...
[Her finger taps a specific app; hello music streaming... She pats one of her kitchen drawers and it pops open for her to produce a pair of wireless headphones. It's a very nice pair gifted to her by a student which she hadn't found a use for until now.]
[His lips twist at both the explanation and when she pulls out the headphones.]
Yes. I wasn't lying about that.
[That it was a test; and now what is she planning on doing? Henry stands stoically, watching. As much as he should feel grateful that she's still willing to aid him, some part of this begins to rub him the wrong way, regardless.]
[And with extreme spite in her gaze, she puts on the headphones and presses play on her phone. So guess what will happen if Henry tries to glean a thought or attempt a dive?]
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh Caught in a bad romance...!
[Well, someone has enchanted her headphones to act as an effective blocker for psychics abilities.]
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sunfloras2023-04-20 07:42 pm
no subject
After all, meeting her eyes with his own, there's nothing he can do. He's almost sorry for her. Her life has begun its change at someone else's behest, and no doubt she'll find herself stuck on this path she's agreed upon, when she was too young to agree upon anything. You can never go back.
Trapped, in a way, like he was.
But then the memory slips away, and the chimes ring out.
...He opens his eyes. How long has it been? Henry's still seated at the edge of his bed, and his limbs feel sore from keeping this position for so long. He raises a hand to his nostril, feeling the slightest warm wetness there. A small amount of blood, eking.
A smile cracks across his face. Back to normal, it seems. Still, those windchimes... Are they still singing after he's "awoken"?]
no subject
In the hallway, he can hear the sound of the witch's door creaking open but she doesn't step out. There's a muffled noise, of her slumping down against the wall instead.
All is silent now and an uneasy peace washes over the house.
Amelia is sitting against the wall, running a hand through her hair, trying to compose herself. But her thoughts are jumbled and confused; lingering in that memory of her parents, her father who held her in his arms when he returned, the unconditional love that she held onto for all those years as proof that someone valued her during those dark, dark times.
It was supposed to be a comforting memory but the vividness and clarity of that time was so blinding as a dream. She feels drained. The longing that she thinks she's tamped down comes back as the grief that never really disappeared.]
... Give me five minutes more
Only five minutes more...
Let me stay...
[Her voice floats down the hallway and stops as she stands up. When she makes it to the kitchen, Amelia takes a deep breath and starts making some coffee. She clears her mind. A new feeling takes over.
There are embers of irritation that are slowly turning into a fire.]
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So he dresses for the day, makes himself perfectly presentable from head to toe, and emerges from his room (did he hear her voice just a minute ago?) to walk down the corridor. He's guided into the kitchen where he assumes she is, the scent of coffee catching in his nostrils.]
Smells good. But it's a late start to your morning today, isn't it?
[Hi.]
no subject
The disabling rune has faded away.
[The serrated knife cuts through the thick crust. There's no follow-up from her, she just waits for Henry to reply as she puts the slices on the tray making no eye contact with him.]
no subject
Straight to it, then.]
It has. How'd you guess?
[He stands quietly at the entrance to the kitchen, hands clasped behind his back. He listens to the faint, faint sound of her knife cutting through the bread.]
no subject
It was always on a time limit. I neglected to mention it.
[Her voice is even and controlled. It has the air of a matter-of-fact teacher who is bidding her time before getting deeper into the depths of the students' mishaps.]
So last night would have been when it disappeared.
no subject
Oh?
[girl he ain't admitting to shit,]
Really? I guess I do feel a little different today. Like a restraint's been lifted from my mind. [A small shrug.] I should go around town, see if I can pick up on more thoughts than usual.
no subject
Or rather, someone is barely keeping their temper at bay and her magic that is linked to the house is acting up in tandem with her emotions. She finally turns to look at him directly. Arms crossed, green eyes ablaze, she isn't going to play games.]
Henry Creel. Did you dive into my memories last night without asking permission?
no subject
The jig is up. He could deny further, but what's the point, now?
He should feel more guilty about this than he does.]
Well. It was either you or a complete stranger off the street. You interest me more.
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The floor beneath Henry will not feel as solid and sturdy. The magic that the witch emits is palpable; it always has been but she's kept it under wraps until now.
When she speaks up once again, her voice is low and her question direct.]
Did I give you permission? Yes or no?
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And yet, somehow, this still feels like a challenge to Henry. Since when has he needed permission? The only time he's had his abilities dampened, or given permission to use them, is in the lab. Restricted, restrained, treated like a thing rather than a person. Amelia's been far more gracious to him, yes, but he was still limited, and now she wants him to ask permission?
It's not like he tore through her mind, twisting up memories to make them worse. He was just an observer.]
No.
[No getting around that. But.]
But I don't like being told what I can and can't do. When I can and can't do it. It's just a little peek behind the curtain, Amelia. I just wanted to see inside; what it looked like without you trying to obscure... any of it.
no subject
Are you serious?]
Are you serious?
[oh and she asks that aloud, how consistent
Amelia starts pacing back and forth throwing her arms in the air.]
The hell kind of reasoning is that?! Telepaths, I swear to god...!
[not her first rodeo as already established, though the memory diving is definitely new and uncomfortable territory]
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People live behind a mask; I told you that. And we've been living together long enough that I wonder about yours sometimes. That's all.
[Yeah, that's his reasoning. Psychics, man. He just watches her as she paces back and forth, remaining in his spot.]
