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| Shhh, You're Thinking Too Loud! | |
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| Participants | Ben, Brooklyn |
| Synopsis | Brooklyn heads over to St. Brigid's for some peace and quiet. That is until Ben comes by and disturbs her with his loud thinking. |
| Location | St. Brigid's Roman Catholic Church - East Village - Manhattan |
| Time | 2016/02/16 |
| Posted By | Ben |
Quiet…blessed quiet. It's why Brooklyn spends any time at all in St. Brigid's. Not particularly religious, she still uses the place as a sanctuary; a sanctuary from the sounds, the excitement, the thoughts of others. When she feels herself being overwhelmed, she might make an effort to duck in here. The thick walls, the reverent quiet of the few people who do come in, and the fact that she can be left the hell alone in peace all make this an increasingly more-popular destination for her within the city.
Brooklyn sits, slouched in one of the farther pews of the church. One leg is pulled up onto the pew, a ratty Chuck Taylor planted on the polished wood of the bench, with her knee in her chest practically. Torn and ripped jeans reveal the flashes of black and white harlequin-striped leggings underneath. A thick, oversized and well-worn leather biker jacket, sized for a very large man, totally envelops the rest of her body, as she just sits there in peace and quiet.
Peace and tranquility are in short demand these days, as is blessed quiet. Sometimes a body has just got to get away. It’s that quest that has Benjamin entering the church. He has never been here before but this is a good a place as any to get off the streets.
Clad in dirt jeans, a black wool coat pulled over a black cotton hoodie and a pair of Black & White Converse sneakers, the youth creeps in, trying not to disturb the hush that rests over this hallowed hall. Nervously eyeing the older parishioners who have taken up spots on one side of the church, he quickly slides in a row or two behind Brooklyn. This must be the young people's side. Ben slumps in the pew trying not to draw attention to himself. Still, to look at him, the worry and desperation is clearly etched on his face.
The worry and desperation isn't just etched on his face…it's etched on his mind as well. Compared to the rest of the parishioners, Ben's presence is immediately like a storm cloud in the large church. Sure, there are people in here praying, confessing, but their fear, desperation, pain, faith, or whatever else is hidden. They've tried to swallow whatever it is affecting them, and it blunts what boils to the surface for Brooklyn to be able to read.
Ben, however, either because of his proximity, boils over. A few rows up, Brooklyn starts to squirm a little uncomfortably, visibly perturbed by something. Over the top of bench back, she spins to look at Ben. It's the look old ladies give kids who talk in church…though Ben has yet to say a danged thing!
Ben glances around nervously, feeling very out of place. He hasn't come to pray or confess. Just looking for a warm place to rest and maybe something to eat. He catches Brooklyn's glare which just throws his thoughts and emotions into more of a flux than before. He stares back at the blonde with a bewildered look. It clearly asks 'whowhatwherewhyhow?' In physical responses, the kid sinks even lower in his seat. If only his psychic presence was as unobtrusive. «I didn't do anything», he ponders to himself. «Why the hell is she looking at me like that?»
Her response is quick, and lacks any real subtlety. «SSSSSSHHH!» she hisses. It's not out loud. It's right in his head. Intense blue eyes stare right at him as she pushes the thought into his mind. It's a pretty simple command, that's why she's so utterly forceful about it. Whether or not he picks up the idea that she's a thought pusher or if he's just imagining it in his mind is undetermined at this point. Sure, she's well aware of the fact that announcing your presence as a mutant is bad news bears in some cases. In other cases though, sometimes you just don't want your thoughts interrupted; that's incredibly difficult for her, after all, and she's not about to let him interrupt her here tonight.
Ben jumps up as Brook's thoughts push their way into his head. He looks around in obvious shock and surprise. Fortunately the tactic does have the desired effect as Ben's thoughts and emotions simmer down noticeably. Now all that's coming from him is confusion, a quiet confusion mind you. The teen looks around suspiciously His gaze eventually falls on Brooklyn. He regards her intensely. "Did you say that?"
"Not out loud," she replies with a bit of a huffy tone. "Seriously though, shut the hell up and settle your mind. I came here for the quiet, not for the teenage angst." Well, there's a bit of a shocker; she may look like a teen, but Brooklyn's in her mid-20s. The rest of the place is so tranquil, she's not about to let one undisciplined little teen wreck it for her. If she wanted to be aggravated by the buzz of frustration, worry, whatever, she'd step outside and walk down the street. Just about everyone has those things on their mind nowadays.
