[i]It hurts. A searing pain on his shoulder. The burning in his nostrils, in his lungs. There’s so much weight on his chest, it makes it hard to breathe. A grotesquely sweet aroma pierces into his senses from every which way. It makes him want to gag. Why can’t he move? Why is it so dark? [b]So quiet?[/b] He’s scared. He can’t help it. He’s only a kid. So he does what any kid would do- “Dad!” And begins to scream. … ...Nothing. [b]“Dad!”[/b] Louder this time. More nothing. He struggles, shifting and churning with all the might his tiny frame can muster, but to no avail. Whatever great weight is above him, it appears to have it’s [b]arms wrapped around him as well. Hugging and pinning him to the ground.[/b] This revelation only makes him struggle harder, fueled by some primeval terror he desperately resists against his bonds, growling and snarling in both anger and fear as he thrashes like a caged animal until finally… something moves. Like a dead weight, [b]something[/b] hits the ground where he now registers as [b]outside.[/b] Light pours in, blinding the boy who already thought himself as such as something cold and wet and horrible slides down onto his cheek. He eyes burn even more now, but he doesn’t care. He’s too busy sucking in all this new oxygen he can like it’s the last he’d ever have. When his eyes begin to come back to their senses the first thing they see is… cloth. Olive drab. A nametag. ‘Talhaiarn’. On queue, the panicked haze that hung over his mind begins to retreat. Something wet is still pressed into his cheek. He finally recognizes the smell of burning meat. A new terror wells inside of him, more visceral and destructive than the last as tiny whimper, a pathetic impersonation of a proper sound escapes his now trembling frame. “D… Dad?” He hears [b]nothing.[/b] So he does what any kid would do- [b]And begins to scream.[/b][/i] [hr] [indent][b][u]Backroom, Argos Gymnasium February 10th, 2:45 P.M.[/u][/b][/indent] Very suddenly, Mal was up. Well, not really; more crooked or sideways than anything, if you were to stop and think about the dynamics of falling asleep at your goddamned desk. [color=orangered]”Whuddafuggin… wha?”[/color] Came his… [i]very sophisticated[/i] response to the world that came crashing back into existence around him in that moment- punting aside… [i]that[/i] and replacing it with what he’d been [i]told[/i] was a dark room in the back of Persephone’s gym, but still looked like the same hodge-podge of fiery translucent shapes he saw everything else as. [color=orangered]”What in the goddamn…?”[/color] His eyes blearily trailed over his desk until they fell upon his clock, an old thing with a display made of nixie tubes he’d made in the Grotto a few years back, when such a thing was much easier on his eyes than a digital display would be. In that he didn’t have to squint nearly as much just to see the numbers. What he saw didn’t exactly fill the lad with cheer. And only had a little to do with him being unsure as to whether waking up at such a time meant he’d slept in or stayed up late. [color=orangered]”Aw, fer fucks’ sake…”[/color] The scarred boy grumbled and groaned as he got to his feet, an action met by just a [i]little[/i] more pops and cracks in his joints than usual due to the awkward sleeping arrangement. [color=orangered]”...That’s pleasant.”[/color] He’d guess he had it coming, though; sleeping hadn’t exactly been on his mind since the raid; after he’d moved out of the dorm and started shacking up here, he’d been hunched over his desk, disassembling and examining all that peculiar weaponry he’d pulled off some of the suspects at Aquarius Apartments. And had being on and off the comm. Throughout the day comparing notes on that pill Karen had analyzed with one of his old contacts in Atlantean Intelligence, ‘Moray’. Not that Persephone hadn’t left him a bed mind you. An extremely [i]plush and comfy bed with blankets [b]her mother knitted just for him.[/b][/i] He just… kept forgetting to [i]use[/i] the damned thing. A small snort escaped him at that. He was Zoey’s boy, after all. Groaning to himself, the still sleepy sometimes-dog-sometimes-shark-themed vigilante half-walked, half-staggered over to the mini-fridge past his twin duffel bags to find something cold to guzzle down his Sahara-dry throat. [color=orangered]”Welp… at least it’s quiet in here…”[/color] [hr] [b]Argos Gymnasium February 10th, 2:49 P.M.