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| Letter from Mal; Static, Open to One or Two Later | |
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| Topic Started: Aug 27 2008, 12:49 PM (467 Views) | |
| Warren Worthington | Aug 27 2008, 12:49 PM Post #1 |
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Time of Day: Morning Place in the timeline: July 15th Warren walked quickly down the main stairway towards the front door, his gaze landing on the pile of the day's mail which someone had already collected from the Gate and left on the side table rather than sorting it. He gave a roll of his and an exasperated sigh, wondering what the point of having the students assigned to these kind of duties were if no one actually did it properly. Picking up the pile of envelopes he moved towards the pigeon holes labelled with the residents of the Mansion, his head bent as he read the names and slipped them into the appropriate section. From a child to a postman in a matter of days, this was really doing his ego some good. He had missed a lot during his time as a six year old, and had found his e-mail Inbox full of messages and an extremely long list of missed calls, text and answers phone messages, all of which had had spent the last few days almost locked in his office returning and dealing with. Attempts to explain his sudden absence had not been well received, especially by his Uncle, who had given him the longest lecture known to man about responsibility and family, mainly how disappointed his father would be and how he had to grow up and take the job seriously 100% of the time, not just when he felt like it. At that point Warren had tried extremely hard not to laugh at the irony of the statement. He had grown down and up very fast over the last week and he wasn't quite sure yet what he had lost or gained in the process. The sound of footsteps caused Warren to glance up from his task, blue eyes taking in a younger blonde woman walking through the entry way. It took him a short moment to identify Callan Michaels, one of the more reclusive members of the Institute. "Hey " He said with a brief smile and a nod. Warren honestly didn't know her very well, despite the fact he knew she had previously attended the Institute and left very suddenly about four years ago, but that was around the time had lost his parents and Candy in quick succession, so he hadn't paid much of the Mansion a lot of attention. "Oh wait, Callan, there was a letter for you... " He said, laying the rest of the mail down and picking up the letter he remembered sorting only moments before. Walking towards her, he handed her the envelope with a smile. "Seems I'm playing postman today." Not wanting to intrude on her privacy, as the hand written nature of the address indicated it was not a bill or junk mail, he crossed back towards the pigeon holes again, resuming his task. |
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| Static | Aug 27 2008, 02:44 PM Post #2 |
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Once again Callan found herself wandering around without a specific goal or destination in mind. Her days generally weren't filled with classes, and so she had quite a bit of free time on her hands. She had already sketched an entire picture and inked a good portion of it this morning. Once her hand began to protest the busy work, Cal left her room and took a brief walk. She would have probably gone to the kitchen for a decently sized snack (hunger was definitely setting in as she hadn't eaten much the previous night), but she was interrupted by a certain winged mutant who was sorting mail. When Callan noticed Warren, she had every intention of ignoring him and letting him take care of his business to avoid a potentially awkward situation that she was in no mood to deal with this morning. Of course, her usual choice of footwear made it rather difficult to sneak around the mansion. He greeted her with a brief "Hey" and a smile, signalling that it was too late for her to avoid him entirely. Yet she didn't feel completely strange thanks to the simple friendliness in his greeting. It wasn't something that Cal could have easily explained, but she did take note of the little details, and she smile Warren offered her wasn't obviously forced. In her world, that was something. "Hi," she replied briefly, offering a sort of half grin that wasn't entirely uncommon. She had only taken another two steps before Warren spoke again. "Oh wait, Callan, there was a letter for you... " A letter? For her? It wasn't very often that Callan received letters of any kind(other than the occasional, disappointing bank statement) as very few people knew where she was, and she didn't have many friends that would be interested in writing her. In the brief time that it took for Warren to approach her with the mystery mail, Callan had thought of a variety of awful messages that could be hidden in the envelope. She had gotten herself into quite a bit of trouble before returning to the mansion. The last thing she wanted was for that trouble to follow her there. . . but only one person