The fact that he has no idea what Brooklyn is talking about is plain to see without telepathy. That just makes it more self-evident. "What the hell are you talking about?" Inwardly Ben attempts to quiet himself down because, well, she told him to. "Who are you?" Ben blinks a few times not sure what to make of all of this. "I am being quiet." Verbally that is.
"Yeah…from your mouth," she quips back. "I'm not talking about your mouth." To emphasize her point, she taps her temple a little with the first two fingers of her right hand. «Some of us hear more things» she tells him, without opening her mouth. "Name's Brooklyn," she says, spinning back around in her pew and sinking back down.
"WHATTHEHELL!" That telepathic sending takes Ben completely by surprise causing him to actually fall out of his seat. For someone who didn't want to distrub the tranquility of the church that's exactly what he's gone and done now. He gets a boat full of angry looks and sharp murmurs from the congregants around. Getting back into the pew, Ben just stares silently, mouth just agape. Taking a cue from Brooklyn, he also slinks back down in his pew. "Ben…" he replies after a moment more of silence. He whispers harshly, "How did you…..?”
"Just something I can do, you know. A gift." Brooklyn talks to Ben over the back of her pew without even turning to look. She's still sunk down on the wooden seat though, so only the back of her blonde head is visible; some of the hair has been pushed up against the back of the bench into a little muffin top. "Takes more practice to keep jerks like you out, though," she grumbles.
"I don't understand…." says Mr. Overstate-The-Obvious. "You did it?" He's silent for a few moments after that, but Brooklyn can hear the word 'gift' echoing in his mind clear as a bell. Ben peers over the pews at tuft of blonde hair. "Are you a …." The rest of the question is unspoken but obvious: mutant. Incredulous eyes peer at Brooklyn. «Can you really hear me or are you putting me on. This is a joke…»
The rest of the church is sort of blocked out now. Ben is the only one whose voice she can hear now, as she focuses on him. It's one of her methods of coping with things, to focus on one individual and pry deeper, much deeper. "This ain't no fucking joke, kid. Ain't even really a gift." She sort of chuckles and smiles a bit, rubbing her temple out of habit. "It's really kind of a curse when you can't ever shut it the fuck off."
Ben continues to stare at Brooklyn. "I guess not…." No mirth in his tone at all. Focusing on Ben will get Brooklyn a much clearer picture of the subtext and emotions behind his words. Images of a man and a woman (his parents?), an explosion; its all very jumbled and confusing but the pain and angst behind it is powerful. "Are there more around?"
"I'm not at liberty to say. It's probably that I've already said too much, seeing as there's a war and stuff going on. Not too many folks around here like people like me…and…you? Maybe?" Her face wrinkles up a little bit in the bench a row up as she digs around in his brain a bit, digging up vague, shadowy memories. They aren't at all dissimilar to his, but they're blurry; there's not a detail to be found, just a sense of pain and rage where the memories should be vivid and real. As for family…well, she might have one, but she doesn't know them. Not besides the family she's made out on the streets and on Rykers, that is.
"Hmm…" Ben leans back against his pew. "I'm searching." He keeps his statements simple, but Brook easily reads that indeed he is a mutant and that he's looking for help, training, family, answers, all of the above. As she roots through his mind, the telepath will easily identify him as a lame duck, mentally that is. Something done broke his memories. They are fragmented and disjointedly, healing but slowly and unevenly.
They're like her memories…almost. His are all swiss-cheesed. Hers are just blank and dark before a certain point. "Check out Rykers. You know what that is right? If you're…like me, they'll take you in. It ain't gonna be like the fucking Hilton, and you gotta work for your keep, but at least they won't try to kill you in your sleep." With that…it seems like time for her to 'excuse' herself.
She gets her butt off that bench, revealing that she's really quite tiny. "Time for me to disappear…" she says, not wanting this kid to follow her like a puppy dog or anything. Still focusing on him, she starts to portray the illusion that where she's standing looks just like an empty row; he's given the idea that she's quite literally vanished, even though she stands just feet from him. That gives her the few minutes she needs to sneak around the aisles to the door of the church; of course, she she stops focusing, it breaks, and he might be able to hear or peek and see her leaving.
Ben blinks, sitting up. Because to his perception that's exactly what just happened. Brooklyn disappeared into thin air. "Fekt! How did she do that?" His outbursts get him a few more angry 'ssssssshs' and harsh looks. Confused, Ben looks around for Brooklyn a bit before shrugging and accepting what his mind tells him. "Wow…" he mutters as he pulls his jacket close and heads out of the church. Next stop, Rykers.
