[BPRD] Makes My Skin Crawl, pt 7a [P 3.7, B 3.7]

edited February 2013 in In-Game
Blake and Penny,

Iiya doesn't go after Penny. I assume you two end up somewhere outside. I mean, Blake can chase down four legged monsters, he can catch Penny. The question is, of course, whats he going to do when he catches her, right?

You two ended up outside underneath a streetlight across the road from the hotel, the desert night sprawling out around you. Folks have been moved around, the place is quiet except for the hum of the lamp above you that creates a single shaft of light against the blue-black darkness.

Comments

  • I stop and lean backwards against the streetlight, hands over my face. I know Blake followed me, and I'm trying to smooth my face out before I look at him. I'm terribly embarrassed that I lost control of Agent Snow and that now I'm just Penny, crying under a streetlight. This is not very professional.

    I've tried so hard to be nice to Dolly, but she's right. Lately I've been failing at everything. I've been useless here. Like a third sock. The only thing I'm good at is being the psychic, and I haven't even been able to do that right. Maybe I'm just a broken radio. Maybe it has nothing to do with frequencies. What would the BPRD do then? Send me back to St. Mary's so I can sit in that little white room and hear all about how crazy I am?

    Well, that's great, Penny. You can't even cheer yourself up. You just had to fail at that too.
  • I'm not very far behind. I stop running when I see that she's stopped and leaning against the streetlight.. and crying. A glimpse of her face as she tries to wipe at it just... gets to me. Somehow I had put it out of my mind that Penny is so alone in the world. I mean she has Doc, I guess. I don't have that many. A brother. My mom. My ex-wife. My little girl. Still I know there are people in the world who care about me.

    Maybe it's the day's stress. Maybe... I don't know, maybe being terrified that something had happened to my little girl reminded me of how little time we have... most of us anyway. Funny I can even forget it, considering how much death I've seen. But soldiers learn to insulate that stuff, section it off. Annie and I are over. Holding onto that is just wasting time. So many ways to waste time.

    I stop in the pool of light, maybe five feet from her, and look at her a moment. Maybe I'm not what she needs, but... well I shouldn't be making her decision for her. People have done that to her plenty.

    "Pen..."

    I swallow, then, before I can loose my nerve, I step into her space and draw her into my arms.
  • I'm a little startled, but then Blake is holding me and...and I've never been held while I cried before. None of my foster parents wanted to touch me. None of the nurses were allowed to touch me. The doctors sat impassively in their chairs and nodded towards boxes of tissue. Those boxes of tissue, they were my only source of comfort.

    Blake is much more handsome than a box of tissue.

    I kind of curl up against him, tucking in my awkward bony arms like a miserable, pathetic bird. I'm crying an ocean all over his nice shirt. Not that long ago Iiya was holding me sort of like this, except I was happier then, and he was kissing me, and it was wonderful, although I wondered what kissing Blake would be like...

    But Iiya is a skinwalker who might be full of lies (he could be full of anything! broken radios are so unhelpful!), and Blake's thoughts are always full of Annie.

    And I don't fit in anywhere.

    I hate this. I don't want to see myself. I don't want to think about myself.

    Maybe it's because of that or maybe it's because I don't have anybody I can talk to about this, but whatever the reason, I'm turning towards your mind, Blake, with more than a little desperation. I've been practicing with my powers and using magic to amplify them. I didn't know I could do this until recently, call forth a specific memory from someone and watch it. I discovered it by accident. And I haven't told anyone yet. But right now, right now I don't want to be in my own mind anymore. So let's take a stroll down Blake's Memory Lane, shall we? I want to see your first kiss, Blake.
  • Using Magic to Observe Another Place or Time (Blake's First Kiss)
    #DiceRoller( 2d6+3 )
    highlighted for 1xp
  • edited February 2013
    My first real kiss, right?

    I don't let people get through to me easily. Even as a kid, I was a bit of a loner. Until Kathy Ramos moved in next door to me. I was what, seven? Anyway we became friends. Like best friends. She was a tomboy. She had very tan skin and short black shiny hair. We were in the midwest, so her New York/Jersey accent sounded funny. I liked to listen to her say 'water' and anything that rhymed with it. When she first arrived I made fun of her and she kicked my ass. We were friends from that moment on. By the time a year passed we were inseparable.

    So it's eighth grade and Dad dies, shot down by a driver on a routine traffic stop. Kat holds my hand at the funeral and I'm supposed to be all sad. I am too, but I'm suddenly distracted by how soft her hand is. Like I woke up and realized she was a girl.