[/b] Karen would be lying if she claimed to be in top form right now. Her wrist was in a brace after being struck by that thug during the raid, her back hurt arguably worse than the night it had been injured (she hadn’t bothered to go see a doctor yet), and on occasion she would still get dizzy spells. All in all, she felt like shit. Nevertheless, the thing she was worried about the most was Mal. She hadn’t seen him since that night—that very, [i]very[/i] worrisome night. It hadn’t taken her long to figure out where he likely was, since that seemed to be his fortress of solitude in Atlantis, but she had decided to give him a couple of days to himself before she went after him. After all, everybody needed to be alone with their thoughts at times. She had caught Ophelia up to speed on everything that had transpired that night, while making sure to omit everyone’s true identities. She had never expected Orin or Virgil to show up there that night, and unless it was merely a hallucination brought on by her head trauma, she thought she had even seen [i]Bjorn[/i] of all people. The fact that Virgil had apparently been a [i]metahuman[/i] wasn’t such a big deal, given the number of them attending Uni with her. What was more surprising was the fact that he had botched their raid. She could tell her little brother was [i]livid[/i]; she knew his anger well. Still, she knew leaving him alone for [i]too[/i] long wouldn’t be good, either, and so she had decided to check up on him. For better or worse. [color=orchid]”MAL!”[/color] she called out, leaning slightly against the boxing ring in the center of the gym. [color=orchid]”I know you’re here somewhere, so come out.”[/color] [hr] [color=orangered]”Oh, fer fuck’s sake…”[/color] Mal knew that voice. It was [i]literally[/i] impossible for him to forget it thanks to that [i]infuriatingly powerful[/i] brain of his, but some part of him hoped in that moment that that he was wrong. That this was some kinda ploy by someone trying to kill him. A quick glance over his shoulder from his position in front of the mini-fridge confirmed that that was, sadly, not the case. He’d been dreading this encounter- [i]and he knew it was coming-[/i] for a few days now. It was part of the reason he’d been such a hermit as of late. But he knew for a fact there’d be no escaping now. There weren’t exactly any windows in this room after all. Arm still reaching into the fridge, his hand subconsciously and [i]oh-so-briefly[/i] hovered over a bottle of Poseidonian Brandy Persephone had gotten him for his birthday. But after a moment’s pause, drifted over and grabbed a can of cold coffee instead, quickly pulling it out and then grabbing a second after just a moment’s hesitation before shutting the door. Standing upright again and turning towards the door with a grimace. Well at least it was a local holiday, so the gym was empty. Small blessings and all that. With uncharacteristic dread, he let out a little sigh and then opened it, stepping through with a purposefully neutral expression and clearing his throat. [color=orangered]”Karen.”[/color] [color=orchid]”Mal!”[/color] Karen smiled, immediately jogging over to her little brother and pulling him into an embrace. She had been worried about him. Worried that he might have been dealing with his stress by fighting criminals again. He really was similar to Zoey like that. [color=orchid]”Are you doing okay? You really stink, haven’t you been bathing?”[/color] [color=orangered]”Yeah… yeah, I’m fine.”[/color] The boy in question stated, hesitating for a few seconds before returning the hug, half because he had been so sure she had come here to aggressively [i]mine his brain[/i] about what had happened in the Penthouse that night, and half because Karen’s [i]particular anatomy[/i] these days literally prevented his ribs from expanding when she was hugging him like this and made it almost [i]impossible to breathe.[/i] Before gently pushing her back and gesturing towards a nearby bench as he handed her one of his cans of coffee. ...Seriously, how the hell did she [i]function[/i] with those things attached to her chest? [color=orangered]”And sorry about the smell- I’ve been pulling a ‘My Mom’ and burning the midnight oil the past few days- Going over the evidence, doing research... all that fun stuff.”[/color] The younger teen continued, popping open his own can and taking a seat. [color=orangered]”...How’s the noggin?”[/color] A stupid question, perhaps, seeing as both of them knew he could [i]see for himself,[/i] but it made for half-decent shop talk all the same. [color=orchid]”Been better,”[/color] Karen admitted, reaching up to feel the still-sore place where she had been struck. It, too, had hurt worse the next day. It was a persistent theme with all of her injuries. Rolling her shoulders a few times as if to illustrate her condition, she smiled when they crackled and popped with the motion. [color=orchid]”I’ll manage, though. How’s [i]your[/i] noggin been?”