knew where she was going- the one person she asked to mail her some things once she found out whether she would be staying or not. Was it from him? "Seems I'm playing postman today." Callan would have found more humor in the statement if her mind hadn't been racing already, wondering what was in the letter. She immediately stared down at it to try to take another guess, but the first thing she noticed was the lack of a return address. Damn. Looking back up at Warren, she offered another subtle grin before saying, "Thanks." When Warren turned away and resumed his task, Callan's attention returned quickly to the letter in her hands. The written address was not in a style that she could put to a name, but it didn't scream "scumbag looking for money". Then she looked at the stamp to see that it had definitely come from Boston, though she wasn't sure exactly what part of it. She wasn't a student of zip codes. Finally tearing it open, she unfolded the enclosed piece of paper quickly and began reading. Don't rip this up before reading it, Cal. I wouldn't write to you if I didn't have something really important to tell you. Mal. That piece of crap that she used to call her "big brother". He was the first person to ever call her Cal (the only one 'til she reached high school), and the last time they spoke she told him never to call her or write to her ever again. She didn't want to speak to him, she didn't want to see him, she wanted nothing to do with him. He wasn't her brother anymore. When he had his chance to prove that he was worthy of the title, he blew it big time. The one time Callan really needed him, he just sat back and watched as her parents sent her away against her will. He never tried to stop them. He never even tried to console her until it was too late. As far as she was concerned, she never had a brother. Dropping her hands to her sides, Callan took a moment to weigh the options: throw the thing away now, or read what the pompous ass had to say. She didn't want to think about Mal anymore. It had taken years to convince herself that she wanted to be free of him, of her entire family. She didn't want to revisit the guilt in her choice to lose contact with them. It was much easier to be angry with them, to hate them. Even seeing Mal after four years was enough to make her leave Boston for a week (she still wasn't completely sure that he hadn't recognized her). But what if he really did have something important to tell her? It had to be something worth reading if he was dumb enough to waste his time writing about it, right? How could he have even been sure that it would get to her? Sending it to the school was a long shot, and he didn't put a return address on the envelope. Eventually her curiosity was too much to handle. She gave in, and raised the letter once more to see what Mal had to say. We need you, all of us. If there's even the slightest possibility that you could forgive us, please come home. This morning something awful happened. Mom was on her way to work and she got into a car accident. It was bad, Cal. Really bad. I'm not a doctor, but I don't need to be to understand what's coming next. . . She doesn't have a lot of time left, Cally. Now that wasn't something she expected. Nope, that one never crossed her mind. The idea just seemed completely unreal to her. As a 23-year-old, she wasn't thinking about losing one of her parents. As far as she knew, three of her grandparents were still alive. Both of her parents were in their mid-fifties. They had always been healthy enough, neither of them smoked, and they definitely didn't put themselves in risky situations. How could something like this happen? Nothing like this ever happened in her family. Callan hadn't even been to a funeral since she was five. . . a funeral. No, it couldn't come to that. Her mother couldn't just die. Suddenly Cal felt the tears building. She was trying really hard to hate the woman, but this was all just too much to handle. It was way too sudden, too unexpected, too complicated. She had no idea what to do, or even if there was anything she could do. Then she thought of something: What if she was too late? Trying to hold back the tears and disguise the panic in her voice, Cal struggled to ask, "Do you know how long it usually takes for mail to make it here from Boston?" |
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| Warren Worthington | Aug 31 2008, 12:43 PM Post #3 |