    We go into summer and I'm maddeningly aware of her. She hasn't changed. Jeans and T-shits, hair short as ever, and at this point she's like an inch taller than me. I'm gangly and thin. We're acting like the long time friends we are, walking in a dry creek bed, through the patch of woods near our neighborhood. Conversation had lulled, but I wasn't thinking that much about it. And... I'm not sure exactly what happened. She stopped. I stopped and turned to see what was up, and suddenly she's kissing me, all this warmth and softness on my mouth and my body has gone stiff (in both senses) and my mind has gone completely blank. Just when it starts to catch up she pushes her tongue into my mouth and I lose it again. It must've been like kissing a statue or something. I was frozen solid, just... not knowing what to do, how to act.

    She backs off, kinda smiles, then walks away towards her house. Me still standing like an idiot.

    After a while I recover enough wit to go home. I think about it all night, like suddenly realizing that she could maybe be my girlfriend... something. I can't wait to see her again, to figure out what this is. To do that again. So the next day I go over to her house and find her with Rob, who was a year older and better looking and taller. And they're holding hands.

    I was crushed. I turned and went home. I think she saw me.

    We saw each other less and less after that, just drifted apart, but I've never forgotten the kiss.
  • I can tell you haven't forgotten, Blake. This memory was like I was standing in that dry creek bed next to you. Sometimes memories are all fuzzy or faded, like an old photograph where people's faces are drifting right off the page. But you still remember this so clearly, even though it happened so long ago. Even though you drifted apart.

    I suppose that means I've doomed myself to carry Iiya around in my head for eternity.

    I come back to my own mind to realize that nothing has changed. I'm still an overflowing faucet of misery and you are apparently the unfortunate towel. I mean, I guess I know that I'm not a broken radio. Is that comforting? Yes, I suppose. In a terribly guilt-ridden sort of way.

    I keep my face pressed into your (very damp) shoulder and try to pretend that I'm not tempted to open up the next memory and the next and the next until I've seen them all.
  • edited February 2013
    So I'm holding her. She's small and warm, even if my shirt is wet, I don't really care. I've spent months in countries where it never stops raining.

    One hand is slowly stroking her hair, And I know that I like holding her. It feels right. I mean I wish she weren't hurting, but the holding itself, I like that. I'm full of doubt about how make anything work between us. I want it, but I've known that for a while, haven't I.That's getting ahead of myself anyway.

    "You want to tell me about it?" I ask her, softly.
  • "It's not a very nice story." I mumble miserably.

    But I'm slowly realizing what is happening here in the real world. The Outside-of-Penny's-Head World. Blake is holding me and very gently touching my hair. Blake is. And now I'm so tempted to look in his head to see what he's thinking, but at the same time I'm just a ol' big chicken. If I looked and he was thinking about Annie, I don't think I could bear it.

    So I don't look. But I don't move either. My sobs have quieted and now there's just a few rogue tears escaping now and then. I've got my eyes closed. Now that I'm focusing on Blake's arms around me and his hand in my hair and how warm and solid and comforting he is, it's easier to stop thinking about all the bad things.
  • Her hair is silky. And it smells good. She's stopped crying... good. I should let her go, but I don't really want to just yet.

    "Well...that's okay, it doesn't have to be. You might feel better if you talked about it. You know... you know you're not alone, right? It must feel like it sometimes, I know. But you're not."
  • "I am alone." I correct Blake hollowly. I open my eyes, but I stay pressed against him. "I don't belong anywhere. I don't fit in with anyone. There is no place for me. Not with regular people, not with monsters, not even with crazy people. The only other person who was like me was my mother, and she's not only dead, but I can't even remember her. Somebody erased her out of my head. It's like she never existed at all. Maybe she never did. Maybe she's just a made up story to make me feel better."
  • I'm quiet for a moment, absorbing that.

    "You're not alone. You're unique, Penny, special... so am I. It means we have to make our own place in the world instead of fitting in with anyone. It's not easy. But nobody promised us easy, did they? You're still a person... a beauti... a good person."

    I loosen my grip, putting a little space between us and cup her chin, gently, getting her to look at me, looking steadily into those big eyes of hers. I kind of have that feeling like when you jump out of a plane for the first time. At night. With a chute you packed yourself. That is, terrified.

    "I understand. Not everything, sure, but even if I can't do the things you can do, I understand feelings, I understand fear... I understand isolation... and I... care about you, Pen... a lot. So... even if it feels like it sometimes, you aren't alone."
  • I blink four times because my eyes are getting full again. I am so thankful I met Blake. I liked him from the very beginning, even when all I knew about him was that he kept knives up his sleeves and was very proficient in murdering security cameras. Then we were made partners, me and Dangerous Blake, and I realized I liked him an awful lot more than I should. And now he's saying some of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me. To me. Penelope Snow.

