thearena | [ semi-open ]

Who| Charles & Sandy; see note.
What| Charles is being a silly telepath.
Where| Main street.
When| back dated towards the end of Hell-rena.
Warnings/Notes| Well, it's Hell-rena. So that's bad. Also, it's Semi-open. If you'd like to tag, I'd be happy to give a separate/additional prompt. Just let me know!

Charles is spending time moving through the main street. He's keeping his feet fast, his fingers against his temple, so he focuses and stays in tune with the others around him. It helps him duck in between what is left of buildings and stay out of the line of sight of others. So far, this week has been a series of events like that. When his abilities came back in a burst, it was like a flood of thoughts, fear, and feelings. Since had lived with it for so long, he was able to recuperate fast.

He's found so many opportunities to help people since his telepathy had returned, too. People here had been generally good to him, and although he knew not all people were, but he wasn't about to sentence anyone to death just because there was a chance they could be bad.

Charles ducks close to a wall of the dilapidated building. He is waiting to see if there are any individuals that he thinks might need his help. Before long, though, he makes his move, to the next building. He never keeps himself in a single spot for long. It was too dangerous with the creatures out now.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Sandy had been wary of hiding out in other buildings, but with the world gone to hell outside and Shepard unleashing her powers it was safer to find some place to lay low while her temporary guardian was out playing the game.

She'd kept her skin stone despite concerns about another house caving in on her and at the moment was sitting on the floor just under a window and behind a moldy old sofa.

When Charles came in she snatched at her wood chopping Axe and held it close. Her muscles were wound tight and she tried to hold her breath in case he might have some kind of superior hearing.

All the while in her head she was stuck on the same two words Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap!

Charles recognized her voice. He had spoken to her in his first days here, even though he hadn't caught her name. Those series of thoughts coming to her mind, though, he had to make sure she knew that she was safe with him. He had no intention of hurting her, after all.

It's just me, he offered. He hoped she would recognize his voice. She seemed to find him familiar in their first conversation. He stopped in the entrance of the house, and then made his approach towards her slow.

He wanted to give her the opportunity to decide to continue speaking with him, or make a run for it. It wasn't as though he'd go after her.

There was a thud as the shock of having someone speak in her mind startled Sandy enough that she sat up too sharply and her stone hand hit the floor. She managed to keep from crying out but in her head.

Oh god that's freaky! That's...it's like hearing you but not and I...just you...wait, who you? She was scrambled with surprise and a clear discomfort at the sensation. Probably not the first person to feel that way. A surge of anxiety and paranoia washed over her as she sat very still as if that would help.

I am Charles, he answered. She was the girl who asked him if he was a superhero. The thought amused him, really. He never would have thought of himself that way. She was not the first person to become startled by what he had done, and not the first person to tell him that. He was quite used to this reaction. But for him, it was the best way to approach without getting himself murdered.

His tone got a little amused, I spoke to you before. When I first arrived. He slowed his pace as he approached her.

You did? The memory sprang into place and she relaxed a bit more.

Oh right, I saw your post and...OK...alright but how are you in my head?

The stairs loomed before him now, dark and ominous. But she was on the second floor of the house and if he wanted a face to face the creaky, rotting wooden stairs were his way of finding her.

He started up the stairs. His pace slow, and sure to give her opportunists to leave before he got there. I am a telepath. A mutant, I suppose. They had talked only a little about it, so if she wanted to know more, he would be glad to share. But she was also young, and he knew not everyone wanted an explanation as to what, exactly, he was.

There was an audible gasp and she clasped her hands over her mouth to keep from speaking out loud.

Of course! You're from a world like mine, and mutants had powers like that. Like me and my dad. Mutants were run out of the city or locked up along with all the other super powered citizens. More flashes of memory as Sandy strained to recall hearing these things from a teacher or idly reading them in a history book in a class full of children her age. The words the book had used were "Dangerous criminals" and "Rebels" but Sandy clearly didn't agree.

[ semi-open ]

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