exsiliumlogs | white-haired ppl club no wigs allowed

Entry tags:

white-haired ppl club no wigs allowed

Date & Time: 1/23 close to evening
Location: up very high to start, and then...???
Characters: Jack Frost, ~~Soldier Blue~~ Blue-1
Summary: you know those things where Wile E. Coyote runs off a cliff and then stops running and stands there for like 3 seconds and then looks down and then looks at the camera and then plummets??
Warnings: ¯\(°_o)/¯

Soldier Blue veered past a taller building, then up to clear them all, seeking out the notions and reverb of familiar hearts. Within the same breath, Blue-1 had somehow flailed free of his restraints and launched himself away from the machine.

His tumble from the exam table to the floor had become quite far. Nothing but cold, empty air, no supports, no sounds but blasting wind tearing all bearing from the boy's mind. Had he not been suddenly falling from some unknown height, he might have been more amazed the pain – and the equipment that had been causing it – had vanished. The laboratory, too, but first things first.

He was falling very far and very fast, and even registering that seemed near impossible. He did what most people would do: He screamed in blind panic. Unlike the rest, though, his scream was not restricted to sound alone, but pierced through nearby (and growing nearer) minds open and unguarded to psychic noise. Glowing the color he was named for, he twisted and flailed, unable to think a thought sharp enough to make himself stop.

I'm going to die!

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The second time around bore a bit more fruit than the first, thankfully enough. Though shivering, still confused and frightened, the boy stared and listened more intently. Jack was the only thing offering a bit of explanation, after all; he needed to get his bearings quickly before chance came to catch him off-guard once more.

His brow furrowed. Different machine? There were, from his memory, flashes of sound, color...hollow, metal pounding. Which machine? There had been a number...

"Exsilium," he repeated, frowning deeper. What did that even mean? "Is it...somewhere else on Ganymede? I've never-r...heard of it." A chatter of teeth.

Jack nodded encouragingly when the boy repeated the name. This was good, it was certainly progress. Not that Jack could blame him for his reaction in the slightest because falling from that height was one hell of an entrance into a strange world for sure.

"No, it's not on— that. I know this is gonna sounds crazy, but you're in a different world." More importantly though ...

"We should really get you inside. It'll be warm and it'll be safe, okay?"

"But–" The boy rocked forward on his feet, then back to flat soles. "But what about the others? William, Ella...Zel..." The children who remembered their names. Were they there, too? Away from the lab? Safe?

"What if they find us? If you–" Wait. He squints at Jack. "Are you...one of us?"

His hair was as white as his own – were they the same? Did he remember?

So many questions.

So many questions that Jack didn't know how to answer while staying reassuring. He supposed honesty was the best policy here so that's what he went with though he wished he had the right answers that would be of some comfort, but alas.

"I don't know if your friends got pulled here too. Maybe, maybe not. Sometimes people find others they know here." Which somewhat sadly hadn't been the case for him. Yet, anyway.

"But they, uh whoever they are, won't find you here. You're safe." That was something Jack could be sure about at the very least. That last question though ... Jack tilted his head, squinting back at him.

"I'm afraid I don't know how to answer that because I don't know what you are."

The boy stared, wide-eyed and unblinking, searching. Somehow, he had the inkling to...to push that strange power of his to do what he wanted for a change. To weed out the answers he wanted. The wires weren't connected to anything painful anymore, and if this Jack was right...he was more disconnected from all of that than he could ever recall.

But...even without that power, he could somehow tell he was honest. It was as woven in his expression as it was in that...strange air about him, the way his mind and heart was on display for him. Despite the outlandish circumstances, the boy felt it very easy to trust him. And for all that was weighing on him, frightening him, it was easy to quickly shrug off a bit of that anxiety as far as Jack was concerned.

The oh he meant to say was just an exhale, another puff of breath in the air. Safe...

"Where are we going to go?" he asked, his voice starting to soften, grow smaller without the weight of fear.

That was a much better reaction, the boy seemed to be calming down and was now actually listening. Jack's shoulders sagged as he sighed in relief although his own breath wasn't visible in the air since it was just as cold. He untucked his staff and used it as an extension of his arm when he pointed to the largest building in the area.

"The apartments," he replied, shifting his staff to rest on his shoulder as he looked back at the boy with his most reassuring smile. "We can get you something warmer to wear there and something to eat and drink, if you want."

If this kid was someone who had randomly changed too, which strongly seemed to be the case here, then it was likely he had an apartment there, right? That should be easy enough to find out. They just needed to get off this roof first. He made the wind pull him up so he could accurately judge the distance they needed to go before he hovered in front of the boy, offering his hand. "Let's get you down, okay?"

