12052/Clearing Out The Cobwebs

Clearing Out The Cobwebs
Date of Scene:	16 July 2022
Location:	Bournemouth, England
Synopsis:	In the aftermath of the events at the abandoned chip shop in Bournemouth, Jon and Chas and Cael talk. Jon explains his reasons for accepting the Watcher, and who Annabelle Cane is. And Cael's not crazy, but surely Rien hasn't changed... right?
Cast of Characters:	Jonathan Sims, Cael Becker, Chas Chandler

---

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Rien takes the others away by portal, and Cael whispers in Jon's ear that it's wrong. That Rien is wrong. There's a swooping feeling in Jon's gut, a sensation like grit in his eye. Something is wrong, yes. Something is... off. But Rien's the way she's always been. Rien is his /friend/. He sacrificed himself for her, and others--but Rien and Lydia are the only ones who haven't left. Rien's magic has always looked like that--they've joked about their magic being similar colors, but different, as a Channel divide thing, the same way the flags of their homelands are the same colors in different configurations. Maybe if someone else was bothered--but wouldn't Robbie notice? Wouldn't Chas?

    So it's with a worried frown that he looks down at his girlfriend, and says, "Whatever's going on, we'll figure it out." Non-committal. He doesn't really want to have an argument about the subject. Not just now. "But... we need to deal with these bodies, and call someone in. And I suppose I should explain exactly what happened. What I remember, now. Or should that wait?"

    He doesn't want to wait. He wants it all out in the open, now, to keep Chas from trying to kill him and Cael from pulling further away. But maybe they don't want to talk, just yet.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I think we should talk. I- about what happened. About Rien - maybe Chas'll know something we don't." What could Chas know that Jon doesn't? With Jon's connection to the Archive? Cael frowns for a moment, still holding tightly to Jon, before taking a step away. She starts fiddling with Chas' coat - closing the buttons to hold it closed around her naked form as she adds with a humorless laugh, "I'm going to have to start bringing spare clothes with me - aren't I?"
    Only once the buttons are closed does she put her cuff back on, and stoop to retrieve her cellphone from the remnants of her shredded clothes.
    "I could call SHIELD - see who they recommend out here to handle unusual stuff like this? Unless you know who to call already?" She looks between Jon and Chas, her features locked into a neutral expression to cover her roiling emotions.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    "The UK has a couple options there" Chas replies. "Section 31, NATO, the League" he shrugs. "Technically SHIELD and NATO work together on a number of projects but... yeah, I think we need to cover some bases first." He glances at Jon. "Why don't you start where you were touched by the same shit that's plaguing Rien and Robbie and how?"

    "If this shite's contagious I'd like to know sooner rather than later to avoid it spreading." He runs a hand through his long hair. "Fuck me, you two have been mostly isolated but Robbie... Rien... Lydia..." He blows out unnecessary breath in a huff. "Never thought I'd be the one to say it, but... I need a bloody fag."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon goes to fish cigarettes out of his pocket, casually lighting his own with a snap of his fingers and then handing one off to Chas. "I'll call it in," he says aside to Cael. "I'm the ranking agent, even if this isn't technically a SHIELD op."

    He sighs. "As for 'contagious?' I don't know. The two of us," he gestures at Cael, "and Lydia touched the fog in Robbie's apartment the other day. We were all at the house in Oxford, with that crack in reality. But the Old Ones, they've already..." Another sigh, and he takes a long drag on his cigarette.

    "The other reality Rien saw through the crack at Hill Top Road--there was another Jonathan Sims there. Another Archivist. I /think/ a past life, but I'm willing to admit it might just be an alternate universe version of myself." A glance to Cael. Then another sigh, and he launches into the explanation. About the other reality, how that Archivist ended the world, tried to save humanity from the pain and fear he'd caused, but ultimately let the Fears out to spread elsewhere. About the realization, at the end of it all, that they'd always existed, that his reality wasn't the source of the problem at all. Everything he'd tried to do had been fruitless.

