Appeasing the Voices [ota]

[mad_asahatter]

With the grief tampered to a bearable level, Ophelia had the need to go out and indulge. She needed to play, to get rid of some of the morose feelings. And so, she wound up in the garage, having stolen a good many of the cutlery from the mess hall

Comments

[forgebyfire]

Forge heard the melody of the song floating through the hallway as he walked toward the garage; he couldn't make out the words but the pitch of voice was sweet and there something vague in the tune that reminded him of childhood. He pushed open the door to the large area with a low hum at the back of his throat that he wasn't fully conscious of making. He'd commandeered a little space along the back wall within the last day or two where he could work, spread out a bit and not be in anyone's way or distracted--if the singing was coming from inside then it would mark only the second time he'd crossed a soul in here

[mad_asahatter]

Ophelia lay there, sprawled over the floor and staring above her. Things weren't right, everything was hectic inside her and nothing made sense. She couldn't find the right ones, the right places.

It hurt her head more than the fall had.

Her legs were sprawled awkwardly, but not broken. Her wrist was bent out of shape however, likely sprained. But Ophelia didn't have time to suffer the pain and put it down with the other feelings she was keeping for later.

Instead she tried to focus, looking for things to come back rightly. "Headstones in the courtyard, and statues in the park. Are not for the insane, just leave them rotting in the D A R K. Dark, dark, dark, dark, dark," she lay there, repeating the one word while staring at the ceiling above her.

[forgebyfire]

Forge's boots slid on the cement floor as he took the back corner of the van at a run but both metal and flesh limbs kept him upright and he dropped only when he reached the side of the slight, sprawled figure. Instinct raised a gloved hand, perhaps to assess for damage--and stopped. Mutants. The hand curled into a fist and Forge leaned in instead, looking her over for any major damage. "Are you all right?" His voice was steady, regardless at the pace he'd made to her side. "Hurt, anywhere?" The continued singing from her seemed a positive sign.

At least he hoped it was. Dark eyes glanced at the ground beneath her head for blood.

[mad_asahatter]

She stared at him, noting the newness of his face, she'd never seen him before. "Indeed she is, all right it seems. Nothing broken, only twinges from old dreams." She didn't move though, her limbs felt far too heavy, and the twinges were tight.

"Your face is new, fresh to see. How long she asks, how long to be?" She'd seen most of them, or she'd thought so. She liked to get a grasp on the new ones quickly, sensing them out and feeling her way through them. Seeing what would work for her and who to leave alone.

This one, was new.

[forgebyfire]

There was a moment of silence given to the young woman's rhyming. Forge's eyes moved to hers. One moment. All right, maybe two. And then he moved on and got back to business. He could... figure out verse.

There was, maybe, a small repressed sigh. It wasn't personal.

"I've been here for three days," Forge said, reaching for her nearest wrist; it looked like it was swelling. If a sprain or small fracture were the largest of her injuries, she'd have the Trickster's own luck. "As for how long I'll be here, I don't know. My name is Forge. Can you sit?" She could have a concussion, even if she wasn't bleeding. Not that he believed for a moment that it would have caused a person to burst into spontaneous rhyme.

[mad_asahatter]

She nodded slightly, pushing up with her uninjured hand to sit. She frowned slightly, the pain pushing through and she looked to see where she'd fallen from. "Hmm; heights are high, almost to the sky. Strange it is, she feels like this."

Her legs were stretched in front of her and she turned her attention back to Forge, questioning green eyes watching him carefully. "You move strange, but not strange at all. Ophelia must wonder why you came to her fall?"

[forgebyfire]

His hand hung behind her, not touching but ready, just in case she fell back. Forge shifted himself into a more comfortable crouch, acutely aware of the way his metal leg was compressing. "I was coming to the garage to build," he said, his hand lowering a little. She seemed lucid--in some sense of the word. "How is it that you feel?"

