Close Encounters of the Aquatic KindThursday March 22nd. Early evening.
He wasn’t the greatest of adventurers no. In fact, he was pretty much afraid of the unknown, afraid of stepping into something he knew he had little control over. “So this is the legacy of the Afghan,” he muttered absently, turning into an open hallway. “Thousands of years of war-like tribalism, and all I get is the curly hair and stigma.” He wasn’t as brave he wished to be, and certainly wasn’t as strong as he needed to be. From what he had seen on the streets of New York, and what had happened to him, the Afghan was nothing more than a two-bit player in a game of multi-dimensional chess. He was the lone gust in a hurricane, the lone grain in a desert of sand.
And usually, he would have liked being unnoticed and meek.
But not after what had happened.
Even now he could feel the strange tingle in his skin where the needle had pricked him. Stroking tanned fingers across his right arm, he winced as his tips brushed over the small red welt growing near his hand. The wound wasn’t as painful in the physical sense, but the memories attached with it were hauntingly sore. The effects of the dart had been instantaneous, and Armaan had never felt so vulnerable in his entire life. Unable to shift, unable to change, he was a sitting duck, just waiting to be torn apart by an angry mob. If it hadn’t been for Will, Armaan didn’t know what would have happened. Would have been captured like the others, or would he have died?
The debates in his mind were tortuous, and he needed to find clarity. That was why he felt the need to head to the sickbay and find the doctor. Hank McCoy was a known psychiatrist and a talented physician, and Armaan knew the man was one of the few who could help him. He needed to tell someone, anyone, about what had happened, about the men in black coats, about their capture of mutants. The news had done a good job of turning the story into an anti-mutant riot, and not a single media source spoke of mutant capture and detainment by those eerily similar men. It had frustrated Armaan and although he had wished to keep his ordeal hidden, he knew he had to notify someone before something even worse transpired.
Nimble fingers found their way into curly hair, as the immaculately cut nails began to scratch at his scalp in thought. He hadn’t been to this wing in ages, and was having trouble finding the Medical Bay. Turning another corner across wood panelling, he found himself standing before twin doors, the sign of the Medical Bay inked clearly above its threshold. Pushing the doors slowly, he stepped into the brilliant white light that marked the room as a clinic of some sort. There seemed to be no one inside, and Armaan wondered if he was too late. He hadn’t heard of the Sickbay having any timings, but he could have been wrong.
Walking further into the spotlessly clean clinic, he ran a hand across the front desk, wondering if anyone would show up, when he spotted what looked like a giant fish tank next to the far windows. Brows knotted in confusion as he move towards it. What was a tank doing inside the school, and what sort of giant fish was Dr. McCoy experimenting with?
Arriving at the tank, and unable to see anything inside it, he brought his face closer and pressed his slender palm against the glass. These people, he mused absently, a small smile lighting up his face. They seem to have the most unique taste in decoration.
The undernurious mutant known to the Murlocks as 'Lorne', found himself for the first time in perhaps his entire life able to actually laze in a gentle beam of sunlight. Even if to most is a wet day like the ones before and the ones undoubtedly to come, for Lorne he had never seen a sky so grand before! The moisture didn't hang in the air as thickly as the day before, the clouds were paper thin and lightly scattered and the blue skies seemed to spread on forever. The base of the tank had half a meter of solid wall instead of glass, enabling some inkling of privacy even if it only reached to the knees or lower thighs of most people.
Lorne's diet lacked many things, boiled eggs seemed to be the food that sustained him the most, though it hardly was all he needed. Meats were hard to obtain, most foods were, and strips of chicken were the most he could hope for, many other foods were not at all appealing for the boy though he nibbled at anything when he had nothing else to eat. The Murlocks had some chickens, three at the moment, they always got low in numbers after a festive meal, however three of the saved chickens went missing, leaving the number far lower then usual. Luckily bread stores usually threw away a lot of old baked breads, leaving ample of scraps to be mixed together for the birds.
