chimericalclaw | open post

[Yeah... yeah, that's about the reaction he expected, and he lets out a fatigued sigh.]

I figured, [Ferran mutters, resigned to his undoubtedly haggard appearance. But if he just stays calm, maybe it'll help the other guy chill out too? Probably worth trying. He doesn't flinch or try to pull away when Scott puts a hand on his shoulder, regardless of which one he picks—the bloody looking one or the other. The stains seem to originate from the right one, along with his left side, but his posture is only slightly slumped rather than as if he's trying to accommodate for an injury.]

I mean it, really— [he tries to reassure the other teen, putting questions about that visor and uniform into the back of his mind for now. Showing up wherever here is has already been a lot; one thing at a time.] —long story, but I'm not actually hurt anymore. How far is the clinic, though...?

[He's not injured, but he is tired as hell. Why's it have to be so bright, anyway? It was like half til midnight fifteen minutes ago.]

[His hand remains on the clean shoulder, eyes unseen behind that visor but clearly still focused, like he's trying to read the other teen and spot any lies that he may be giving him. If he's not actually injured, does that mean this blood belongs to someone else? Something else? Maybe he should be more cautious, but Scott isn't about to just abandon him when the other is still so clearly tired. Worn down.

Hell, maybe he just has an instant healing factor?? Like that one mutant he saw. But that doesn't explain the black crack that's running across his jaw, a mark that's impossible to ignore. It really reminds him of the corruption, but that doesn't feel entirely correct either.

Many questions run through Scott's mind, but first, clinic. He nudges Ferran to wrap an arm around his shoulders, before he starts leading the way. There's something unmistakably bossy about him--]

Not far, we'll get there. Do I need to keep an eye out for whatever it is that attacked you?

[Ferran blinks with what mild surprise he's able to express, worn out as he is, but he lets Scott take his arm and maneuver him without any protest. His steps are slow but only slightly unsteady—not enough to worry he'll fall over, necessarily, but if Scott wants him to go anywhere any time soon, the support is a good idea.

Bossy is fine. Sometimes he likes bossy. Probably a better idea than letting him be in charge...

He opens his mouth to reply, but the only thing that leaves him for the first few seconds is an audible sigh.]

... no, that's nothing to worry about.

[His head still feels fuzzy, like it's full of solid fog, but he still manages to wonder how his "attackers" are doing. He doesn't seem to be paying much attention to the surroundings as they make their way through the streets.]

[It's always nice when people just go along with him without complaining. People should do that all the time, really. His ideas are always good.

Genuinely though, he's glad that the other teen isn't putting up a fight at all as he starts leading them to the clinic. Every so often, his eyes drift over to Ferran whenever he feels him stumble, hand tightening around his arm as if reassuring him that he has him.

Also, don't fall over!!

He really doesn't know what's going on with him though. His answer both worrying and reassuring in its own way. Good that he doesn't have to worry about any outside force, but what does it say about his current companion? Scott has to know more, learn more, especially if he's one of the people brought here.]

So, going to explain the black cracks on your face?

[Not to mention there's something familiar about him...]

[He won't fall over, okay! He might just... be a little wobbly. It's fine.

For a moment, Ferran looks back at Scott's visored face with not much comprehension. And even when he realizes what the guy's talking about—he hasn't exactly been looking in the mirror a lot lately—the answer doesn't come much easier.]

Uh...

[Asking him to explain something he doesn't actually understand much himself? It's a losing battle.]

I don't know if I can.

[.......? What does that supposed to mean????? Does he not understand the marks himself? Or doesn't think Scott would be able to understand? He's not cursed in such a way if he tries to talk about he'll explode, right? Because that would be super intense. Either way, Ferran will get a slight side stare from his rescuer, head tilted and mouth tugged down in such a way to express exasperation, fully observable despite his visor mostly covering his expression otherwise.

He's just good at giving people that kind of face. Lots of practice.]

Uh, why?

[Ferran gradually turns a look of his own back to Scott, eyebrows rising a little helplessly.]

Because I don't really know...?

[Don't judge him! It's not his fault his attempted-murderer turned kidnapper didn't explain all the details of the weird curse shit he placed! A little defeated, he admits:]

I'm way in over my head, if I'm honest with you...

So, you just got them?

[If that's the case, he's acting pretty blasé about it?? More squinting from underneath that visor. Okay, he probably needs to grab someone who is good with magic and shit to take a look at this guy. Or he can take a picture and show it over the network-- it will get the fastest results!! He's about efficiency in this sort of situation.

And if the other teen is uncomfortable? Well, he'll have to deal with it.]

Are you not worried about it?