    "At least I know where I get my fatalism now," Jon comments with a roll of their eyes. "Anyway, regardless of what kind of tie I have there--they've already touched me, here." A gesture around the room. "The Mother of Puppets was coming after me from a young age. I've been dodging her and the Watcher for decades. And ultimately... well..."

    He reaches up to rub at his face. "You know that brilliant idea, to bind Michael in two places at once, that wound up ending the universe for a few seconds? Yeah, that... that was the Spider whispering in my ear."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "And Jon already told me that these things - whatever the fuck they are - are planning on coming after me. After us, after the Justice League Dark. Wheeeee..." Cael actually lifts a finger in the air and twirls it - with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. "So- well. Contageous might be the wrong way of looking at it, but yeah. It's gonna spread. They're targetting us - possibly all of us."
    She lets out a heavy sigh. "And like I said earlier, Jon was thinking of making a deal with this... Watcher thing, to try to learn more about these things, and to use its power against the others. I- thought it was too risky. I mean, of course I don't want anything happening to Jon, but they thought following their gut might be- it could be some sort of insight from Ma'at guiding them." She rubs her hand over her face.
    "I said we should get a second opinion rom someone who knows more about this sorta this //than me// before any rash decisions but- well."
    Too fucking late.
    She drops the phone she'd picked up into the pocket of Chas's coat, and starts pacing slowly in the room - back and forth.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    "They're Old Ones, though not any that the Hosts have ever heard the name of... which is... troubling" Chas replies with a frown. "I wish them the best of luck attempting to touch me. I'm sort of locked up behind the strongest fortress ever so..." He places the cigarette in between his lips and it just lights. No expression of power, no flmae of magic. It just lights. He breathes out the smoke.

    He holds up a hand to Cael. "Why don't we slow it down and let Jon take it from the top. I know it's probably not something you want to get into, but... What was this dream? Be specific if you can. It might hold some clue to the why or the how of it all." He frowns. "If you have to monologue it in that Archivist way you do, then do so. It doesn't bother me any," he gestures to Cael, his eyebrows lifting in a question, "and I think Cael will make an exception for this case if it bothers her? Especially given the subject matter."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon frowns, and then turns away to start touching fire to the cobwebs in the room. Maybe he figures on clearing it out some before they call in SHIELD. "That was the first part of the dream. Seeing the end of that other reality. The rest..." He hunches his shoulders, and there's a flicker almost as if he's pulled out his wings and wrapped them around himself. Maybe he has, metaphorically at least.

    "I was suspended in a web of casette tapes. The Watcher and the Spider--the Mother of Puppets--were both talking to me. Trying to convince me to join them." A beat. "And before you say I took up the bloody offer, don't--don't make assumptions, okay? Either of you. Please, just--" They shake their head. "Look, it was... it's the /Spider/ I'm afraid of." They gesture at the cobwebs they're clearing out. "She consistently tricked that other Archivist. She's been coming after me since I was eight. And in the dream, she--she--"

    He shudders, and Chas might actually be able to sense the weird void-tinged fluctuations in his aura, where the Old Ones have been feasting on his fear. "She turned me into a spider," he whispers, staring down at the loom. "I--I had six extra eyes, one each from other people in the Justice League Dark. Two extra arms, two extra legs. It... turning me into that, it... hurt worse than /anything/ ever has. Even losing my arm, even dying. But there was a kind of--gods, she has my number. She talked about using the power to--to keep people safe. To be free to do what I want. A measure of control over the world, to try to /fix/ it."

    They take a long drag on the cigarette, and then blow the smoke out over the loom. "And she's right. Why do you think I blame myself for everything? If it's my fault, then I have control. I can fix it. And some part of me wants to make the world into exactly what I want it to be. Some part of me wants to know everything about everyone, and predict their every move. To wrap the both of you up in a cocoon and keep you safe. To guide Agnes' every step so she'll never get hurt."