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Looking back up at Warren, she offered another subtle grin before saying, "Thanks." “No problem.” Warren gave a brief smile, noting the apparent look of discomfort on her face as she held the letter. He might have paused and asked if she was okay, but she didn’t seem to welcome his presence, and she clearly had a private letter to read, and so he moved away, back to sorting through envelopes. Despite not wanting to intrude, he did shot a few subtle glances towards the younger woman as she stood for a while, looking as though she was contemplating whether to open the letter or not. She was clearly not expecting good news. Shifting his weight slightly to one side, Warren went a little more quickly about his task, feeling as though perhaps he should give her some privacy but if she wanted it that badly surely she would have carried on walking to somewhere quieter. There was usually a fairly constant flow of people through the entry way, though at the moment it was quiet, with only the sounds of people in other rooms passing through. The sound of a tear filled voice broke the silence just as he was relinquishing the last envelope, and Warren looked up in concern, towards Callan. He walked towards her, wondering what could have happened to so obviously upset her as he took in the tears in her eyes. For a woman who seemed to be so in control and reserved the majority of the time, he was surprised to see her so openly showing her emotion, especially to him, whom she didn’t know every well. “I don’t know. It varies, maybe a day or two? It would depend on the class of the stamp. Is there a date?” He asked, his voice pitched low, just for her to hear so that unwanted attention wasn’t attracted if anyone passed through. “It’s bad news I take it?” Warren added, feeling concerned for Callan, and deciding it was better she didn’t face whatever was upsetting her, alone. “Is there anything I can help you with?” |
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| Static | Aug 31 2008, 09:38 PM Post #4 |
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“I don’t know. It varies, maybe a day or two? It would depend on the class of the stamp. Is there a date?” As Warren approached her, answering her question as well as he could, Callan looked at the envelope in her hand once more. The stamp was decorated with an American flag and the statue of liberty. On the left side of it there was small, white text that read "1st". Mal could have sent the letter the previous day. . . he also could have sent it three days ago, having written it the previous night. There was no way to be sure. "No date," she replied, sounding slightly more irritated by the fact than saddened by it. Giving the letter another check, she commented, "My brother, Mal, is the smartest idiot I've ever met." It sounded like a contradictory statement, but it was entirely true. Mal was a smart guy in most senses, as his assent on the corporate ladder suggested. However, he wasn't perfect by any means. Callan would never seriously claim that she was any better than him overall (anyone could see that her situation was far less desireable than his, and neither of them had their lives handed to them on a silver platter). Still, she was always searching for a reason to despise him. Even now, as her conflicting emotions were being brought to the front of her mind, she was trying to choose anger. She wanted to hate Mal, not sympathize with him or mourn his absence in her life. “It’s bad news I take it?” Callan didn't even know how to explain it. . . or even if she should bother trying. No matter how hard she tried to will away the tears that were building in her eyes, she couldn't do much more than make sure that they didn't make it far enough to fall down her face. So far she thought she had done a decent job of hiding her fear, anger, desperation, confusion . . . but Warren wouldn't have mentioned that if she had been as cool as she wanted to be. Now she was certain that she looked almost as puzzled as she felt. Who was she trying to fool now? "Yeah," was all she could manage to say. She couldn't even look at him. Her eyes just stared down at the envelope. There was more to the letter, but she wasn't sure she wanted to read the rest of it. "Is there anything I can help you with?” Now Callan just felt stupid. Why hadn't she just taken the letter to her room? It was too late now. She'd already embarrassed herself in front of Warren, who was clearly seeing right through her poorly constructed facade. Suddenly the sorrow that had been building relentlessly within her became anger. At least she understood anger. . . she didn't feel vulnerable when she was angry. If her family wanted anything from her, they shouldn't have sent her away. Her father shouldn't have demanded that she go to Xavier's. Her mother shouldn't have let him make the decision alone, and her darling brother should have stood up for his little sister instead of just watching the whole mess unfold. They weren't a family anymore. She was scared as hell when she discovered her powers, and they didn't do a damn thing to comfort her when she needed them. The tears in her eyes began to dry as her expression slowly transformed into something more neutral (yet even Callan's "relaxed" face looked rather pissed off). Her tone kept it's underlying irritation, but her words came easier now that her emotions weren't trying to choke her. She dropped the letter and it's envelope down to her side again, gripping them tightly as if she wanted to inflict pain to punish them for their message. "I really don't think so," Callan replied dryly as she finally looked into Warren's eyes. "I'm not sure there's even a problem to fix anymore." Should she explain herself? The words even sounded like riddles to her ears. Warren had no idea what she was talking about. Callan didn't want to burden him with her idiotic problems, but she knew that she was already making an awful impression on him. Was it better to leave him in the dark, or would a little summary of her issues make them both feel better about the awkward situation? Damnit. . . why hadn't she just kept her mouth shut in the first place? ((It's tough for me to explain her emotions right now. I'd try to be more clear about it, but I don't want to write a boring novel for you to read. Hopefully you have enough to work with. I can edit this if you need more.)) |