Eggs... Lorne actually really liked his boiled eggs. Even at the worst of times, there seemed to always be an egg there for him, snatched up and saved especially for Lorne. It was getting late... and food had grown heavily on the amphibian's mind. Hunger was always there, it was a constant, but if there had been any chance for an afternoon meal earlier, it was robbed of the swimmer due to all the preperations and moving from his old home to... well.. to his new one.
That was a nice thought. An old home, where he was more then welcomed back at any time. And a new one, one to explore and discover! Despite being here, despite laying on the base of his tank surrounded by strange and unfamiliar sights, Lorne still couldn't believe he was here! The movements outside could be felt all too clearly as a body approached the tank, the footsteps alien and unrecognizable. A touch of homesickness seemed to come alive at the thought... to miss hearing familiar footsteps.. but now he got to hear new ones! That's all Lorne had to focus on, that new and strange, the adventures he always dreamed off... and the possible offering of food!
And in a graceful corkscrew movement, Lorne glided effortlessly from where he lay hidden to positioning himself upright, his body lifting into view almost suddenly, though his movements graceful and slow. Hands pressed against the window from within the tank, more to help push him back a little as his own scaled body drifted too close to the barrier. Other palms rested against the glass, pulsating with life, causing the entire tank to almost resonate with the beat of the strangers heart.
"Oh." A soft startled cry came from the confined mutant, his body dressed only in sleek black shorts. The webbed hands that had lightly touched the glass now pulled away, a curious tilt of Lorne's head following as his large eyes studied the figure outside. The heart rate had increased, enough to tell Lorne that surprise had struck him as Lorne had come into view. "My apologies if I startled you.. perhaps I am over zealous in my anticipation for the doctors return." A grin formed on the kind lips of the aquatic youth, his pleasentness heard in the amused words previously spoken.
Re: Close Encounters of the Aquatic Kind
He recoiled instantly and almost tumbled to the floor. Whatever he was expecting, Armaan really wasn’t expecting….well, whatever that thing was. Steadying himself, he realised his heart was pounding wildly in his chest, while a sudden trembling had overtaken his hand. He had never been good with surprises, and the fact that something could frighten him so suddenly was unnerving. It took him a few seconds to adjust, but as he did, he realised that whatever it was that had frightened him was staring right at him, its fish-like blue eyes shining with sentient intelligence.
For a few seconds all Armaan did was stare back, even as the creature spoke to him.
It was so…different, and yet the sand mutant wasn’t frightened. Although he himself was of the race, Armaan did not know the extent mutation could transform and mould an entire being. Seeing Arisa was odd, but he realised that she was normal- and expected. In terms of physical manifestations, it was Armaan who was the odd one; with his completely human looks and lack of outward materialization. No one could ever tell he was different, no. Not until he changed into sand…only then was he unusual.
But then again, in that state, he wasn’t even…humanoid.
Taking a step forward as he adjusted to the fact that the creature could pose no danger, Armaan found himself smiling, and a tint of red flushed his tanned cheeks. “Don’t be sorry,” he said, his smile brightening. “It was rude of me to gawk in the first place.” He did not know why he was being friendly, or even so calm. The movies and books told him to be weary, to be afraid of anything even remotely different from the reality he held so firmly to. This creature was what a human would call a monster, a…thing. Few would understand it, and even fewer would hesitate to shoot it.
But Armaan was not like them. His duty was not to himself, but to his Lord, and until he was proved wrong, no force in the world could make the Afghan cast snap judgements based on initial appearance.
Dark hazel eyes brightened as they peered into the tank again, while soft lips stood frozen in an shy smile. He had chosen to wear his long-sleeved black Afghan tunic today, and the colour seemed to reflect that of his curly hair. Falling to his knees, the embroidered shirt had been tailored for him specially by his mother on his arrival in Afghanistan, and every time he wore it, he felt like he was closer to home, closer to the only place he felt really comfortable. A pair of jeans finished off his attire while a leather strap-watch graced his left wrist.