[/color] She tried to not sound accusatory this time, wanting to keep the mood fairly light. Even so, she wasn’t going to pretend that night hadn’t happened. She had learned that running away from and ignoring your problems probably wasn’t the best solution—particularly now that she was starting to realize just how mean she had been to people during that period. [color=orangered]”Throbbing. Maybe a little groggy.”[/color] Mal answered, tacitly evading the obvious question just as casually as the Kare-bear had put it forward. [color=orangered]”Though that’s probably just the famous Kasimir insomnia… or napping with my head on a steel desk. One or the other.”[/color] With a dash of self-deprecation thrown in just for good measure, it seemed. He took a sip of his drink, trying to wake himself up. Maybe it was that the boy hadn’t [i]quite[/i] forgiven Karen for her conduct as of late. Maybe it was from some measure of shame that someone like him, whose entire life damn near [i]revolved[/i] around harsh discipline and self control, had absolutely [i]lost it[/i] when he had had a job to do, or some measure of guilt that he hadn’t been there fast enough to keep the blonde out of harm’s way. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he had never exactly enjoyed these ad-hoc therapy talks when he was a kid and didn’t imagine he was about to start now. One thing was made abundantly clear, though- Mal had [i]no intention[/i] of making this easy for the young Wizard. Karen had expected as much—Mal always had a tendency to be evasive when something was bothering him. If there was one thing about her little brother that frustrated her more than anything, it was his tendency to retreat into his shell when things got rough. But hey, who was she to talk about that right now? [color=orchid]”And here we thought going to college would be a chance to relax,”[/color] said Karen, grinning. [color=orchid]”But it seems that, for the moment at least, Lady Arcana is out of my life, whether I want her to be or not.”[/color] Despite her many, many attempts to do so in various locations, Karen had been utterly incapable of transforming back into her Wizard form. It was a distressing development, after having spent so much time in that state. Worse, it wasn’t like before, when she was “severed” from the Rock. She could still feel her connection, her powers were all technically still with her. She was just unable to speak the word to summon them. It was like constantly having an idea on the tip of your tongue, but never being able to spit it out. At that, Mal cast a sidelong glance at the girl and raised that Kasimir brow of his over his can of caffeinated dairy he probably didn’t want to know the manufacturing process of. [color=orangered]”That’s probably the first time I’ve ever heard someone actually say they went to University specifically to [i]relax.”[/i][/color] The boy remarked with a little shrug and snort [color=orangered]”Buuuut, I can sorta see your point; It didn’t take long for all of that to go to shit right quick, didn’t it?”[/color] Thinking on her second point, however, his glowing eyes locked in on her neck and jaw. Pupils dilating and shifting in size back and forth as his vision began filtering away the haze of all the background noise to solely focus in on the nerves, musculature and connective tissue therein. [color=orangered]”But yeah, about that; that night you were saying… you ‘Couldn’t say The Word’...?”[/color] Mal inquired after a few seconds of silent examination [color=orangered]”What exactly did’ja [i]mean[/i] by that? Like, are you under one of those silencing hexes you’ve told me about, or do the words just not come out right?”[/color] Karen frowned and shook her head. [color=orchid]”Whatever this is, it’s not a silencing hex. Those have a very specific ‘feel’ to them. They can either steal your entire voice, or just target a specific word or series of words. Should you try to speak them, you’ll feel as if you have a hand on your throat, preventing you from doing it.”[/color] But that wasn’t at all what [i]this[/i] felt like. She had felt silencing hexes many times before, and this was more like…. [color=orchid]”It’s like [i]I[/i] won’t let myself say it, if that makes sense. Like, sometimes my lungs refuse to pump the air I need to say the word. Other times my vocal chords shift too high or low, or I’ll sneeze. It’s literally like my body is fighting against me whenever I try.”[/color] And that was what made it so truly frightening for her. It felt like she didn’t have full control over her actions anymore. LIke there was a puppet master pulling her figurative strings from the inside. [color=orchid]”I’ve honestly never heard of a spell like this.”