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| Warren Worthington | Sep 10 2008, 11:59 PM Post #5 |
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Giving the letter another check, she commented, "My brother, Mal, is the smartest idiot I've ever met." Warren raised his eyebrows slightly, mildly surprised that she had given him even that much. It still didn’t give him much to go on though, other than the fact it was probably a family issue. He knew all about those, with his family life less than desirable, though others rarely saw that. His family were rich and therefore without problems, as though money was really the only thing that mattered. Perhaps he was the cliche rich kid, but it didn't mean the issues from his childhood didn't still dog him, the untimely deaths of his parents not helping with his unresolved issues. Static's expression began to change, hardening with apparent effort, the tears fading away, though he couldn’t tell fully as she was mostly avoiding eye contact with him. She replied, and Warren nodded silently, meeting Callan’s eyes steadily as she finally looked at him. Clearly she was caught between wanting to talk and not being entirely comfortable with the idea of discussing her problems. Warren could understand that, he rarely liked talking about the things in his past that has hurt him. He wasn’t going to push Callan. If she didn’t feel like talking about it to him, then that was fine, but he thought it might help her. Sometimes not really knowing the person you were talking to was helpful. “Why don’t you tell me a little bit about what’s going on. It might help you decide if there is a problem, and how it can be fixed. I know that we don’t know each other very well, and if you tell me to go away and mind my own business, then I will do that but if you want to talk, then I’m here and I’ll listen.” He paused, and gave her a small smile. “May not seem like it, but I do know a little bit about bad news, and how hard it can be to let other people in.” That was something he had always struggled with, one of the reasons why he had never been comfortable with telepathy in the way Scott was. |
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| Static | Sep 11 2008, 12:38 AM Post #6 |
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“Why don’t you tell me a little bit about what’s going on. It might help you decide if there is a problem, and how it can be fixed. I know that we don’t know each other very well, and if you tell me to go away and mind my own business, then I will do that but if you want to talk, then I’m here and I’ll listen.” Callan found it intensely strange that the words that came out of Warren's mouth seemed like the text book definition of what was right to say. Even when she was sure that she knew what the right thing to say was, it took some serious effort for her to make it come out correctly. Warren's statements were spoken with an easy concern that made her feel like he was being completely honest with her. That was a notable talent in Callan's book. Perhaps she hadn't completely embarrassed herself after all. Could it be that Warren actually wanted to help her? Then he smiled. It was a brief, simple smile, but one that was warm regardless. Either this guy was a talent worthy of every award in existence, or he was just way nicer than what Callan expected. It wasn't that he had a poor reputation attached to him (he most certainly did not), but Cal had a very specific idea about how men typically treated her and what to expect. . . and there was always a noticable divide between her and the older X-men. She looked up to them when she was first learning to control her powers, and even now she admired them not only for their position in the school, but also for their individual strengths. They always seemed like authority figures of some sort, or simply "big kids" that she had little in common with. It was hard to let go of the feeling that they were so different that she would never really get to know them. She never would have imagined Warren taking an interest in her problems. “May not seem like it, but I do know a little bit about bad news, and how hard it can be to let other people in.” Maybe Warren really could help her. It was true that Callan was afraid to open up to anyone. She didn't want to worry about what other people thought about her, and she had been really concerned about that for a while now. Her high expectations for herself made it