7320/Only a Little Longer

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Only a Little Longer
Date of Scene: 11 August 2021
Location: Clarice Ferguson's Quarters
Synopsis: A story is told, and then another. One too many, because a friendship...breaks.
Cast of Characters: Rahne Sinclair, Clarice Ferguson




Rahne Sinclair has posed:
Rahne has a book in her hands, and is semi-dozing in a chair in Clarice's room. She has her feet up, a blanket in her lap, and a thoughtful expression on her face. Game of Thrones is a bit of a heavier read, but she's sort of lost in it.

Her doctor approved the visit, so long as she did NOTHING. Today's activities have already taxed her system, but she's being monitored. By Clarice, who is likely bored to tears.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice is currently lounging on her bed, listening to Rahne read, her head resting on one arm as her brow wrinkles with puzzlement. "Wait - wait. Who's 'Little Finger' again?" she asks. "There's so many different characters!" she complains. And how is she supposed to keep them all straight, having jumped into the story part way?

Rahne Sinclair has posed:
Rahne frowns. She peers at Clarice, then closes her book. "Clary, if ah knew ye were gonnae listen I'd hae picked another book! This one is for me." She offers Clarice her hand, then sighs.

"Help me tae get another one. We can pick somethin' more interesting." Even for her, Game of Thrones is a heavy read. Maybe Harry Potter instead. Or Flight of Dragons.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Help you pick another one?" Clarice says uncertainly. "Umm..." She looks around her room - and then shrugs. "I don't exactly have any books in here," she remarks in a wry tone.
    "...what other sorts of books do you like, anyways?" she asks in a curious tone. "You read a lot? I know Lydia likes to read - but then, she's an author, so..."

Rahne Sinclair has posed:
Rahne tries to stand. She frowns, then untangles her legs from the blanket as she's thinking. "Clary, when ah was young ah was kept in a basement, under a church. Not allowed tae make noise, an' given th' bible tae read an tha' be about it."

She glosses over the rest, treating it as unnecessary for the moment. There'll be time. "Then one day someone slipped a book intae my window. Ah read it so many times, ah needed tae escape an' it gave me a way out. Now? What -don't- I read."

She grins, holding onto the back of the chair now, and says, "I would pure like tae read you all o' the books, but maybe we start wi' this." She reaches into her travel poucn, and pulls out a small, super old, fallen apart copy of Alice in Wonderland.

The book looks like it's fifty years old. It's long since dead, but clearly valued. This is, the book.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "...oh," Clarice remarks, her brow wrinkling in bafflement at this revelation. "Why? You were just... a girl. I mean, you weren't born with obvious mutation, right?" Why would he lock her up? She knows why she'd been confined. But... she hadn't //felt// her confinement, not really. Not at the time.
    Her gaze goes to the worn book as she asks curiously, "What's it about?"

Rahne Sinclair has posed:
Rahne shakes her head. Softly, firmly, as she settles down next to Clarice. "Ah dinnae know. Maybe it be something tae find out. But my earliest memories were o' the basement o' the chapel. Or sweepin in th' upstairs, or readin the bible. My father tol' me tha' ah was full o' sin, from my mother."

She pauses, then puts the book into her lap. "Did nae ever ask why. Tha' was a way tae get beatings. Book's about a girl, who does nae want tae study. So she sees a rabbit, who has on a coat and a watch."

She grins, knowing she's already halfway there, and leans in. "I be late, late! Th' rabbit says, an Alice looks up, surprised, for rabbits do not normally talk!"

She tells a little. The rabbit, the rabbit hole. The fall, oh so far. The world, the world within.

Wonderland.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Children are innocent," Clarice counters simply. She doesn't understand religion at all - but she knows enough to have a vague notion of what 'sin' is.
    Still - she's willing to let it all drop as Rahne talks about the girl, and the rabbit. "I'll admit - I'm not much of a fan of studying, myself. And I've never seen a rabbit with a coat and watch either. I think I'd follow it, as well. It's... a strange way to start a story, though. It's obviously not possible."

Rahne Sinclair has posed:
Rahne grins. "It gets a pure lot worse. Thaur be talkin' flowers, an' a bandersnatch tha' bites an' claws. An' a caterpillar taller nor you!" She grins, she leans in conspiratorially. She whispers, "It be a dream. Es jus' a story, Clary."

Then she hugs. "Nor all girls are allowed innocence. Sometimes ah wanted tae have jus' a little o' that back."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "...I wasn't allowed innocence," Clarice admits as she returns the hug, letting out a quiet sigh without going into it further. Not after the age of five, anyways. "What's a bandersnatch, though?" she asks with puzzlement. "I don't think I've ever had a dream quite as mad as all that! Have you?"

Rahne Sinclair has posed:
"Th' bandersnatch, et never really shows up in th' story. So ah'm nae sure what it is," Rahne admits. She opens the book, flipping carefully to one particular part. Then she frowns. "Ye might actually think et be more strange. Et has claws that snatch, an' jaws that bite, but it ne'er catches Alice."

She pauses, teasing a little by adding, "Now th' Jabberwocky, tha's a different matter."

But that comment about innocence, that hit home. And her hand tightens on Clarice's own, in her lap. And she offers, "D'ye want tae tell me abou' it?"