The little gust took the boy by surprise, who startled back half a step. It mattered very little that the both of them had, to some degree, done away with physics moments ago: Jack was floating. It was as unnatural as...well, a lot of things about himself he'd been told were just that.

Still, it made him hesitate a moment, staring, trying to understand. Yet Jack was the only lead he had to...much of anything so far. He was in no position to refuse, especially stuck on a roof in the cold. The boy, licking his lips pensively, nodded, reaching out. Contact once again reinstated the flow of thought and feeling, and the boy himself came with doubt and heavy waves of guilt and echoes of a dozen nervous children like himself.

He can hear it? Just by thinking...

How?

Why is this happening? When can I go home?

I don't remember it. What do we do?

Jack waited patiently until the boy took his hand and then immediately had to resist the urge to pull his hand away when his mind was flooded with thoughts and feelings that weren't his own again. He wasn't able to stop himself from flinching, but he resolutely tightened his grip in a firm but gentle hold. With the help of the wind, he pulled the boy into the air so they were both floating and he kept his focus on the directing them both towards the building as best as he could, trying to ignore the thoughts and feelings.

He would like to ask what all the voices and such were about, but his own questions could be saved until they were inside. Well, all questions save for the one that he asked the moment they touched down in front of the apartment complex.

"What's your name?"

The flood of voices was stifled, overrun by the boy's alarm. Actually flying...It was terrifying! Even less a frightened mess than before still didn't quell instinctual fears of falling, plummeting, even in Jack's grip.

But Jack wasn't a liar, so far: He was safe. Safe, back on the ground. Standing before a foreign building. There was something comforting in its dinginess; it wasn't the flawless white if Altameira's lab. Maybe it was alright...

Huh?

He looked to Jack, having only barely heard the question aloud. It came through their fingers; realizing the buzz and murmur wasn't aloud, he drew his hand away, close to himself. It grew quieter in his head.

Name?

"I don't know," he said, flickering a glance up, then away, ashamed. "I don't remember, they...They were just calling me Blue." His brow furrowed. "Blue-1.

"That's not a real name."

Jack kept his attention on the boy and when he pulled his hand away, he felt secretly and rather guiltily a little relieved about it. Although he wasn't exactly pleasant to the touch either so it was probably better for the both of them.

He frowned in concern at the answer he got, but the shameful glance away prompted him to move with it and he stepped in front of Blue, gazing at him imploringly.

"Whoa, hey, that's okay. I didn't remember my real name either." ... Sort of anyway, and it was more his former name than 'real' name by now. But details, details. "Blue isn't a bad name, it's a great color! But if there's something you'd rather be called, just tell me."

The last bit was accompanied with an encouraging nod and smile before Jack turned to move inside the building, gesturing for Blue to follow.

He was slow to follow, having wound up staring hard at Jack. It was, of course, kind of him to say...he was a kind person, then. He had seen very little true kindness outside of his peers, and though this Jack was so very strange in more ways than one, he could sense some familiar vibration – that was probably it. Kindness.

But that wasn't what struck the loudest chord.

He doesn't remember, either.

Blue shifted in place before stepping inside, shuddering just out of surprise when hit with the warmth around him. It made him realize how little he could feel of his feet, his hands...

"They took your memory away, too?" he asked, drawing close, still staring. "Is it because you can fly? You almost look like me, too...None of the others look like me. But I've never flown before."

He was babbling, not realizing it. The questions seemed to flow out like a thaw, as if a little warmth was all it had taken. Kindness was warm, after all.

Jack glanced over at Blue again, unperturbed by the staring. Staring and the curious questioning was behavior one could expect to see from children and it was certainly an improvement over the panicked little boy he'd caught outside. The babbling to him was a good sign.

The question gave him pause though, because he didn't know how or why he'd lost his memories. He'd gotten them back, but that didn't explain why he'd lost them in the first place.

Is it because you can fly?

He hummed thoughtfully as he considered that. It seemed like it could be a possibility. Losing his memories because he'd died and had been reborn.

"My memories were ... put away," he answered, his smile sobering a little. "And maybe because of what I can do, yeah. In a way. What about you? Seems like you can do some extraordinary things."

Jack had to look away for a moment, trying to figure out where to go. He hadn't been in the apartment complex very often since he lived outside himself, but surely there'd be a list of the rooms and who stayed where somewhere.

It troubled him, the way Jack handled those questions. It seemed so...well, different. Yet Blue wanted very much to believe their circumstances were the same, be more certain in the safety that like company could provide, and have that safety outside of the lab.