terribly difficult for her to imagine other people being completely indifferent about what she was doing. It was hard enough for her to please herself without thinking that every vague whisper around her was full of criticism. At least if she kept everyone at a reasonable distance their opinions wouldn't matter too much. At least if she kept some things secret people couldn't use them against her. Callan knew that she couldn't take too long to think about this. Either she had to tell him now or keep it to herself for a long while. Her expression turned to one of deep thought as she looked away for another brief moment. Hell, here she was with someone who actually seemed to want to genuinely help her out. She couldn't just turn down kindness like this and expect people to warm up to her eventually. Rather than continuing to weigh the options until she was completely confident, Cal just let it out. "My mom was in a car accident. . . I guess it was really bad," she said softly, with a strangely calm tone. Looking at the letter again as if she didn't know what the first part said, she added, "My brother wants me to go back to Boston, but . . . I'm not sure if I can." Saying it out loud brought the situation to a whole new level of reality. Her mother was probably going to die if she wasn't already dead. Mal had actually asked her to come home, and she was seriously considering ignoring his request. It all just seemed bizarre, and Cal's opinion of what was abnormal had been significantly altered during her most recent stay at the mansion. This was far more typical than mind control and people with tails, but Callan prefered the strange, occasionally shocking physical mutations. "The hesitation makes me look like a complete ass, doesn't it?" Callan asked bluntly with an unsure, half-grin flashing across her face. Such a question could be seen as an attempt to lighten the mood, but she was pretty damn sure that she did, in fact, come off as a heartless witch for even considering ignoring her family at such a time. Most people put their families first, and would never leave them alone during a tragedy. Could she even justify her situation? Feeling like she needed to explain herself, Callan tried to add something, "I just. . . I don't know." She couldn't even begin to tell Warren what the hell she was thinking without some major thought organization. It would probably take a miracle for her to be able to make sense of it and sound like a decent person regardless of her preference to remain insensitive to the whole thing. |
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| Warren Worthington | Sep 18 2008, 10:17 PM Post #7 |
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Warren could almost see her deliberating whether to trust him or not as she turned away from him. He didn't need to be a telepath to sense her reluctance and he was going to push her, instead he just waited quietly until she decided whether to speak or not. There wasn't really much else he could say or do to make her feel more comfortable at this point. While he could usually get by with listening and trying to sort people's problems out, he didn't have the ability of someone like Jean, who's job it was to deal with situations like this and was there for far more highly qualified and experienced than Warren would ever be. He just had to act on intuition and hope he didn't mess up. When Callan finally let it out, Warren nodded in sympathetic understanding. The fact that she wasn't already rushing to find a way back home either meant that she was still in shock or there was something keeping her from wanting to go home, even with her mother's accident. The blonde woman's next words pretty much confirmed that it was the latter. Warren was more than well acquainted with difficult family relationships, having had a strained one with his parents as in addition to watching the parents of many of the children at the school react when they found out their child was a mutant. He didn't think there were many people at the Mansion who had a healthy relationship with their parents, which was a deep shame, though Warren had never been under the illusion that parents would love their children no matter what. They should, but that was rarely the case in his experience. Cynical perhaps, but that was generally his view towards most family related issues. "The hesitation makes me look like a complete ass, doesn't it? I just. . . I don't know." "Not at all." Warren said with a slight shake of his head, watching her for a brief moment as she tried to smile at the situation. "Shall we..." He began, indicating that they move out of the main part of the hallway and nearer to the wall, so their conversation was more private, though these things weren't often in the Mansion with telepaths and those with enhanced hearing. Warren looked down at Callan, trying to judge how to continue. He had a similar story he could share with her, but whether it was a good or not was another matter. After a brief deliberation, he decided it could be of some help. "I'm very sorry to hear about your mom, Callan but I