    "Blake..." My voice wobbles away from me. My huge eyes are shining up at him. "I care about you an awful lot." I finally whisper, and then I smile a little shyly. "Do you really think I'm beautiful?"
  • Just checking in to say I'm loving this scene!
  • Jesus, she's so sweet. And I'm working without a net.

    "Yes."

    I swallow, but manage a small smile, and keep holding her eyes. It feels like i might be sucked in. The thing is, i might want to go.

    "Yes, I really do. And.... you can call me John. I mean...I'd like it if you would.
  • He thinks I'm beautiful.

    "John." I try it out softly. His first name feels both strange and precious on my lips. I know it means a lot that he gave it to me. I didn't even have to ask. And he said he'd like it. I feel so warm inside. Like I swallowed a campfire. But in a good way.

    So I say it again, still smiling shyly. "I care about you an awful lot, John."
  • I smile back. Am I leaning? I'm not quite sure. I mean, I'm moving, but I'm not aware of making myself move. I'm pretty sure it's me. Maybe it's her. Should I do this? Will it... Will it mess her up? Mess me up? I don't think I care. Or I'd rather take the chance. No time.

    "Good." I whisper when we're about two inches apart.

    And I kiss her, softly.
  • SQUEEEE!!!!
  • This might not be my First Kiss, but I know immediately that it's my Favorite Kiss. Because Bl...John is kissing me. John Blake is kissing me, and it's even better than I'd ever imagined.

    I'm on my tip toes, and my arms slide up around his neck like they know exactly where to go. And inside my head there's fireworks and music and dancing, but outside there's just John's arms around me and his lips softly on mine. And I kiss him softly back like I know what I'm doing, and then I realize that somehow I do know what I'm doing. Because kissing John is perfect and just right somehow. I don't want this moment to ever end.
  • There's a line somewhere in Shakespeare (Yeah, I read Shakespeare.) about a woman who has "witchcraft in her lips." I understand it now on a whole different level. Penny starts kissing me back and I just lose any sense of anything else. It is amazing. Right. And this girl just kissed for the first time recently.

    Oooh, Angry...don't think about that. Keep the kiss soft, sweet.

    Finally, I make myself break off. Its really difficult. I mean, I break, then just mean to give her a softer, brief sort of ending kiss... and then it doesn't end. I don't know how many of those we go through, it never gets old, but finally I do it. If I didn't... Well, best to stop before I can't, because parts of me are interested in going a lot further. And I need to calm down a little... not that I don't want to, but perhaps not on the first... uh... date? I hope she's not reading me... awkward...

    So I'm looking at her again. She seems even more beautiful. I'm definitely buzzed and breathing unsteadily. Wow. It's been a long time since I've been with a woman. Even longer since I've been with one I really cared for. I don't think I realized how much I cared for her until I let it in.

    I smile at her... it feels a little goofy.

    "You okay?"
  • "Okay?" I repeat incredulously. I'm looking at that smile, that adorable, slightly goofy smile on his face, and I can't even believe it's there. I blink three times fast just to be sure. It's still there! That smile! That smile makes me want to cry and kiss him again and maybe sit down because my legs feel like noodles and I can't quite remember how to breathe normally. It's a good thing my hands are still on his shoulders. He's a steady rock to hold on to.

    I will treasure that smile for my entire life. I will never forget it. It's the best smile anyone has ever given me.

    For a second I think I might cry, but then I'm beaming up at him. "John, this is the happiest moment of my entire life. So yes. I am okay."
  • Penny,

    You hear a crack, somewhere far off. It echoes across the desert, bouncing between mesas. It sounds like a single firecracker, like the kind you saw once on a Fourth of July fireworks display form the window of the asylum.

    Joe,

    You hear a single gunshot, maybe a click away. Sounds like a ,38 revolver, which you know Joe carries. It was muffled slightly, but not like a suppressor. It echoes across the desert, bouncing between mesas.

    What do you do?
  • Fireworks! How could I forget? I need to add that to the list of Things I Want To Do Now That I'm Asylum Free.

    I look out into the darkness, away from John (who just kissed me and told me I was beautiful!). "Was that a firecracker?"
  • That draws me back to reality some. I follow her gaze into the desert.

    "No... that was a gunshot. a .38. It might have been Joe."

    Of course that brings up who he's shooting. I hold out a hand.

    "C'mon Pen, I think we need to see what's up."

    I think I would head back to the Hotel, and if there are no answers from that area (or Joe's phone) immediately, I would probably put together Astah's location and go that way.
  • You head to the hotel and enter Penny's room. Go here.
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