[/color] At this Mal just pursed his lip, idly rotating the can in his hand in thought as he scratched his chin (which it took him until now to realize had started to grow a bit of stubble). [color=orangered]”So would I be right in assuming this means you have no access to the rock right now?”[/color] Karen nodded. [color=orchid]”Pretty much, yeah. If I could make it to the Rock, I might be able to try something, but...”[/color] [color=orangered]”-It’s a magic rock floating [i]somewhere in space[/i] very, [i]very[/i] far away.”[/color] Malcolm finished for her with his usual flat snark. [color=orangered]”Yeah, that kinda figures…”[/color] Leaning back and shifting his neck from side to side to work some of the usual kinks out of it, the boy paused for a moment, racking his brain for an answer he knew he didn’t have. Ad-hoc Doc he was when the situation called for it, [i]Wizard Apothecary[/i] he was decidedly [i]not.[/i] [color=orangered]”Welp… if there were any [i]good[/i] places to come down with [i]Wizard Problems[/i], Poseidonis is probably it.”[/color] Mal started finally, enunciating with his hands [color=orangered]”I mean, we are sitting in the capital of the oldest civilization on the face of the planet; Shot in the dark- maybe there’s a book about what you’re going through somewhere in the Royal Archives.”[/color] Taking a final swig of his drink, and deftly tossing the empty can in the garbage can across the room behind them, he continued. [color=orangered]”In the meantime, we’re probably actually going to have to start taking your PT [i]seriously.[/i]”[/color] Karen cupped her chin at his suggestion. It wasn’t a bad thought—checking the libraries around the city for any information. It couldn’t hurt, at least. She was unlikely to come up with any answers on her own. PT, on the other hand, was another matter entirely. [color=orchid]”Will that really be beneficial to me?”[/color] she asked him. [color=orchid]”I don’t think my body is built for combat, and it can’t gain muscle or really change in any significant way.”[/color] [color=orangered]”PT includes [i]sparring,[/i] Karen. You don’t need to be the damned [i]Wizard[/i] to avoid getting knocked on yer ass in a fight.”[/color] Mal replied abruptly and with a little snort. [color=orangered]”I mean, shit, I managed well enough when I was eleven years old, ninety pounds soaking wet and powered by food out of a [i]dumpster.[/i] I’m sure between the two of us, we can figure something out.”[/color] Karen paused for a long moment, but ultimately smiled. She [i]still[/i] wasn’t certain it would make much of a difference for her in this state, but...at the very least she would enjoy spending time with Mal again. [color=orchid]”Alright, alright,”[/color] said Karen. [color=orchid]”I’ll do my best to learn how to better defend myself without superspeed.”[/color] She then shot him a pointed look. [color=orchid]”And don’t think you’ve avoided talking about the other night! I just decided to give you a little more time, since things have clearly been rough on you.”[/color] At that, whatever smile had been on Mal’s face abruptly wilted slightly. He’d honestly forgotten about that the second he started talking shop again, ever his mother’s boy. He wasn’t entirely sure whether he should impressed or annoyed at the constant one-track state of his brain. [color=orangered][i]’Welp, nothing for it…’[/i][/color] Shifting slightly and calmly pulling his feet up to sit cross-legged on the bench, facing the woman now, the younger of the pseudo-siblings calmly rested his cheek on his fist and fixed the blonde with that same practiced neutral expression as before. [color=orangered]”You’re right. I haven’t… not that I was [i]trying,[/i] mind you.”[/color] He said finally, after a moment’s staring down. His tone losing that semi-jovial edge it had before with each passing word. [color=orangered]”And I imagine me explaining my own deep-seated [i]awareness[/i] at my own failings isn’t going to do anything to dissuade you from giving me the lecturing we both know is coming, so we might as well get this over with [i]now[/i] rather than later when we’ll probably actually have [i]shit to do.”[/i][/color] And again, his brain somehow managed to find some way to tie this to work. It was almost [i]frightening[/i] how much Zoey there was in the lad. Karen shook her head slowly at his words, releasing a heavy sigh. [color=orchid]”I’m not going to lecture you, Mal. I was just hoping you could explain what went down that night—why it happened, and how we can maybe prevent it from happening again. We’re not little kids anymore...so instead of shaming you or making you apologize, I just want to find a way to [i]help[/i] you.”