    He looks up at the ceiling, finally. "Jung called it the Shadow. The repression of the id. I don't really use all of that in my psychiatry practice, but in terms of mysticism? Jung knew what he was on about. These things are attaching to our Shadows. All our worst fears, the worst bits of ourselves, the parts we don't want to accept, the parts we hide from." They chuckle. "The blind spots."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael continues pacing for a while as Chas speaks - and then Jon. After a while, though, she stops - turned away from Jon at first, before slowly turning back towards them, to make her way over. She reaches out her hand, resting it on Jon's arm, and giving them a small, sad smile. "You know I don't want to be protected that way." She let sout a sigh before adding, "But I sometimes have the same wish about you - as ridiculous as that might sound. I wish... I could keep you safe." And she wishes she had some notion of how to help Jon with this pain, but it's been shown time and again how much she struggles with it.
    Listen and affirm, right?

Chas Chandler has posed:
    Chas wasn't going to touch on Jon's acceptance of the offer even before Jon reprimanded him not to. He listens, casually smoking as an angel would do. He furrows his brows and blinks after a moment, focusing intently on something -just- over Jon's shoulder. When Jon finishes he nods.

    "Control seems to be her MO. This Eye though, this Ceaseless Watcher thing you've attached yourself to... or beaten into an uneasy alliance or whatever you want to call it... you said it was also there. What did it want? What does it do? I mean, I understand what it governs. Peeping toms, security cameras, nosy neighbors, but... what does it do with that infomration?" he asks, taking another drag on the cigarette and blowing out a billow of smoke.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Nothing," Jon says with a shrug. He finally turns back to face the other two. "Absolutely nothing. That's what the words I used to summon it meant--'You who watch and know and understand none.'" There's a soft choral hum overlaying the words. It might be a /bit/ uncomfortable to Chas. Or more than a bit. "That's the thing--the Watcher is /stupid/. It just... watches. It gathers in that information and... well, really, it feeds on the fear that's generated. That's what these things /do/. They feed on our fears."

    He gestures with his cigarette. "I'm afraid of being controlled, of being manipulated. I'm paranoid, afraid of how people see me and what they would think if they knew my secrets. And I'm also constantly afraid of what horrible knowledge I'm going to stumble upon, being the Archivist. What the Mother of Puppets and the Watcher were offering was that I let myself be controlled by that fear. That I feed off it, like they do. That I deliberately create it in others, so I can be powered by their fear. That I protect myself from the things I'm afraid of by hurting others, lashing out. A lot of people do that. /I/ do that, all the time. But that's not..."

    They smile at Cael, and reach over to squeeze her hand. "I know you don't want to be protected that way. And if you did, I'm not sure I'd love you, the way I do. So much of what I love about you is your fire and determination. But the thing is--acknowledging that desire is there? That some part of me /does/ want to just... control the lives of the people around me? That, yeah, sometimes I'm tempted not to /talk shit out/ but peer into someone's head? That's the only way to actually stop myself from /doing/ any of that."

    He sighs, and his expression grows mournful. "That other world, it had no other powers. There was no real way to fight the Fears without giving into one of them. But this one--we have magic, and will, and advanced technology. We have /heroes/. And heroes accept their fear and use it to make themselves better. So I made the Watcher a counter-offer. I let it see through my eyes, in exchange for its power. I won't deliberately cause fear for it, and I don't know how much fear it's going to get out of /me/, but it's not my fault if it doesn't like the terms of the deal. It agreed."

    There's a kind of calm surety to Jon's words, a brimming self-confidence neither of them have /quite/ seen before. Not consistently, anyway. It's been there in flashes, usually when he's facing down some enemy, but for once he doesn't seem terrified of how they're going to take this or lashing out in anger. He's just... explaining.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Peer into my head without permission and I will fuckin' clock you one," Cael remarks with a wry smile on her lips. "And you know it."
    Any levity in her tone disappears, though, as Jon continues. "It's seeing from your eyes?" she repeats. "What does it- really get out of that?" she asks, a frown on her lips. She even takes a step back as she adds, "Everytime you look at me- //it's// seeing me, too. But you don't think there's danger in that?" she asks bluntly.
    And seeing Bear, Lady, Nimue... and //Agnes.// This is how he protects them? A shiver runs through her, as she holds her arms across her chest. "You seem so sure of this." She doesn't share Jon's confidence, and she looks to Chas, to see what //he// thinks of this.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    Chas frowns as he hears the terms Jon set and the flavour of his words when he speaks with the voice of The Ceaseless Watcher. "I don't like it. I get what you did... but I really don't like it." He looks to Cael and can see the concern in her. "It's a leash. He's... made this Old One his pet for a time. If all it does is collects information there's not much else to do for it than watch if it's leashed."

