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helpdesk_heroAll Memories are in separate comments below, starting with any relevant content warnings. These are written out as the whole of the scene as it plays out, to provide an overview and what people can interact with. You can choose to watch the whole thing in silence with David as he looks increasingly agitated over it, or interact around the scene, reacting to parts and engaging David. If you'd like to have me write the stuff out in the pace of the tags themselves, just let me know.
1. Waiting For You To Wake | Familial/Platonic Relationship | CW: Depression; Insanity; Restraints; Discussion of Murdered Children, Racial Persecution, and Terrorism.>
Here
2. This Is Where I Belong | Romantic Relationship Ending | CW: Violence, Referenced Character Death, Referenced Genocide
Here
3. Kiss At The End Of It All | 'Romantic' Relationship | CW: Fear of Death
Here
4. A Way Humans Like To Celebrate | Romantic Relationship | CW: Referenced Child Death (though it's sorta a metaphor but also kinda not)
Here
1. Waiting For You To Wake | Familial/Platonic Relationship | CW: Depression; Insanity; Restraints; Discussion of Murdered Children, Racial Persecution, and Terrorism.>
Here
2. This Is Where I Belong | Romantic Relationship Ending | CW: Violence, Referenced Character Death, Referenced Genocide
Here
3. Kiss At The End Of It All | 'Romantic' Relationship | CW: Fear of Death
Here
4. A Way Humans Like To Celebrate | Romantic Relationship | CW: Referenced Child Death (though it's sorta a metaphor but also kinda not)
Here
Waiting For You To Wake
12/2/21 17:53 (UTC)[Related Comics Page]
It starts in a room. A room with walls that are covered with pale blue tile from the mid-point of the wall down, and the sort of paint that is a nondescript shade of blue clearly marketed as 'easy to clean'. The space has that too-clean, antiseptic smell accented with clean sheets and cool metals. Makes sense seeing as most of the room is dominated by a large, exceedingly comfortable looking hospital bed. Definitely wider than the standard, longer too. It's not made for the standard person, but rather so that the non-standard could fit. A full metal frame, reinforced, all the better to keep the current occupant strapped down to it.
And what an occupant it is. A young man with onyx black skin, pale blonde hair, and solid white eyes. He thrashes against the leather restraints at his wrists that bind him to the bed. His legs are free, but that doesn't do him any good as he struggles and screams. There's no pain in the noise. At least, not the physical sort. Just anguish. Emotional and mental anguish. The screams and shouts of someone who has lost and cannot come to rights with it. Someone grieving.
He's not the only one in the room. There's also David, or what has to be David but younger. His glasses are just that, glasses, and he looks tired. His hair is buzzed short, his clothes rumpled, his whole body sagging with fatigue and grief. A close inspection might even pick up that one of his cheeks is a bit swollen. There's dirt and dust on his face, smudged by tear tracks. This younger David sits in the chair, leaning forward, elbows braced on knees while his chin rested on his folded hands.
"Josh," he speaks up. He's younger, but the deep rumble of his voice is already there. It could clearly be low and soothing, but it's filled with emotion, with grief that perhaps echoed that of the teen tied to the bed.
"Josh, I need you to wake up. I knows it's bad, I know this is all bad. You let your powers do something that wasn't natural. We're all hurting right now, but..."
David's hands clench together tighter, his knuckles going pale with how tightly he's clenching them.
"I need you, Josh. I'm losing everyone, and I'm scared. Jay's dead. Laurie's dead. Sofia's left. And Nori-"
The young man's head lifts a bit to look out through the windows into the room. There's no one there. The onyx-skinned teen hasn't gone still, he's still crying out in grief and pain.
"I need my friend right now, my brother. Without you, it all seems impossible."
With that the young David breathes a sigh. His hands slowly unfold, and he straightens. For a moment Josh stills, goes silent. Almost as if he's listening. And then the shouting continues. Young David's shoulders sag as he sighs, and then he limps out of the room, leaving Josh behind.
This Is Where I Belong
12/2/21 18:25 (UTC)[Related Comics Panels 1, 2, 3, 4]
The room is dark, lit from only two sources. The layout says a nice dorm room, two single beds, two desks and chairs, two dressers. There are posters of bands and Japanese pop culture around one bed in particular, one with a teen girl on it. She was lit from two angles: one the moonlight pouring through the window, the other light from the hall.