can understand that relationships with family are rarely clear cut. It doesn't make you look bad if you don't rush to her side immediately. I'm sure you have your reasons" He took a breath, glancing to the side and then back at her. "Listen, I don’t know about the situation with your family but perhaps I can offer you some advice. I was in a similar situation myself.” “I never had a good relationship with either of my parents and it only got worse after my wings grew. My father died very suddenly, but with my mother, I had a small amount of warning, a day or so, nothing much, but it was enough, I suppose.” His tone of voice was very matter of fact, keeping steady eye contact with Static. He was doing this to help her out, not indulge in self pity. “I won’t deny that when I first found out, I wondered if I could go, if I should go. But I did because I knew in the end she needed me and if I didn’t I would always regret it. I know it’s not exactly the same, but, I don’t know, maybe it will help. Take the time to really think about it, and consider what you’d be giving up if you didn’t go.” |
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| Static | Sep 20 2008, 10:38 PM Post #8 |
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"Not at all." No? Callan wasn't sure what to make of this situation. She would have almost rather had Warren treat her like the insensitive jerk she thought she appeared to be. She still hadn't decided if she believed she was, in her own opinion, an insensitive jerk, and his kind treatment didn't help her as she had nearly decided that she was. Her expression quickly returned to one of confusion. She couldn't manage anger or sadness now. There were just too many unexpected things happening and words being said. For an analytical mind like Cal's, this was serious information overload. Yet it seemed unlikely that anything that occurred next would be easy for her to comprehend and accept, regardless of whether or not it was expected. Her mind was racing. The main questions- What do I want, how can I get it, and why me? It was only a matter of time before everything would become too much to handle. Nothing was making any sense. She followed Warren mindlessly as he suggested that they carry on their conversation in a slightly more private area. The more she thought about things, the more she started to feel like her body was on auto-pilot. Still clutching the letter furiously, she crossed her arms and leaned up against the wall. As Cal listened to the beginning of Warren's short speech, she found herself looking away, only allowing herself to look into his eyes for a few seconds at a time. Then she started to realize how lucky she was that someone like him was so eager to help her. When he began telling her about his own parents, she kept her eyes fixed on his. She wanted him to know that she was listening, that she appreciated what he was saying and wanted to hear it. But as he calmly explained his own experiences, she started to feel intense guilt. Both of his parents had been taken from him, and here she was considering throwing away the chance to settle things with both of her parents while one was probably dying. Warren didn't even get a chance to work things out with his father, and he only had a short time with his mother. How unfair was it that he had been put in that situation and she had discarded her own parents like they were nothing to her? Still, Cal wasn't sure if she was strong enough to take his advice and be more grateful for her situation. There was a good chance that she'd decide to hate her parents instead within the next minute. Was all of this trouble worth it? Even if they made the effort to be a family again, would they be able to? Cal was still a mutant, and they were still human. She was a completely different person now, possibly more different than whichever family members remained could accept. Would it be better for her to let herself and her family continue on as they had for the last five years? Knowing that she had to say something to acknowledge Warren's words, Cal offered him a smile that was obviously forced and said, "Thank you, Warren." What else could she say? She knew that saying she was sorry for him would be stupid. She didn't want to get into his situation more than he wanted her to. They barely knew each other, and dead parents weren't exactly fun ice-breaking topics. Wanting to show that she appreciated his attempt to help her, Cal decided that the best way to do that would be to open up to him a little more. She didn't want to burden him with her problems, especially if he thought they were a bit ridiculous (after all, Cal knew that she was responsible for many of them), but leaving him in the dark when he just shared that personal information with her seemed wrong. "I'm scared of them. . . of what they think of me. I haven't spoken to my family in five years. Not a word," she explained with her eyes focused on the floor," I've spent a lot of that time learning to hate them. I'm not sure if I want to let go of that. Part of me feels like it's just wrong to hate my family