    He bites down on the cigarette butt to hold it in place as he pushes back his hair again. "So... you said the Spider wanted you to hurt us all... and you took the power of the Eye to stop it? Why? Like... how does that truly stop it's control? Are these things independent and you can only have one or...?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "It's always been there, Cael," Jon says softly. "The Mother of Puppets has had her hooks on me from the beginning. The threads, they came /out of me/. And the Watcher is attached to my soul in a way I don't entirely understand. What it gets out of that is--well... you're afraid now." He sighs. "So you're feeding it." He sounds... resigned.

    He shakes his head. "She was going to make me kill Cael," he says bluntly. "Either give into her control, and she'd let us all go, or fight her and she'd force me to kill my love. She had access to my magic, to every scrap of power not given to me by Ma'at--more than I can normally access. I could have just given in, and protected everyone. Instead, I chose a third option."

    He's finished the cigarette; he drops the butt and grinds it out with his heel. "I know I said I'd talk to Chas first, and I intended to, but honestly? This is my decision. This was /always/ my decision. I finally remembered the first rule of magic--do what thou will. What my /will/ is, not what I want, or desire. What my soul propels me to do in the world. I could get all the advice from everyone I know in the world, but in the end, I had to make a choice."

    He looks between them. "I have to trust myself. I made a choice, and I'll live with the consequences of that choice. I also trust my friends, to keep me on the level. But what I've been doing, worrying about whether something I do will upset someone--cause Cael distress, or be something Chas or Rien will frown upon--it's only leading me astray. It's wearing me down, wearing me out. I can't control how you react to what I do--and that's what I've been doing. I've been questioning every choice I make, /everything/ I do, worrying about whether or not it will upset the people I care about."

    They shake their head. "I have to trust that you all trust /me/. That we can work through whatever misunderstandings, whatever pain. I have to trust that you're strong enough to handle this. Because, Cael--I /have/ been trying to cocoon you. I've been examining every word, every gesture, trying to make sure you don't freak out like you did after I died. Trying to make sure you never have to worry, never have to face any pain that I might cause. And that's just making us fight all the time. This--we're just going to have to figure out how to deal with it, while it's here. But it's not forever."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael still stands close to Jon, looking up into their eyes - but it's //not// their eyes. The eyes belong to something else, looking out at her from a face she loves. "And - what. I'm supposed to just stop being afraid?" she asks. She reaches up to touch Jon's cheek, still studying those unnaturally green eyes - that she's trying so hard not to hate in this moment.
    "I-" Cael falters for a moment, floundering for words, and not sure how to find the right ones. "You wanted to keep me physically safe. You didn't want me to get killed. Of course I understand that, but- to me it feel like trading the possibility of me getting killed, for the possibility of this thing... corrupting you, or changing you somehow. And one of those things scares me much more than the other."
    She sighs, and rests her head against Jon's chest. "How can you be so sure it can't do that to you? That you'll stay yourself through all of this? Because I don't think I'm the only one with that fear. I don't think it's an //unreasonable// fear."

Chas Chandler has posed:
    Chas clears his throat. "Even if he's not able to confirm it. I can..." he says. "His aura is consistent. It's him. Sure, there are chunks taken out of it. I imagine the fear that the spider and the... eye... took out of you. But you're insulated from it now. At least... the holes aren't growing. They're not healing but they're not growing either. So... small favors."