The young woman has a definite fashion aesthetic going on. Her hair is vibrant blue, her shirt a yellow, sleeveless, baring her stomach, her pants thick and baggy with too many pockets. Oh, and then there was the most obvious thing about her: the large, metal gauntlets covering her hands all the way up and over her elbows. She's on the bed with her legs pulled up toward her chest, her arms braced against them, and she's crying, quietly.
In the door, framed by the light of the hall, is David. He's... dressed better. His glasses are big and almost bug-eyed, black so that his eyes can't been seen through them. The clearly teen David wore a form-fitting black and yellow body suit, a large red and black X marking the belt, and large, frankly hideous, large yellow bracers covering his arms from wrist to just short of the elbow. He has a fashion statement, and that statement is disaster. He stands there, impassive, watching the young woman, who hasn't noticed him just yet.
"I'm staying, Nori."
Nori looks up, confusion and grief and anger, clearly not expecting his presence. Her brows furrow as she looks at him, at what he's wearing. "David?"
"Prodigy," he corrects, his voice firm, "My name is Prodigy, and if this is the end of mutantkind... I stand with the Institute. This is my home. This is where I belong. You don't get to make that decision for me."
That clearly didn't please Nori, because she was off the bed in a second, moving toward David with a finger outstretched, pointing at him as she shouted.
"NO! You're going to die if you stay here. And I can't let that happen. Do you hear me?"
She kept going forward, even as he did, and they met in the middle of the room. Her gauntlet covered hands come up and shove at David's chest, trying to shove him back.
"What Do I have to do to get you to leave? Throw you out? Tell Me!" Her shouts grow sharper, edged with desperation. "I don't want you here! I don't love you! LEAVE!"
The force of her push, even as she got in his face, pushed him back, hard. He moves smoothly, foot sliding back to catch himself, a motion that obviously came from combat training. His balance was clearly not thrown off. There is control in this situation, and right now, it's in David. But still she keeps shouting, even as she pulls her arm back, hand forming a fist. Electricity sparks around it, jumping and dancing, the air starting to smell of ozone.
"You're powerless! You're useless! I love Julian! What do I have to say to make you understand?!"
The fist flies forward, thrusting with clear practice and skill. She's aiming right for his chin, clearly going to make it. Except his hand comes up, catches her fist in his palm. Still David is calm, collected, in control. He moves quickly, easily, gracefully, stepping to the side and forward and twisting around Nori until he has the arm she attempted to strike with up behind her back, held carefully just short of the point of pain even as his other arm wraps around in front of her, holding her against any struggle she might make. An experienced eye would know there is no intent to hurt here, even as she grits her teeth and tries to pull away.
"I understand more than you know," David spoke, his voice low, a whisper.
"David?"
"HEY!"
Inexperienced eyes are upon them now. A figure in the doorway, a dark haired young man in a heavy coat, and his eyes glow with green light. Nori's free hand reaches out, as if to placate, even as she curses.
"oh, Dammit..."
David should have closed the door because the guy steps in and more light comes into the room in the form of green energy radiating out from him, rising up from the floor under David, slamming him to the air and throwing furniture around as Nori flinches backwards.
"Get away from her!" the newcomer roars in anger.
David hits the ceiling, slams back down to the ground as the dark haired teen looks to Nori.
"Did he hurt you?"
"Are you insane, Julian?" she demands, hands over her as she straightens. "It's David! He woudln't-"
There's no chance for either of them to hear the end of that statement, because neither of them noticed David getting up as Julian made his way to Nori. He left his back open, and David's on his feet. The winner of many fights has ended up being the one who got back up the most. David moves with speed and sharpness, the blade of his hand striking the back of Julian's neck to send him stumbling forward a step with a pained groan. Nor does David stop there. Another blow comes, this with the heel of his hand, right into the the side of Julian's back. This brings a loud cracking sound and a louder cry of pain as Julian goes down toward his knees, just in time for David's elbow strikes his cheek. Julian bites through his lip and spits out blood as he moans in pain.
Ultimately Julian ends up on his hands and knees, and David just stands there, not advancing, not retreating. The power Julian had displayed earlier was clearly still available, but there was no fear, no doubt. Just David in the middle of the room, Julian glaring with grit teeth, and Nori waiting by the window.