regardless of what they've done, but when I start to think that I need to forgive them I get angry again. Hateful." It was a surprisingly articulate explanation. It made a lot more sense than she thought it would. Five years of learning how to cope, and now it seemed that everything was going to change. Cal felt that she was making enough changes in her life. She didn't want her family situation to be added to the list. She thought she was finally done with them. She thought she was finally okay without their approval or support, at least close enough to okay, and all it took was one letter to throw her off. Then the feeling of embarassment came to her again as she stared at the floor. This vulnerability wasn't something she was used to. It felt wrong. . . not that she was sure what was wrong and what was right at this point. "I'm sorry," she said quickly as she shook her head lightly and looked back to Warren. "You don't need to worry about this stuff. I can handle it. It's no one's problem but my own. I'm just a bit surprised, you know?" Dropping her arms back down to her sides, Cal tried to ease her death grip on the letter. Her fingers were cold and starting to ache, but that was the least of her problems. At least her expression was looking more relaxed, less panicky. Sure, her mind was still computing at the speed of light, but at a quick glance no one would see that she felt like she had just been hit by a train. |
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| Warren Worthington | Sep 29 2008, 05:43 PM Post #9 |
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"Thank you, Warren." Warren nodded, and returned her smile, his showing no sign of being forced. "No worries." He replied, waiting to see which way she wanted to go with this, whether she wanted to stay and discuss it more, or leave and be alone with her own thoughts to make a decision. Either way he was fine with, though it seemed as though she still might need someone to help her, but it was a tricky situation in general and knowing what was needed was never easy. She chose to open up to him any way, which he was a little surprised about, but none the less glad that she felt she could talk to him although she still remained obviously uncomfortable and he wondered briefly if he should just give her an out, so she didn't feel that she had to keep talking to him. Her confession was quickly followed by an apology and Warren shook his head. "There's no need to apologise Callan, whatever I can do to help, I will. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable about talking to me about this. Everyone need someone to listen sometimes, as strange as it might feel to open up." He paused briefly, letting that sink in, before he addressed the matter at hand. "As for what you said before... I can understand it's hard to forgive sometimes, very hard. But... as cliché as it might sound, I've found that life is far too short and fragile for lasting grudges, especially with family. Of course, I don't know what they've done to you, whether it's beyond forgiveness but obviously by contacting you, they or at least your brother, is willing to extend an olive branch so to speak, he's obviously looking for a way to reconnect. it seems as though you wouldn't be losing anything, and possibly gaining a lot, if you accepted that and went to see them." His blue eyes flickered over her features, wondering if had gone too far, said too much. |
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| Static | Sep 29 2008, 09:00 PM Post #10 |
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"There's no need to apologise Callan, whatever I can do to help, I will. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable about talking to me about this. Everyone needs someone to listen sometimes, as strange as it might feel to open up." If Cal found out she was a fool for being confused by Warren's kindness, it wouldn't have surprised her. She considered herself a student of behavior, and she understood it fairly well, but putting her behavioral theories into practice with her own actions was a bit intimidating. Although her beliefs seemed to apply with everyone else, they never seemed to be quite right in situations that involved her. She believed that some people were just very kind-hearted, but most of those people were rather naive. They trusted everyone, were kind to everyone, even the wrong people. Warren seemed to be both incredibly altruistic and rather wise. How could someone who had seen the scum of the earth running rampant so many times still be so willing to at least pretend that they cared so much about someone they barely knew? . . . Perhaps she was just too disenchanted with people at the moment. As Warren continued, Callan found it difficult to look at him when he was speaking to her. She wasn't intimidated by him, and she certainly didn't disagree with anything he said, but she couldn't get over her embarassment. These problems were very real to her, but the logical part of her brain just screamed "idiot!" at her whenever she considered the facts. "People make