["Just"? Did he just get them? How long has it been since that sharp feeling spread from flickers into something more permanent? He hasn't even been counting the sunsets, let alone looking at a calendar.]

I don't even know what day it is.

[The fact that he's even thinking about this now—it's nothing short of a miracle, he thinks, and he's got a lot more concerns than the magical marks on his skin. If he seems a little dazed, that's because he's actually trying to get his brain to work on more than moving his legs. Unfortunately, trying to look upwards to identify the buildings around him makes him lose his balance—hopefully you're ready for that, Scott.]

[Definitely not worrying at all.

He's pretty much figured that the other teen has just arrived from something shitty back home, escaping an attack that's led to the black marks on his face. It sort of makes sense, being attacked, running away, and being infected with something while not knowing the time or day at all. Yeah, if he doesn't know that much, he probably doesn't even know about the possible infection that's hitting him. His frown deepens, along with that concern, his pace maybe hurrying just a bit so that he can get this guy to someone that would have more knowledge about these kind of things.

Well, that was the intention at least--]

Hey-- watch out!

[Scott stumbles with Ferran and just barely catches himself from completely falling over with the other, his feet sliding against the ground as his arms carry the weight that's suddenly increased against him.] Come on man, don't collapse on me now-- if you need to, just close your eyes. Or. Hop on my back.

[He says, mostly confident that he can hold his weight. Mostly.]

Whoa—

[Yeah, that's what he gets for trying to do anything but pay attention to what's in front of him after he's lost who knows how much blood, huh. He shakes his head to try to dismiss the dizziness and straighten back up with Scott's help, and though he does lean some of his weight on the other guy, he still plans to stay on his own feet.]

Sorry, [he mutters.] I can walk, really. Mostly. Just gotta pay attention...

[Besides, he's a little taller than this guy, even if he might be strong... better to not risk it and embarrass both of them. Though, Ferran is noticing more about the stranger now that he's slightly more focused and looking that way (and being a little obvious about it). What kind of get up is that...?]

Were you—in the middle of something?

[Doubt flickers across his face hearing Ferran's 'reassurance.' Uh-huh. Right. It's tempting to just bypass everything he just said and pick up the other anyway, but Scott refrains for now. Give him one last chance or whatever-- at least he is putting more weight against him, so that's something.]

If you slip again, I'm carrying you.

[Still, a warning!! Maybe it will help motivate the other to keep pushing himself. Which. Sounds a little messed up since he's clearly hurt and confused and probably a bunch of other things, but Scott really wants to hurry to the med center so that he can get properly looked at. It's pretty tempting to hasten his own pace, but he just reaffirms his grip on the other's shoulders while steadying himself.

So focused he almost missed his question--]

Huh? [The guy's looking right at him and oh.] No, not really, this is just what I normally wear if I'm scouting the area. It's my uniform. I'm a uh... superhero.

[Could he say that with more confidence????]

F-fine...?

[He'd prefer it to not come to that, and not just for his own sake. He'd have no problems being carried, honestly, but he doesn't want this guy to struggle with it. But maybe his concerns are irrelevant, because the answer he gets—]

Uh... huh. [Processing. Not doubtful, necessarily. More to himself than to Scott as they walk:] Superhero...

[He doesn't know how that fits in with all the mess he's gotten into, but... it's not like he believed in magic a year ago.]

So... does that mean you have powers?

[Oh good, he's not putting up much of a fuss at the thought. Scott likes it when that happens, makes his life easier. Or maybe he's just distracted by the whole idea that he just told him that he's a superhero. Which, fair. Honestly it feels kind of weird to describe himself in that way, after spending so long thinking that he was just a mutant that might be part of normal society for years.

And now he's Cyclops, future leader of the X-Men. Hopefully he's living up to that legacy somewhat right now. It's just more walking-- guiding Ferran closer and closer to the medcenter.]

Yeah, pretty much. Explains the costume at least. [He adds, almost wryly.] There's other people with powers in this world and they're not superheroes-- though they're still good. There's a lot of people you can trust here, okay? That's the most important thing to know.

[Even if their numbers have dwindled a lot lately, there's still friends here that he could trust with his life.]

[The reply brings a slight frown to his face, though it's more out of uncertainty than anything. The idea that he can trust people...

... he should have been considering that a long time ago. He'd thought it was too late on that, but—what has he gotten himself into now? It feels like an improvement, but is it really?]

R-right... [He remembers to keep his eyes on the path ahead, but his mind starts wandering again, especially when he realizes Scott just said this world—which...]

—I probably shouldn't try to think too hard about this, huh...

[And for all he knows, it could be some kind of messed up bizarre dream not even worth trying to puzzle out. But hey, the little building Aldrip calls a clinic is coming into view, even if Ferran can't recognize it as one himself.]

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