    He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his dark jeans and shifts his weight. He's still an imposing man all things considered, even without the energy of Heaven bolstering him. "So... you've got an Old One on this leash... what are you planning on doing with it? Each time you say 'sic 'em' it's going to get more brazen. More bold. You sure you can keep it contained enough to truly fight these things?" he asks. "Or is that part of it? You're going to feed it to keep it content. Complacent. Truly keep it as a pet for as long as this conflict persists?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon looks down at Cael, and then wraps his arms around her, pulling her close. "I can't be sure of that." A glance to Chas. "Of any of that. I trust myself, but I'm not going to give in to hubris. But I trust you, and my friends. I trust that /together/ we can handle this."

    They close their eyes, and sigh. "I was not going to let something use my magic to kill you, Cael. Even if we could have revived you--I was not. That would destroy me far more completely than this thing ever could, and I'm not going to apologize for it, okay? If she wasn't trying to use me directly, maybe I wouldn't have made the same choice. But what I did, it cut the strings. It severed her ability to use me, anymore. Because I /won't/ let them do that. I won't let them use me to hurt my friends, if I can help it." Their voice is fierce, and firm. "And I trust other people to keep an eye on me, the same way I'm keeping an eye on them."

    Eerie green eyes open again, and regard Chas. "As for what I plan to do with it? Using it feeds it, but I'll use it sparingly. I plan to trap the Spider beneath my boot and crush her exoskeleton like I would any others of her ilk. You don't know what she /did/. /I/ didn't know what she did, until just a few minutes ago. But I remember, now. I remember Annabelle. I remember--three times now, the Mother of Puppets has tried to snag me in her web. The first two times, someone else stepped in the way. There wasn't anyone to step in for me this time--but I was able to stop her regardless."

    A pause. "Annabelle Cane was my best friend, growing up. We were inseperable. She was the only one who believed me, about Mr. Spider. She came here as a child, and told me about it later. We decided to go to med school together. We got into Oxford together, we lived together--and then the Spider set up a trap for me, an experiment about arachnophobia meant to turn someone to her will. Annabelle fed me a broth made with shrimp so I'd be too sick to go and took my place. We had a blazing row and I didn't see her again until the night Agnes was born--when she revived Martin and took both of our memories. Including /all/ of my memories of /her/."

    He's shaking with rage by this point, but he still holds Cael, like she's a lifeline. "She serves the Mother of Puppets now. I don't--I don't know what she's doing, what game she's playing. Why she sent us here. I don't know how much of her is even left. But if it's just this--this Old One using her voice, then I am bloody well going to destroy it, once I find out what the hell happened. The same way you'll destroy the shell that's left if this thing /does/ take me over. I owe her that much."

Cael Becker has posed:
    The fact that Chas can //see// that it's Jon - that's of some reassurance to Cael, and a small degree of her fear and tension eases. Even if she somehow misses it - Chas will see it, and warn them if Jon begins to change. They'll have time to act - to try to free them from the Watcher. Whatever it really is.
    And as Jon begins to talk about his friend - she breathes out a sigh. "Oh, God, Jon..." She can only imagine how painful that must be for them. "If you see her - will you be able to see if there's anything of her left? Do you think there'd be any hope of saving her after so long?" she asks. "If there's a chance - I'd help. For your sake more than hers, but- if killing her's the only choice, then that's what we do."

Chas Chandler has posed:
    Chas' brow furrows. "The mousy woman you were always around, right?" he says with a nod. "I remember her. Didn't know who she was, but I just figured you'd drifted apart. That sometimes happens." He makes a point not to include himself as a victim of that. "Also didn't know she was in league with something like this." He shakes his head.

    He meets Jon's strange gaze for a moment before glancing aside. "You're right though. If you go wrong... I'll do what I have to do." He doesn't sound like he wants to, but ther hardline of his expression says he won't have much choice otherwise. "So... next step? Finding this woman, yeah? You know how to get ahold of her?" he asks, "Or how to track her down at the very least?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon peers down at Cael for a moment, and then laughs, squeezing her tight and picking her up, spinning around in a circle for a moment. He's laughing as he does so. "See? I should have known--I should have just /trusted/ that you can handle this." He sets her down and adds, "I know that it's hard. I know you're scared, and hurting. But thank you for sticking by me." They lean down to kiss Cael on the forehead.