“So the Doctor is coming back then?” Armaan asked, his eyes moving back towards the door.
In his surprise the Afghan had almost forgotten the reason he was in the med-bay, and for a moment he realised that the nervous fear from the other day had abated significantly.
Re: Close Encounters of the Aquatic Kind“Don’t be sorry,” The darker skinner mutant assured as he continued on, a slight darkening of his cheeks barely noticed by Lorne who was more focused on the heat that swelled and made his embarressment more easily noticed by Lorne, “It was rude of me to gawk in the first place.” Lorne could not blame him, after all as Lorne seemed unusual to Armaan, Armaan's normalcy seemed just as unusual to Lorne. The amphibious mutant recognized him as human, and wasn't sure if that was because he was human or a human looking mutant... Lorne wasn't sure how common it was for mutants to look human, then again, this was a school for mutants after all.
“So the Doctor is coming back then?” With a slight tilt of Lorne's head, the mutant realized that being here must mean this other youth had a desire to see the doctor as well. Not that Lorne could be very helpful with answering, he wasn't sure how long it took to go and get food... Hank hadn't said he'd be long, but there was also no telling what distractions might occure between here and there and back again.
"Dr McCoy was wanting to get some food for me, I am unsure how long he will be, he did make it sound as if he would not be gone for a great amount of time." Lorne tried to offer what little he did know to the other, though it came to the amphibian that he hadn't even introduced himself just yet! "I have not been here long, and my awe has stiffled my manners, I must apologize again," There was a chuckle, his large eyes moving over the neatly dressed figure, the cleanliness alone was a strange thing Lorne was having to get used to. "I am Lorne of the Morlocks, and it is an honour to meet you." While an arm moved before his stomach, a bow of his upper body followed to give a polite greeting, his legs very slowly moving to help keep him a few inches from the base of the tank.
Hank was saying that Lorne would not be here for long, that he'd be given a room, but for now the scaled mutant found himself not minding it here.. At least here it was like at home, where people had a chance of walking by, and if they walked by, perhaps they'd stop for a moment to talk. It was bad enough not being able to walk around and talk, being locked away where none could see him caused the teenager to worry that with time he would be forgotten, people always had such busy days, and sometimes a hurshed passing by was the only greetings he got from some people.
Re: Close Encounters of the Aquatic Kind“And I am Armaan, of the…uh, of here. Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. It’s great to meet you, Lorne.” Truthfully, Armaan did not know who the Morlocks were. Were they a race of mutants, or were they something different all together? Something like Kylora, who was from a different dimension, or perhaps he was an alien, a creature from distant space. Now that was a definite possibility. His mother had told about the different missions to space and beyond the X-men had to undertake, and for the young Afghan, nothing was really ‘normal’ until it had at least a scant trace of abnormality.
He figured it came with the whole being a mutant thing, but also because he somehow felt part and parcel of the world’s oddities.
He did not look like a mutant, and perhaps that was what set him apart from them. No green hair, no cat-eyes, no furry skin. There were no wings sprouting from his back, and his voice was as normal as any eighteen year-old could expect it to be. It was almost as if he straddled both worlds, and yet belonged to neither. He was someone of the divide, someone who never truly fit in anywhere. When in Afghanistan, he was seen as an American. In the States, he was an Afghan. To the mutants he passed for human, and to the humans, well…he was one of them only on the outside.
And yet he knew each world personally. He could understand them, embrace them, respect them. Even if he did not completely belong, there was a sense that something felt right, as if he were both observer and participant.
But Lorne. Lorne was perhaps something different all together. A new acquaintance, a new arrival, and perhaps a new friend.