[/color] [color=orchid]”Just like you want to help me with my own problems.”[/color] That’s what family was for, after all, right? That was the sort of family she had always wanted: one that looked out for one another. Mal slowly felt his face slide into his palm at Karen’s words; it would’ve actually been easier if she [i]had[/i] been about to lecture him. Then he could just be angry. Instead of… whatever the hell he was feeling right now. [color=orangered]”[i]’Prevention’...?[/i] You mean keeping my head in check, right?”[/color] He finally said, resting his chin on his fist once more, eyes looking everywhere but at Karen in, funnily enough, almost [i]exactly[/i] the same way they always had whenever the two of them ever had these talks when they children. [color=orangered]”Truth be told, until that night, I’d honestly thought I’d had that pretty well locked down -For me, it’s kind of a necessity- but, well... [i]I was clearly mistaken.”[/i][/color] His mouth opened and closed a few times, clearly waiting for that powerful brain of his to catch up, whenever it got around to [i]finding[/i] the correct words. Wetting his suddenly very dry lips and finding another object either in the room or beyond to focus in on, he continued. [color=orangered]”My… gift... or whatever ya wanna call it… is basically a non-stop barrage of information. It runs day and night, whether I’m sleeping or not; Soundwaves. Electromagnetic currents. Ultraviolet and Infrared band radiation. Constantly replaying memories of every little thing I’ve ever seen or heard in the past six years and a whole bunch of other shit I’m not even sure about… so pretty well every second of every day, I’m basically multi-tasking between trying to make sense of it all and actually [i]functioning[/i] like a human being.”[/color] The boy explained in a rare moment of openness. [color=orangered]”Hell- even just to talk to you [i]right now,[/i] I not only have to think of, rehearse and repeat every single word in my head over and over again just so I can be absolutely sure my mind doesn’t outrun my mouth, but also clamp down on my own eidetic memory so I can actually see and hear you [i]now[/i] over the memories of everything I’ve ever seen, heard or even remotely [i]associated[/i] with you in the entire time I’ve known you. You just can’t really tell because my brain processes it all that quickly.”[/color] A profoundly uncomfortable exhale followed this, but he continued all the same. [color=orangered]”But then there are… moments of [i]clarity.[/i] Where that fucking mass of neurons and weird in my skull starts working together in a way that actually [i]makes sense.[/i] And all that messy shit just suddenly snaps together in a perfect picture.”[/color] The boy said, releasing his hand from his chin, whereupon it found itself something to do by rapping it’s knuckles on the side of the bench. [color=orangered]”The sensation is… well… kinda like suddenly waking up after a long sleep. Like dunking my head in a bucket of icy water. All that haze and background noise just… [i]gone.[/i]”[/color] The boy’s glowing eyes finally made their way towards his elder sister, as if trying to measure her reaction to what he’d say next. Talking honestly about [i]himself[/i] never really came easy to the lad. [color=orangered]”Seeing you laying on the ground like that, hurt and bleeding and under someone trying to kill you was one of those moments and, well... like I said; I remember [i]everything.[/i] Reliving it over and over like it’s still happening... I mean...”[/color] Yet another nervous exhale as he felt his hands fold neatly into his lap. Fidgeting slightly. [color=orangered]”I already have [i]enough[/i] dead family living inside my head, I didn’t want to have any more.”[/color] Now that she thought about it, Mal had never really talked about himself much in the nearly six years they had known one another. Oh, he had talked about plenty of [i]other[/i] things with her, but the subject of his powers and what it was like to be him had never really come up before. Granted, she hadn’t exactly been forthright with her own negative experiences; everyone had enough shit to deal with without her adding onto it. Still, perhaps she [i]should[/i] have opened up to him more, like she had with Zoey. Told him about her own experiences as Lady Arcana, and how it had changed her life forever. After all, for two people who had spent so much time together, they didn’t really know all that much about one another’s pasts. [color=orchid]”That sounds...overwhelming, Mal,”[/color] said Karen, taking a seat beside him on the bench. Reaching behind him to pull her little brother into a half-hug, she frowned. [color=orchid]”I’m sorry you have to deal with something so awful; I can’t even imagine what it must be like.”