"Israeli Special Forces training," David informs them both, his voice cold and dispassionate. "Wolverine and Shadowcat know it, and now I do too. There are three parts of the body that are essentially unbreakable. I just used all three on you."
Through pain and a split lip, Julian manages to moan out the words, "Didn't... kiss her..."
"I know that, Julian," David tells them both, and there is perhaps a touch of a sad sigh to his voice. "You should go see Josh for your ribs."
Only then does David start moving out of the room. When he's out in the full light of the hall he throws back a few final words before turning and walking away.
"By the way, Nori? We're through."
Kiss At The End Of It All
12/2/21 18:26 (UTC)[Relevant Comics Pages 1, 2, 3]
White. Everywhere around is white. The exceptions are few. Black lines, like boxes meant to contain the panels of a comic, hang in the air, tile the floors, extend into eternity, or so it seems. Up and down are hard to define. Up is past one's head. Down is the point where the empty whiteness pushes back against feet. Direction becomes perhaps a bit easier to define in the form of two people, running full speed into the white.
The first is tall and muscular, probably pushing six and a half feet easily and maybe approaching seven, broader than most linebackers. Oh, and his skin is green. Not looking sick green, but green. It goes along with the thick, bone-plate like armoring over his shoulders, and the claws his fingers terminate in. Doesn't really go with the blonde hair or the soft, dreamy blue eyes. He wears what is clearly a one-piece of some sort, a navy blue color with purple edging the neck and the arms, purple chevrons over his chest and back, accenting the thickness of his muscles. Of course the outfit and the man himself are smudged with dirt, or soot, or something.
The other figure was only six foot tall and familiar around Deerington. David, glad in a black and yellow jumpsuit, complete with yellow boots and gloves and a yellow utility belt. Not the best look, especially as scuffed and dirty as it was, but it clearly worked for him, and it was practical if nothing else.
The two run through the almost featureless white until they reach a crossroad. There they stop and catch their breath, David looking off one way, the green man another for a moment. When they speak, some of the black-edged boxes change. They weren't white anymore. Instead they mirrored the two men, one after another, like television screens shooting the two from one dynamic angle and then another and yet another. The very structure of this place defied logic.
"Now we run, hide, hold out until a rescue. This is way outside of my zones of expertise," David said, breathing not even that heavy after the running. Makes sense, as his form had been ideal for running great distances. "And my zone of expertise is pretty much everything."
The green skinned man looked toward David, frowning a little. "So the plan is, basically, 'Don't Die.' I like it."
It earned a brief snort of amusement from David when the other spoke.
"Don't worry. They won't leave us," the green man said, reaching out to put a clawed hand on David's shoulder. The guy clearly didn't notice how David was leaning into that touch, just a little. "Billy won't let them."
The pronouncement earned a brief, almost bitter twist to David's lips. Something about that, or maybe just the name 'Billy,' didn't please him.
"And if worse comes to worst?" David asked, turning to fully look at Teddy, thereby shrugging the hand off of his shoulder.
"We don't let her have us."
What a dark statement. Yet one David met levelly, calmly.
"No regrets?" he asked.
"No regrets."
"I wish I could say the same," David answered, his eyebrows moving just a bit behind his glasses.
He turned the rest of the way toward Teddy and took a tentative step forward. Then another step, until he was close enough to go up onto his tiptoes to press his lips to those of the other man. While he does it his hands come to brace against those broad shoulders, holding himself in place. David's eyes close as he kisses the guy, who just stands there, eyes wide in shock.
When broke the kiss the and went back down on the flats of his feet his hands were still on the other guy's shoulders. For a moment they stared at each other, David silent, the other with his mouth open, staring.
And at last David's hands fell to his sides and he took a half step backwards.
"I'm sorry, Teddy."
The befuddled look on Teddy's face didn't fade. When he spoke it was with a tone that was beyond confused. "What?"
"We should get moving again. Before we die," David insisted, turning away, starting to walk off. And as David did, he mumbled under his breath, "Of Embarrassment."
With that David broke into a run, heading back off into the white space. Meanwhile Teddy threw his hands up into the air and shouted after him.
"David!?"
A Way Humans Like To Celebrate
12/2/21 18:27 (UTC)[For this one I really recommend looking at the Relevant Comics Pages 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, as they will be faster.]