There were so many questions inside his head that Armaan struggled not to ask them all. Where was this man from? What exactly was he? How old was he? Why was he here? Did he feel confined in that tank? Pushing them down, he instead offered a simple smile and slipped his hands into his pocket. “I’m sorry to sound so ignorant, but what exactly are The Morlocks?” He said uncertainly, not sure if he should have asked the question or not…
Re: Close Encounters of the Aquatic Kind“I’m sorry to sound so ignorant, but what exactly are The Morlocks?” It was strange, because for Lorne all he knew were the Morlocks, the people had been his world, his family, his very existence seemed to have relied on their care and nurture. And to know that there were people who knew nothing of this family that Lorne was part of, the only family he had ever known... it seemed... almost difficult to believe. It didn't really occur to Lorne to explain they were mutants, as for Lorne that seemed so natural that it was hard to imagine that Armaan would think them anything else.
"They are my family," The amphibious mutant informed with a proudness that made it clear just how much he felt for them. "We are not different to you and your... Xavier's." To be honest, Lorne wasn't sure what else to call these people at this point, it seemed Xavier's was the best name to use for them, but Lorne had no idea who or what Xavier was, and it seemed like a strange name to call something. But it was a name, and it obviously held some sort of meaning, perhaps Lorne should attempt to find that meaning out. "What does seperate us is merely while you live up here in the world with humans... we live below, hidden away from the human world." Lorne had never seen a real human before, but he did see a picture of a woman once, one that was apparently human, for Lorne her normalcy looked strange. She was little different to him then all the others he grew up with that each looked in their own certain way a little different... or a lot different.
"Forgive my ignorance in turn, but may I ask... what is Xavier?" It seemed that questions were in the air and Lorne had to admit he really wanted the chance to ask a few, he missed company and as much as he loved the Morlocks he always felt as if he never got enough time to just talk with the others closer to his age. He loved Gnarl and the elder man treated Lorne as a son, but most of the other younger Morlocks were too full of energy to sit around and talk to someone behind a panel of thick glass. Some tended to read with Lorne, a few did make time for him, but he always had to rely on others to approach him. "Or is it just the name for which you have called this place?"
Re: Close Encounters of the Aquatic Kind"We live below, hidden away from the human world."
That’s Fantastic! If he wasn’t wide-eyed before, Armaan surely was now. Ever since his return to Xavier’s, Armaan had met an assortment of people from diverse background. From cowboys to Indians, and from inter-dimensional beings to…to beings who lived below. These Morlocks, the ones who lived under the ground, they seemed so unique, and although Armaan had only just met one of them, he felt pressed to find out more. Did they all look the same? What did the females look like? What did they worship? How was their society organized. The questions increased at an exponential pace, and the young Afghan struggled not to blurt them out.
The way Lorne seemed to assume that Xavier’s was a family made Armaan smile a little. He had never seen the people of his school as Kin, but he understood that a group of people living together could work like a family. A dysfunctional, super-powered family, but a family nonetheless. There were some he got along with fantastically, like Kylora, or Arisa, and then there were the ones he felt edgy around, like Darren, or Max. It was all part and parcel of the high-school experience, and with his mother in Afghanistan, these people really were his family.
He had no one else to rely on. No one else to talk to. Xavier’s was his world, and if anything ever happened to it…
The thought lingered, only to be interrupted by Lorne, who seemed puzzled as to function of Xavier’s.
“Xavier’s is a school, and a bit more, I guess,” Armaan said, still struggling with his lisp. He didn’t know how much he could tell Lorne, or how much he should tell Lorne. Telling strangers about a school for mutant teenagers was a difficult issue, and anyone on the wrong side of the mutant divide ever found out how it gave sanctuary to other mutants…
Instantly Armaan thought back to the events in the city. The attack, the backlash, the powerlessness. It was what he had come to talk to the Doctor about. He wanted to tell Dr. McCoy about the tingling sensation on his skin, and possibly warn the staff about the dangers he had seen yesterday. But what if the doctor didn’t believe him? What if they didn’t take the threat seriously?
It was just another thought that lingered as he continued to explain.
“Its named after our founder, Doctor Charles Xavier, who wanted a school for students with…uh, abilities. Most of us also live here” Figuring his answer was brief enough, Armaan knew t was his turn to keep the conversation alive. “Do they have schools where you come from? You know…below?” As if tracing the ground, Armaan looked down, almost expecting Lorne to understand the gesture.