Concerns about direction, rooms and the sort went to Jack while Blue stared, squinting at times, trying to keep things in a frame of mind he could understand and accept. Put away. Was that how he described what happened? It seemed much tamer in that sense. But...But that didn't matter, did it? What mattered is it was, somehow, the same. For the same reasons.

Right?

And him? Blue recoiled a little. Extraordinary made it sound almost like a good thing, which those things certainly weren't.

"I don't know how they work," he said, staring at some fixture in the lobby. "I didn't make it happen, it just happened. When they put me in the machine and made me forget everything, it just...broke. And I could hear everything."

He hesitated before looking back at Jack. He was ashamed, guilty. "I can't make it stop. I still hear the things people don't say out loud. I can hear you, too."

But Jack was the same, wasn't he?

Jack paused, his search momentarily halted like his steps as all his attention focused solely on Blue at those words. He was out of his depth here, he realized. He didn't really know what Blue was talking about, but it didn't sound good. People also didn't have powers where he'd come from and he doesn't know how to help someone who had clearly just acquired them somehow.

Granted he'd, seemingly randomly at the time, woken up to new found powers too, but even though Jack could do many things, hearing people's thoughts wasn't one of them. He had died too.

So it just wasn't the same in many ways.

However, what he does know is the desperation of wanting to have someone who knows exactly what it's like and he recognizes it in Blue. Unfortunately, Jack's not that person for him, but he knows for a fact Blue is not the only one with powers like that. More people had directly spoken to him in his head before and it's because of that he can turn to face Blue and speak with utter confidence.

"Blue, it's alright. It's not your fault and you're not the only one who can do those things here. You're not alone."

It only made him believe it more, though, hearing that assurance from Jack himself. Blue's grip on the bunched-up wires in his fist began to slack as he listened, as though releasing his disbelief of the situation, bit by bit. It wasn't the lab. It...probably wasn't Ganymede either, this Exsilium. Another world, Jack had said. One of the other colonies, then? So far away, so fast...that was scary.

But he wasn't alone, and no one was trying to hurt him, break him.

But...

"What do I have to do to bring the others here, too?" He couldn't leave them behind to die. He told them he'd try to find a way out, and if this was it? He didn't have a lot of time to waste.

Jack faltered again at that, smile diminishing. From what he could gather, Blue had come from a rather bad situation and if there were more kids like him in that very same situation ... Jack would want them out too. It wasn't something they or even the Initiative could do anything about though, and that wasn't the most fun news to break. He hesitated before pushing himself on to reply.

"There's nothing you can really do. The machine that takes us here picks people at random, they don't control it." Jack glanced away, his grip on his staff tightened as he shoved his other hand in his hoodie pocket to hide the fist he was clenching in silent frustration. If only they could control the machine, perhaps some things wouldn't be so unfair.

"I'm sorry."

Machines again. But a different one? Blue felt a chill – not from Frost, not from the air. One machine had started this descent into chaos, followed by a number of others made for hard light and pain. Other machines watched, unblinking, all hours of all days. Some distorted the voices of men walled off by layers of steel and concrete, making their requests more hostile and foreign. Some pricked, some stung, some caused a rattle in his brain like a jackhammer, like his head was going to come clean off in another second.

Now there was a machine that took him far away from those, sent him plummeting from the sky and into the arms of a stranger. A machine no one could control?

"Then..." Blue swallowed, his posture losing the rigid quality his sudden drive to advance. "Then this isn't as far away as I thought. These machines are really everywhere."

He grimaced before looking to Jack.

"Then what am I supposed to do here?"

Jack raised an eyebrow at the remark about machines being everywhere, but didn't question it. With the many worlds that were apparently out there, it was very much possible that Blue came from a world similar to this one. A future of sorts. The possibilities of worlds were endless and now wasn't the time to be asking about Blue's.

The boy seemed a lot more driven and certain now too which made Jack feel more comfortable about explaining the situation. He straightened, turning serious as he started speaking more straight-forward with a lot less hesitation.

"They're fighting a war here and they want our help, that's why they've brought us here."

He paused briefly to let that sink in before adding,

"But it's not just that, the enemy they're fighting is going after our worlds too."

As he stared, unblinking, Blue's expression began to mold, to change. It had been an uncertain curiosity, but soon washed to fear, quiet outrage. His mouth grew tense, his brow beginning to pinch between his eyebrows.

"They want me to fight?"

They?

His thoughts, muted for so long with their safe distance, began to pervade the air, sharp in an angry air.

"Are they going to make me?"

Change me? Make me feel more people die? His eyes flashed, breaking the subtle shift in his expression, breaking it quickly into plain-as-day anger. "Is that the only reason I'm here?" To die?