    Then they look back up at Chas. "You remember her?" Their tone holds something like relief. "I will admit, I had /just/ a moment of--am I /crazy/? But no. No, this fits the hole in my life. All the things I wondered--what am I forgetting? Why do I think I'm this person I turn out not to be? The memories explain all of that. Tell me who I really am--which, admittedly, appears to be the person everyone who loves me has been telling me I am all along."

    After a moment, he adds, "I can see the threads, now. Where she's been, where she's living. She's at the house on Hill Top Road--but not in the real world. She's there on the Astral Plane. I want to do some preparation, talk to a couple of people, make sure we're ready to face her. And then..." He huffs out a breath. "And then we find out what's really going on."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael lets out a sound that's half gasp, and half laugh before she lets out a protesting, "Jon!" They put her down, and she thumps him once on the chest - but there's no strength or malace behind it. "Geeze," she mutters - just a ghost of a smile showing for a moment - before her expression sobers again. "Just- don't you leave me, okay? Don't you dare fucking leave me. You need to stay yourself, because- I don't want to have to stop you." Tears gather in her eyes as she tilts her head back to look up at Jon. "You have to stay yourself," she repeats - before putting her hand behind Jon's head, to pull them down for a kiss.
    When she lets go, she turns slightly away, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand, letting Jon continue as she listens. A frown grows on her features before she adds quietly, "We still have the question of- if //I'm// crazy," she reminds them, before looking determinedly at Chas.
    "Rien's wrong," she says flatly. "She's not Rien. She's not the woman that I remember. And she- when I pulled away from her hug, she gave me this grin, like- I don't know. It wasn't a friendly grin. Like she //knew// what I was seeing. Like it- amused and delighted her. So I thought- I was sure there was some sort of spell, that somehow I escaped but then Jon reminded me of the Archive and- I mean, Occam's Razor, the simplest explination is that I'm wrong, instead of everyone else being wrong but-"
    She shakes her head in frustration. "That's not Rien. I can't get past that feeling."

Chas Chandler has posed:
    Chas didn't notice anything offputting about Rien. At least not anymore than it's always been with her. He says as much. "I'm pretty sure that Rien is just being Rien" he frowns and focuses on Cael. "But... you're having the same problem as Jon. You were at the apartment so... perhaps this is a result of that same infection. Manipulating your perceptions. It is what they do."

    He ponders for a moment longer. "My advice... and this is simply advice, given what we know of these things. Try and spend more time around Rien. Try to push past whatever illusion or misleading perceptions they're trying to force on you. It might be a case of 'mind over matter' reinfornce what you know of Rien and get not let what they are showing you frighten you anymore." He shakes his head. "At this point that's all we can do. Try to overcome whatever issue they are putting on those who are being affected by them. Not give in to the fear that they're pushing."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Rien gives people those weird smiles all the time, Cael," Jon says gently. His brow is faintly furrowed. "There's... tiny chunks taken out of your aura. /Something's/ getting at you. You didn't have a nightmare, right? You would've told me."

    He bites at his lip. "It... makes sense, in a way, to... to try to sow doubt among us. To make us doubt Rien, you know? Or doubt you. Fight with each other. We can't let them do that. We can't let them get to us." He takes a deep breath in. Lets it out. "Maybe it's aimed at Rien, to make her doubt /herself/. That's what they were after."

    He reaches up to thread his fingers through Cael's hair for a moment, then leans down to return the kiss she gave him. Chas can just deal. When he pulls back, his expression is quite serious. "I'm going to start putting together a list, okay? All these manifestations, these Old Ones coming after us. I'll collect whatever people are experiencing, and we'll figure it out. Facing your fear, though--might be good advice."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael looks from one to the other, uncertainty on her features. It just- feels so wrong. Rien feels so wrong. "She tried to //hug// me, though," she protests weakly. "Why would I hug Rien? That's- it's a pretty short list." And Rien was nowhere near the list.
    "Her magic should be //blue,// Jon. It should be blue. That green is- It's all wrong. And just looking at it makes me-" She shakes her head.
    "You're both sure? I mean- it was eating away at her, right? I- what if we failed her? What if it ate her away and just- replaced her somehow?"
    She reaches out to take Jon's hand as she asks, "I'm not crazy. Right?"