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Oh. So the bandersnatch and jabberwocky aren't real!" Clarice exclaims, as the second ridiculous name makes it click for her. "....I thought a bandersnatch was an animal I never heard about before."
    The question from Rahne, though, has her gaze going uncertainly to Rahne's features, before locking on their joined hands instead. "Are you- are you really sure you want to hear about something like that?" she asks uncertainly. "The Mutate Program wasn't kind. Especially not to- I mean, some mutants they were using to do construction, or food production, or transportation, things like that. But me, they- I was trained as an assassin."

Rahne Sinclair has posed:
"Yes." Rahne doesn't even hesitate. There's a power in her, something that never comes out normally. She looks directly into Clarice's eyes, even if the girl doesn't look back, and her heart is strong. "Ah want tae hear. If ye want tae tell me. Thaur be somethin' in sharin' pain, Clarice. Makes it lessened. An...shared joy, be made stronger."

She has learned that, so young. She lifts Clarice's hand, then puts a small kiss on her knuckles. Unless stopped, unless Clarice runs away.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice continues to cling to Rahne's hand as her hand is lifted and kissed - but her eyes never lift far from where those hands had rested a moment before, as silent tears begin to fill her eyes. Where to start? How to tell it?
    "They had us collared, you know. Collared and drugged. It kept us docile - compliant. Like we weren't really people. We were things. We waited to be used - waited to be needed. They- they experimented on me. Procedures to- I don't know. To make my gift stronger? Different?"
    She's silent a moment before adding quietly, "They used to bring people to me - prisonners, I think? To- do I could practice killing on- on moving targets. With accurate human anatomy. I have killed //so many// people, Rahne... Why would you- Someone like- like you..."

Rahne Sinclair has posed:
"Would ah forgive?" Rahne's voice is softer, like it's uncertain of some other things. She takes a breath, letting it out with a gentleness and private warmth. "Clary, ye be my friend. Thaur be so much wrong en th' world already. Don't ye think tha' thaur be enough, wi'out me being a raging douche tae m' best friend?"

She smiles, oh she smiles. It seems to go on forever. "Th' bible says tha' god only punishes th' wicked." Of course, she had to go there. "Th' bible is wrong. Ye are one o' th' best people I ever met. An' I love ye."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Why would you even- why would you want to be my friend?" Clarice asks quietly. Best friend? Love? Both of those things mean more than she could express, and she tugs gently at Rahne's hand, trying to pull her in closer, tears still streaming silently down her cheeks.
    "I am wicked, though. Aren't I?" she certain Rahne's Bible would say so.

Rahne Sinclair has posed:
Rahne comes in closer, letting her cry. Letting her have this, and it matters. "Of course ye be wicked," she murmurs into Clarice's cheeks. "I forgive ye, because ye need someone tae forgive. So someday, ye can forgive...yourself."

She reaches up and touches a tear. "Wicked, holy. Ye can be two things, Clarice. Ah'm no a cabbage, ah can be complicated too. An' so can you."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "I'm not holy," Clarice answers quietly. Somehow, she ends up tucked into Rahne's arms, still crying. Desperately wondering if she dared tell Rahne the truth - the whole truth.
    "I- I-" What if Rahne turned away? What if she was disgusted by her? "What if I- what if I need to kill? If- if a part of me- what if I enjoy it?" she manages to stammer out past her tears. What then, Rahne? Will you still love her?

Rahne Sinclair has posed:
It does make her pause. She looks at Clarice's face. "Do ye?" she asks, trying to touch Clarice's cheek with the side of a fingertip. "Ah willnae try tae tell yer story for ye, if tha' be th' truth, then it be better out nor in." She seems quieter, the smile's faded away. But she hasn't run off.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice's free hand finds purchase on Rahne's shirt - scrunching it up tightly in her grip. She doesn't speak at first - but the intent behind that gesture. Please... stay. Please don't leave me.
    She could deny it. She could say she was confused. She could say- what? What could she possibly say?
    "I need to kill. Sometimes. Sometimes, I- my thoughts are racing, and- and my emotions are- are screaming, and I can't- I just... I feel like I'm going to explode, and the only way- the only ways I- I can find quiet again, I- But they're bad people, Rahne. They're bad people. They're always- I don't-" Oh God, please don't go...
    "Sometimes I need to kill."

Rahne Sinclair has posed:
Rahne's fingers are still on Clarice's arm, to the point of pulling back. She seems to have something in her eyes, as she searches Clarice's face, her eyes looking all over that face as if seeing her for the first time. She doesn't bite her lip, she doesn't want this.

She says, "I...can't..." as if she's breaking in half. Oh lord, how do you handle this. I stepped into danger for this, because it's not the way.

This goes against everything I believe.

This is Clarice.

Rahne closes her eyes, distancing somehow without moving. She doesn't get up and leave, but she's not 'there' anymore either. She doesn't get up and go. She doesn't leave.

And then, she does. With tears cascading down her cheeks, littering the floor with rain.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    When Rahne jerks away, Clarice's grip tightens for a moment, then suddenly releases. Even as a mess of tears, and fear, and regret she knows one thing - you can't make someone stay, so she lets ago.
    It just means she sobs all the more desperately into her bed, burying her face where no one can possibly see her.
    Oh God. Oh God, what did she do? Why did she say that? Why did she tell her?
    Why?