I didn't do anything but watch. I went where your mind took me. [Spoken as though she should be grateful that's all he did!] It was just a test. It won't become a nightly routine, if that's what you're worried about.
no subject
[Sure that's not what he technically means and she's being more shrill but she feels justified in her ranting. Her wind chimes are swaying back and forth and it's a cacophony of metal tubes and glass.]
Boundaries! It's called having boundaries and I would like to think I haven't overstepped yours but clearly you've never respected mine or anyone's to begin with!
[And probably the most damning question of all to him as she stops pacing and glares.]
Do you even see me as a person? Is anyone someone or are they just things, to you Henry Creel?!
no subject
So. What to say?
Especially to a question like that?]
I appreciate all you've done for me so far if that's what you're asking.
[That isn't what she's asking, is it. But this is playing it safe without really answering her accusation-question.]
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You didn't answer my question. I don't appreciate that.
[She takes a deep breath and then a step back to calm herself down. Her magic going haywire even if contained inside the house won't help matters. Amelia isn't done talking; one hand is running through her hair and notably it creates sparks as she does so.]
If you couldn't tell by that memory you aren't the first person to see me as a thing.
[It's a bitter admittance, an expulsion of poison; he had seen her moment of weakness and the self she hated the most.]
But to hell with you thinking that you can get away with that same thought about me.
no subject
You aren't the first person to see me as a thing.]
So that’s what this is about?
[He straightens, and a little more understanding sieves into him, belated as it is. A twist of disgust filters into his otherwise steady tone.]
I’m not like that man. Toying with someone’s life just because they’re curious about what they can do to them. [IS THIS TRUE, HENRY? CITATION NEEDED. Though in his defense, he thinks all of the pain he's caused anyone was either deserved or necessary.] I’ve been on the other side of that, too. Treated like a thing. A number.
[No, he’s not like Papa.
(The problem being that, despite this belief, there are times in which he thinks all humans are the same, and in that sameness, they are unremarkable. Lowered into the same category as lesser, so much that they might as well be things. He does not register this hypocrisy.)]
It's not that complicated. You weren’t forthcoming when I asked you about him. You haven’t been since. Can you blame me for being curious?
no subject
[His last statement astounds her and she shakes her head in disbelief.]
You could have waited. You could have even tried to broach the subject again and I would have tried to level with you. I wanted to be the one to decide when to talk.
[Their situation with one another was supposed to be clear-cut. Henry Creel was an unexpected guest in her world; a dangerous one but even after their explosive first meeting, she felt like she did her part to at least hear him out, to shield him from the more convoluted and complex system of the Collective, and to carve a path back. That last part was always going to be a long process.
She's probably the fool in this case. With their proximity, maybe it was only natural he'd be curious about her even if they were both treating this as temporary.]
All I'm hearing is that you decided to take that one thing away from me. As if you're entitled to it.
no subject
So, his lips twist. He has the look of someone who is thinking something else, not aligning with what he says.]
I never thought of it like that. [I can do what I please.] I just wanted to test my powers, Amelia. That's all it really amounted to. [I am entitled to do what I want.]
no subject
Henry had just said he wasn't the same as him. That she believes.
But after being under her teacher's thumb for those decades, she's also heard variations of the psychic's words, downplaying the implicit violation, lessening the gravity of personal action against her. Clearly, she could get over it. What's one more wound if she's already survived death by a thousand cuts?
The anger fades from her eyes and then her brows and lips straighten into a thin line. Picture perfect neutrality, practiced after dealing with the Witch King and being his "closest child."
(But Henry can probably sense it, her thoughts simmering beneath the surface, vicious, hurt, tired; it is a potent mixture).
It's a whole minute and a half before Amelia speaks up. And what she says next may be unexpected.]
Henry.
[Her voice is serenely monotone.]
I am not going to disable your powers again.
no subject
But moreover, the way her face falls into neutrality is more than telling. He wouldn't even need to read her mind to tell something is roiling beneath the surface.]
Is there a "but" at the end of that, Amelia...?
[Because to him, it sounds rather like it.]
no subject
[Amelia's face remains dry and impassive as she takes out her phone and scrolls through her apps.]
After finals and the graduation ceremony, I am planning to dedicate my summer vacation to your plight. My acquaintance is taking her time to assist me in the endeavor so you must understand, we're taking care of it.
Meanwhile, if you're going to keep up this behavior without any true self-reflection on how offended and disrespected I feel...
[Her finger taps a specific app; hello music streaming... She pats one of her kitchen drawers and it pops open for her to produce a pair of wireless headphones. It's a very nice pair gifted to her by a student which she hadn't found a use for until now.]
What was it you said? It was just a test?
no subject
Yes. I wasn't lying about that.
[That it was a test; and now what is she planning on doing? Henry stands stoically, watching. As much as he should feel grateful that she's still willing to aid him, some part of this begins to rub him the wrong way, regardless.]
1/2
[As she holds her headphones, green runes cover its surface.]
Starting today, we are not on speaking terms.
But I won't let you in my head without permission either.
no subject
[And with extreme spite in her gaze, she puts on the headphones and presses play on her phone. So guess what will happen if Henry tries to glean a thought or attempt a dive?]
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh
Caught in a bad romance...!
[Well, someone has enchanted her headphones to act as an effective blocker for psychics abilities.]
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