[mad_asahatter]

She watched him move, careful with everything, and always aware; he felt so aware. "Odd in a sense, but no less than usual. It's not the same, it's hardly special. Feels like a change, but not from herself. Almost like is from someone else. Not like that, that's all well and good. But this is strange, like stealing food."

She twisted as she faced him, a frown still on her features. "Is it you, she wonders lightly. Are you the one changing things so slightly?"

[forgebyfire]

"If I am," Forge said dryly, "I don't know it." With an exhale he shifted himself to sit completely down, cross legged. The cold floor seeping through pants to his skin was easily blocked from his thoughts but it was harder to ignore the way his right hip ached with the close chill. Settled, he held out his gloved hand toward her.

"Can I see your wrist?" Forge wasn't exactly sure what she'd meant by being strange like stealing food, but he got the impression that the strangeness she was commenting on at least wasn't coming from inside herself and that was what concerned him the most at this moment. The rest could be dealt with in time, whatever it was.

[mad_asahatter]

Staring a little more, Ophelia extended her hand, offering him her swollen and sore wrist. "It landed first, such a pleasant limb. Wanted to save her, but wishes it were numb."

She didn't mind hurting herself too much; things happened, and sometimes things hurt when they happened. This was just one of those times where she was having trouble figuring out why.

Not that it was a huge dilemma. "Are you trained, or know your stuff? Can you tell if it's broken, or up the duff?"

[forgebyfire]

Forge was holding her arm lightly, his fingers prying with the gentlest of pressures around the joint. When she asked her last it caught him so off-guard that even as his dark eyes jerked up to her face he was laughing, a low, warm bark of a sound. Immediately looking a little startled at his response, Forge cleared his throat and dropped his eyes back to the task, quiet again. "I have some training," he said after a moment. "And I don't think it's broken, though it might have been kinder to you if it was." Breaks could be easily immobilized; sprains lingered.

[mad_asahatter]

She smiled at his laugh, he was warming, less closed. She could feel the amusement and it lingered around them. "All is well, it didn't mean it. Better places she could find to sit. Not her fault, but nor is it to blame. Ophelia's mind went, such a shame."

The momentary snap of her own psyche had started her. That much she knew. What had caused the startling, she didn't know. "Dear Forge, do tell. What is it you're here to sell?"

[forgebyfire]

"What isn't to blame?" he asked, lowering her arm into her lap and letting her go. Forge settled his elbows on his knees in a loose posture (maybe a little looser than anything he'd assumed in the last three days) and regarded her--Ophelia, then.

"What is It? And I'm not sure why I'm here," Forge said without dropping his eyes. "If that's what you're asking. I don't know."

[mad_asahatter]

"Her wrist, you see, was trying to be helpful. An odd little way to warn her 'be careful'. Not one to listen, she didn't quite know. Seems soon, it'll really start to show."

Ophelia hadn't met anyone yet who truly knew how to decipher her meanings, or what she wanted to mean. If she ever did, it was possible she'd worry. At least a little.

"Not many know, it's a game to play. They toss and turn, but find they'll stay."

[forgebyfire]

Ah. Forge gave her a nod. "Your wrist will be fine. We'll find some ice for you and in about two weeks it will be as good as new." It startled him, suddenly, the realization that he'd somehow come almost full circle. This was certainly less like the military and more like being a shaman, the amount of care he'd been dispensing lately. For a moment Forge stared into a middle ground somewhere beside Ophelia's right ear--then he blinked, and focused his eyes. "I don't toss, or turn," he said evenly. "I have made my choice. Is it choice that has you here, Ophelia?"

[mad_asahatter]

Ophelia giggled lightly, the sound melodic like her singing. "Ice, oh ice, where shall we find? Hiding away, can't see any kind." She doubted the swelling would be a problem, keeping the appendage cool would likely be a no brainer.

"Choice it wasn't, not allowed to make. Insane, you see, it's for her own sake." Ophelia's placement was more of a trial in application of her abilities. She'd been told not to hurt her team-mates and follow orders. This was where they tracked her ability to follow logic and do as she was told.