Jack flinched, his hand flying from his pocket to clutch his head at both the suddenness and the sharpness of the thoughts. It was disorientating, but he pushed past it so he could quickly shake his head and hurriedly explain.

"No, that's not it! They won't make you fight."

Although they did send them to places, which Jack strongly disapproved of especially because of their little trip to the desert could have potentially killed him, but at least they didn't make them fight. They still had free will.

"The way they fight it's— They're trying to change time, so they send us back in the past to change things, but we don't have to fight. We don't have to do anything we don't want to."

"That doesn't make any sense."

Blue felt a flash of heat, a twinge of panic. He had been so certain Jack was like him – one of them, the victims. All the talk of strange worlds, faraway places...fighting.

What was really going on? Was he actually being deceived? It wouldn't be the first attempt – just the most potent. The sensory overload in freefall might have distorted his senses...maybe he was only now snapping back to reality?

Maybe he was going to wake up under hot lights, wired up like–

His fist squeezed so hard, the clump of wires causing strain and hurt in his palm. He looked down, uncurling his fingers, watching them slowly shift out of the crunched-up state he'd impressed on them, his skin going from white to red with the return of blood.

He was overwhelmed, he realized. Blue's body seemed late to respond, tightening him up in his chest and throat, a heavy throb hitting him between the eyes.

No more, please. I hate this.

No. He sucked in a sharp, fast breath, stifling himself, shaking his head quickly. He looked up at Jack, his glare losing its potency almost right away.

"I don't know what that means," he uttered, his mouth twitching as he worked to steady his voice. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do, or where I'm supposed to go. I don't know what I want."

Whatever progress they'd made seemed lost now and the calm was shattered just like that. Desperate to get Blue to calm down again Jack reached out instinctively, but stopped himself at the last moment, his hands hovering awkwardly above Blue's shoulders.

The expression on his face had turned earnest, almost pleading.

"I know. I know it's all really confusing and it doesn't make sense. I don't really understand it myself," he admitted honestly. The things going on here he felt were beyond his comprehension and frankly, he felt lost most of the time.

But he was a Guardian and his duty was to protect the children, he would stick with that regardless of what the Initiative wanted him to do. The children would always be his first priority.

He quickly glanced around and after spotting some seats nearby, he motioned to them.

"Let's sit and calm down, okay? Please?"

Part of Blue wanted what Jack said to be lies, to be better justified in his mistrust, but he could not. However that power of his worked, it only seemed to make him more certain of truth and lies: He couldn't see or hear the lie he expected behind the words.

That was unsettling. For the most part, he expected it. Cruelty underneath. This won't hurt much (He better not kill us all). You'll be home soon (We should gather them all up and get rid of them). I'm just trying to help (What a little monster).

He listened and he waited, practically boring holes through Jack with his eyes, straining to find it. The actual intent. The bad one. Not things about caring for children or worrying himself on what to do.

But that's all he found, out there on the surface for him to find. Blue rocked back on his heel, but the dire need to run was fading fast, leaving him as lost as before, buckling under the request. He swallowed, his expression scrunched up with a mix of confusion and unhappiness.

He eyed the seats. Plain, small. No restraints? None that he could see.

He eyed Jack. Protect who? Everyone? He couldn't tell.

He hesitated a moment longer, then moved to sit, pulling wires from one hand into the other.

The way Blue had kept staring at him was rather unnerving, but Jack refused to look away and break eye contact because he was desperate for Blue to believe him and he felt that, if he looked away, he'd lose him.

When Blue looked from the seats back to him, he managed a smile and a reassuring nod and when Blue finally moved towards them, Jack was quite relieved to say the least. Once Blue was seated, Jack crouched on the floor in front of him so he could keep looking at Blue's face.

He was the very picture of sincerity, in both his demeanor and thoughts. Even his voice was clearly earnest when he spoke again.

"I'm so sorry about all this." He smiled wryly. Not that he was responsible in any way, but he felt someone should be apologizing for all the shock poor Blue was going through.

He tilted his head as he changed the topic.

"Do you want something to drink? Or eat?"

Blue's mouth pressed into a thin line, hesitant to say anything at all. Food? Water? He could barely think of those things in that moment, and in being pressed about it...well, maybe he was a little hungry, maybe his throat was a little raw, but...He couldn't think to waste time with it. Any of it.

Instead, his stare, which had grown sullen in sitting, grew sharper and more intent, once again scouring Jack for ill-intent, finding none. And that's what he wanted to know.

"Why are you helping me?" he asked. And, making his doubts a certainty: "You're not like me, are you?"

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