[/color] She really couldn’t—while Mnemosyne granted Lady Arcana an eidetic memory as well, her godly mind allowed her to utilize it without any of the detrimental effects that Mal had mentioned. It felt almost like his powers were a double-edged sword in comparison. [color=orchid]”How long have you had those abilities? I’m guessing six years or so, yeah?”[/color] [color=orangered]”Exactly six years, nine days, eight hours and about fifteen minutes or so.”[/color] The boy in question responded with his usual dry demeanour, gently bracing his hand onto Karen’s shoulder to half-escape from her half-embrace, letting out a sort of morbid chuckle as he did so. [color=orangered]”And I wouldn’t go so far as to call it ‘Awful’, so much as it’s just a constant pain in my ass.”[/color] Well, that’s what [i]he’d[/i] refer to it anyhow. Karen had enough shit on her plate to deal with without worrying about [i]his[/i] baggage, too. Hell, everyone did. So that opinion on his own state would be sufficient enough. Something he just said had just given Karen the distinct feeling like she was forgetting or overlooking something. What was it? Was there something significant that happened a little over a week ago, besides all of them arriving on campus—oh shit! [color=orchid]”Your birthday!”[/color] Karen gasped, smacking herself in the head—an action she quickly regretted. Her ears rang slightly and she felt that wave of dizziness briefly wash over her, as it had more than once over the past couple of days. [color=orchid]”Ugh...stupid head.”[/color] But that didn’t matter right now. She’d just remembered something important. [color=orchid]”Damn it, because I was still shaking off my isolation, I forgot to get you a proper birthday present!”[/color] [color=orangered]”Stop hitting your head while you have a concussion and we’ll call it even.”[/color] Mal couldn’t help but quip at that, a little smirk working it’s way across his face at the (much welcomed) little respite from the topic at hand. [color=orangered]”...Of course your doctor already told you about that, right?”[/color] Karen winced at the mention of her doctor. [color=orchid]”Y-yeah...I’ll be fine though, don’t worry.”[/color] She really wasn’t too concerned about it, in truth. It was only a minor concussion; it should heal up in a week or two, surely. No, a realization had now bored its way into her brain, and she wasn’t about to let it escape her. [color=orchid]”Anyway, you were [i]really[/i] upset on your birthday, you know, and now that I think about it, you [i]always[/i] have been. Why is that?”[/color] Mal remained silent for a moment, eyes slowly raising to meet his sister’s as an unreadable expression made itself known on his face. But after a solid half-minute or two, he answered. [color=orangered]”My brain also functions as a sort of internal clock. I’m not entirely sure how [i]that[/i] works, but on certain times of the year, some memories are louder than others. [i]Harder to ignore.”[/i][/color] He stated plainly, now shifting back and [i]fully[/i] escaping the sort of half-hug Karen had wrapped him in earlier. [color=orangered]”So I have good days, and I have bad days. Some moreso than others.”[/color] But pointedly failed to elaborate. [color=orchid]”...But why would your birthday of all days be one of those ‘bad days’?”[/color] asked Karen, raising her brow. A small exhale escaped the boy at that- through his nose, as his lips were thoroughly pursed in an expression of hesitance- as his fingers found themselves wrapping on the bench again. It also occurred to him that he’d probably also remember all of the stupid faces he’d made in the past fifteen or so minutes of this conversation, but he put that thought on the backburner in favour of the dilemma he now faced. This was some deeply personal shit the blonde was asking about. The kind he’d never even told Zoey about. And he had more than a few reasons for doing so. Still, it didn’t feel quite right to just brush his sister off like his subconscious was screaming at him to, especially not in the state she was in. His glowing eyes lingered on her for a moment at that last thought. … [color=orangered][i]’...Fuckdammit.’[/i][/color] [color=orangered]”If I tell you, you sit down, shaddup and let me work on that compressed spine of yours before you’re both concussed [i]and[/i] crippled.”[/color] He finally growled more than said or offered, still clearly uncomfortable with the topic at hand. [color=orangered]”Deal?”[/color] A grin slowly worked its way onto Karen’s face at this. [color=orchid]”Deal!”[/color]