Re: Close Encounters of the Aquatic Kind
What was it like to be down there? Did they have schools? Sure, Lorne wondered of some of the things he took for granted and if similar things happened here or if it was done differently. Lorne was amazed, amazed at how alike they were despite all their obvious differences, all the things that set them apart. It seemed as if the two of them, in all their differences, were so alike, and so similar, and so very, very strange to the other. Large eyes stared over the strange features of Armaan, which to the amphibian mutant was just as unique to all the other mutants that Lorne had grown up with, most of which were different in appearance varying from slight to almost inhuman. With a quiet study of the other youth, Lorne thought of his question, thought of the different ways that he could answer it, the different thoughts that could be passed between them. What was it like down there… or should Lorne be more honest and answer what it was like down there for him.
A soft sadness drifted into the unusually large eyes, a knowing of it’s arrival causing the strange eyes to lower their gaze. Webbed fingers moved to trace lightly over the cold class, gills shifted more visibly as a deep breath was drawn in. Looking up at the surface of the aquarium Lorne gazed thoughtfully, arms swaying gently beside him a moment later and soon his legs helping lift Lorne to the top, hands breaking free of the watery cage and into the air and gripping the sides of the glass walls. Light splashes of water dribbled over the edges, running down the clear front of what was both Lorne’s cage and his sanctuary. A lean figure pulled itself out of the wetness, water cascading from the form, which took enough care to allow most of it to return to the body of water inside the aquarium and not onto the doctors floors, or worse yet, Armaan. The athletic strength of the 17 year old mutant was visible as he kept his body poised on the edge of the tank, waiting long enough for the water to mostly dribble off his form, slowly lifting his legs out of the water to reduce the puddle of water that would surely come from him climbing out.
Carefully sliding down the side of the tank, Lorne let webbed toes touch the floor, a pooling of water forming about his feet despite the amphibian’s best attempts. With a few gulps of air the room was assessed briefly, Lorne’s hands remained palmed pressed against the glass as he stood soaked a few feet from where Armaan had been standing. Fists clenched carefully, strangeness was felt in the air, a curiosity in Lorne’s eyes would show this, another few gulps of breath taken in awkwardly.
"The air here is different," Lorne began, his voice slightly harsher for a moment while air and water mixed in his lungs, "It feels smoother, I draw a breath and it’s more like I breath a softer silk, below it felt thicker, heavier, the smells are different here, softer," Two thin slits that were Lorne’s nostrils parted slightly as he drew in the scents about him more noticeably, "Your air is dryer," He assessed, finally pulling his hands from the glass, as if a child letting go of their security blanket and throwing themselves into a slightly scarier world. "Your world is brighter, I like the brightness of your world… sometimes it hurts my eyes, but still I do enjoy it," Darkly striped blue scaled skin gleamed from the moistness, "But your world is lonelier… so few people can be seen, I’ve rarely seen such… emptiness," Another few gulps were made, a slight struggle in taking in the air around him, was this what Armaan had been curious about? Lorne wasn’t sure entirely, different people preferred knowing different things about places, some liked knowledge of the people, some liked descriptions of the lifestyle itself, of the things that are done, the things that are believed… at least that is what Lorne had read.
"We are taught not to speak of our home… because we are different, so we are feared, and that fear put us in danger, and that danger can harms us," There was a pause, webbed fingers drifted slowly in front of Lorne, opening and closing, his palms gliding in curious motions before folding his arms and drawing them close to his chest, "However, I sense that such things are one of many things we have in common, surface dweller," Sharp lips curved into a lop-sided smile as the younger mutant teased Armaan with the name commonly used in slang regarding those that lived in the upper world. "And indeed, we have schooling, much to the dismay of our youngsters," A soft chuckle came, large eyes taking a moment to examine around them, dropping to gaze at the small pooling of water about his feet. Since the tunnels below were moist and damp anyway, it never occured to him that his soaked body would make a mess... at least one that stood out so noticably.
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