Chas Chandler has posed:
    Chas frowns. "Look. I know you and I are still on... bumpy ground, but trust me. If one of those things replaced Rien I'd know. They can't touch me. My mind is still up in the Silver City. They can't get past the gates. If they did, it'd..." he shudders, a wave of terror beyond imagination running through him, "worse than what we're facing would be happening... all over."

    "I can't see anything different with her. She's still just.. Rien. Maybe she's being overly exuberant or something... I don't know... she's a touchy sort fo person and got a little carried away, that's all. And her smile?" He shrugs and makes a face. "I know it's going to sound racist; I assure you it's not. But, mutants are strange and sometimes they dip into the uncanny valley... Rien's just unfortuntely one of those. Probably due to the healing factor."

    "Just... try to get around what they're doing to you or to her... and tough it out" he reiterates, making a gesture of solidity and strength. "Try to. For the team. I'm sure we can overcome whatever it is that they're trying to sow between us."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon rolls his eyes. "You're being too nice, Chas. Rien can be a little /overly/ huggy, even by my standards. I think it's a French thing. Or, well, Gabby's pretty huggy too, maybe it's a family thing?" He shrugs. He just... shrugs, like all of Rien's behavior is just /how she always is/.

    He sighs, and reaches down to cup Cael's cheek with his left hand. "I don't think you're crazy, no--in that I don't think you're delusional. I believe that you believe this. I believe this is your memory of Rien. But we just saw--memory can be overwritten. Reality, including /angels/, is a lot harder. Occam's Razor, right? The most likely explanation is that something's overwritten your memories of Rien. And we need to figure out what, and how, and fix it, before it spreads."

    A pause. "I mean, why would her magic be... /blue/? That's the color she gave Gabby."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "They both had blue! They //matched//!" Cael insists - letting out a frustrated sigh. "She- she feels //wrong// to me. It fels so wrong. I-" But they're right, aren't they? It is the most logical explination. Isn't it? She saw the photos on Jon's phone...
    She leans into Jon's touch, closing her eyes - and breathing quietly after a moment, "Just- tell her not to touch me. I don't like to be touched." Does she see any irony in that statement, as she leans into Jon's hand?
    Of course not.
    "Look - we should call SHIELD, get this place... cleaned up. I need to get some clothes on, and- we were going to go home, and-"
    She takes a deep breath, opening her eyes as she straightens, and looks up at Jon. "I need a night away. I need a little time to myself to- to sort out my head, and figure things out, and- and come back. The, uh- the Avengers sent out some message about visiting other realities - maybe that'll help me understand some of this better. I don't know."
    She gives Jon a small smile as she asks, "You'll be okay for a night. Yeah?"

Chas Chandler has posed:
    Chas listens and offers a small grin in response to Cael's irony. At her question Chas rubs the back of his neck. "If you want I can stay with you..." he offers. "I don't mind and I'm sure Asa will understand." He's trying to help his best friend and he knows now is a raw point. But he also understands why Cael needs some time to gather her thoughts. Being touched by these things is... upsetting at the least. Having one mess with her head... he's surprised she's handling it as well as she is, to be fair.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon presses his lips together for a moment. "I can't say I won't miss you. And I can't say--tonight might be hard. But I understand it's hard for you, too. You need some time to adjust to... everything." He reaches out to tuck a piece of hair behind Cael's ear. "Take your time, love. I'll manage."

    He glances over to Chas and nods. "That might be a good idea, yeah. We should probably talk some more, about... well. What you remember, and what's going on here. What, ahh. What I might need to do, to ensure these things don't eat my soul." A brief smirk, and then he leans down to give Cael one last kiss before he pulls away and takes out his cellphone to contact SHIELD.