mistakes" didn't seem to satisfy her enough. Appologies didn't earn real forgiveness in this case, they rarely did anyway, and even Mal's attempt at making the first step toward reconciliation didn't please her. It just didn't feel right. Cal wasn't sure if that was because she really believed they were wrong or if she was just too much of a coward to move forward. When Warren had finished, she managed to look up at him again. She had processed everything he had said, and it made perfect sense to her as much as she hated to think that it may have been necessary for her to make nice with her family. . . whatever was left of it. Yet when this advice came from Warren it didn't feel as terrible as it had coming from other people, even from herself on many occasions. This guy had a serious gift, and it wasn't just the wings. Even the way he looked at her. . . he didn't look like he was accusing her of something. He didn't look at her as if she was some ignorant child or just a random person that meant nothing to him. Cal really felt like he cared about what was going on with her, even though he had no reason to. Not really knowing what to say, Cal just let some of the nonsense that was running a marathon through her mind get out. " Are you this nice to everyone you meet, or have I just caught you at a good time? If you keep treating me like this, I'm going to feel obligated to be just as nice to you, and I don't know how well that will go." It came out sounding a little more humorous than intended, but it was starting to look like things couldn't get much more awkward. What could she say to make herself look like more of a mess? Here she was looking all vulnerable and silly in front of a guy who basically seemed indestructable to her since she first came to the mansion six years ago. Warren was one of the first students. She knew that even people like him and Scott, Jean and the Professor had their own problems, but it was hard to remember that sometimes. They always just seemed like they could handle anything, like they always knew what to do and when to do it. Of course Cal wasn't about to make herself sound like a teenage fan girl by mentioning it, but it was definitely on her mind. She almost moved to cross her arms again as if it would protect her or something, but she resisted. That would just make her look like she was bored or just reveal how completely out of place she felt. That just didn't seem like a nice thing to put into Warren's mind. It may have been how she honestly felt, but she dind't want to make him think that was his fault. He couldn't have said anything more perfect or been any more comforting to her. It wasn't his fault she was so ridiculous. The least she could do was make it look like his efforts were appreciated and working. . .which they were. . . just a bit more slowly than they would with any intelligent person. |
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| Warren Worthington | Oct 18 2008, 08:25 PM Post #11 |
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" Are you this nice to everyone you meet, or have I just caught you at a good time? If you keep treating me like this, I'm going to feel obligated to be just as nice to you, and I don't know how well that will go." Warren raised is eyebrows at her, an amused smile touching his lips at her words. They were a little strange, he wasn't going to deny that but clearly Callan was a young woman who wasn't especially well acquainted with people taking the time to help her out. Either that or she just had a hard time accepting it for whatever reason. It didn't make him feel sorry for her exactly, because he doubted she would appreciate pity, but something close to it. Personally he thought it was hard to deal with life if you didn't have at least one person to listen when you needed it. For along his pushing people away, he knew he had people who would he could talk to if needs be. Scott, Jean, Hank, even Ari, though he wouldn't chose to trouble her with issues now they were no longer together. "You just got me on a good day." Warren confirmed jokingly, giving her a wink. "Normally I'm as grumpy as Logan." He tilted his head slightly to the side as he looked at her. "Would it really be so terrible if you had to be nice to me. I know it must be hard." Giving her a quick grin to show that he was just messing around, Warren slipped back into a more serious tone once more. "Seriously though Callan, feel free to come and talk to about anything that's bothering you." Hesitating he flicked a quick glance at his watch and grimaced lightly. "Although, I do have a class in about five minutes, but come and find me afterwards if you need to talk about this further. Sorry to run off like this." Warren said, with an apologetic smile, turning towards the main staircase. "I hope things are a little clearer for you now." He added before heading up towards the classrooms, feeling guilty about leaving her so suddenly but hoping she'd feel okay about coming to him in the future. [align=center][EXIT WARREN][/align] |
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2:50 PM Jul 11