It's night, and cool at that. Somewhere in the winter, given the trees in the area are free of all leaves. And, given the loud party going on in the background, with lights and dancing teens of more looks and strange forms than could be easily pondered, one might assume it's a celebration. Put it together with the cold and hour, it's gotta be New Year's Eve.
Two people walk away from the party, one strolling, one running after them. The former a tall teen with dark hair, a green coat with a fur ruff over a green and gold scaled chest piece and black leather pants. But what really might make him stick out is the golden crown of horns. Those in the know might recognize it as an abbreviation of Loki's helm, but definitely in the right playing field paired with the looks to make a connection there. Chasing him, David, in a white suit and black shirt combo, clearly trying to catch up.
"What are you doing here?" David called after the other man. "Getting in a little extra creepy stalker time before the end of the year?"
Loki pauses to look toward two men in uniforms, aprons, and chefs caps, carrying off a large wooden chest of gold and silver horns and dishes and goblets and other treasures. Loki doesn't make a move toward them.
"Yes David," he says, and his voice curls in that specific sort of way the All-Speech does. Anyone listening or observing would hear the words as they were spoken, but truly understand them in their own language, as such as the nature of that tongue the Asgardians used.
"But mainly," he continued," making sure the caterers get their cash. Working New Year's can't be much fun."
Loki shot a look back over his shoulder, half annoyed. "People doing the dirty work never get enough credit..."
For a moment he seemed like he might turn toward David, who had finally caught up. Instead he stood there as David spoke, an observation neither of them really needed in the air.
"You're the money behind all this."
This being the party, of course. Loki huffed and turned away, walking off and up the hill away from the revelry. As he did so he spoke, voice touched with a bitter humor.
"'Loki finally pays'," he quoted.
The words clearly annoyed David as he sneered and turned to follow Loki with a wide gesture, as if brushing the sentiment aside.
"Oh knock it off," David hissed as he followed. "I'm not exactly popular either."
"They'll be fine with you," Loki promised as the two continued to scale the hill, David a few short strides behind the frost giant turned god. "You just let the party that lurks in the pants undue prominence in the Parliamentary of Prodigy."
Give Loki credit, the man could turn a phrase.
"And really?" he continued with a wide gesture as he reached the crest of the hill. "If I stayed, they'd probably even end up forgiving me too. They're nice like that."
Loki cast a glance back over his shoulder at David. "Which is why I'm not going to give them the chance."
David caught up, and the two turned around, sitting on the hillside. Loki was the first down, easily getting comfortable. David was more gentle in his motions, clearly concerned about white suit plus green grass.
"What now?" David asked after a very long moment of silence.
"Well, my dear David? It's an old story," Loki noted, crossing his arms over his chest. Was it a bid to get warm, or a defensive gesture? Neither of them were saying. "An old story who happens to be me. I'm in a different role now. I have to play the part I wrote myself into. I killed an innocent boy, who was myself. I've done worse, though less existentially traumatic."
A bitter chuckle as Loki closed his eyes for a moment.
"Armies have died for me, in my old life. Whole worlds burned... And I always had someone else to blame." His gaze turned toward David, his expression a sneer. "I can't avoid being Loki."
Dramatic. Gods are dramatic. This one proved it by throwing his hands skyward. "Even if I killed myself, I'd just come back or be brought back. And chances are, if I do, I'll be something even worse..."
Loki sighed and lowered his arms again, shaking his head.
"I'll play this part for as long as I can."
He turned a sad smile on David, just for a moment. "I'm a story. I just have to be the best story I can be."
Another huff of bitter laughter as Loki looked away and mumbled, "Whatever that means."
Now it was time for silence. A long period of it, in which Loki looke down and away, clearly wanting judgement, some pronunciation, some answer. At last there seemed to be one, because David looked to Loki with a soft smile and a brief laugh.
"You saved the world, Loki."
"From myself."
"You know, of all the things I learned with you guys? Saving the world from yourself is the first, most necessary step."
There, support rendered, and a laugh earned. "Thank you."
But clearly there was more than just that in what David said, because Loki turned a bit more toward David, a different sort of smile on his lips. More contemplative, more anticipatory. Seeing it actually took some of the smile from David's own lips, like he was worried about what might be said next.
"It's a new year," Loki said, his voice dipping toward a suggestion with those words. "I do believe there's a way humans like to celebrate..."
The implication was one that clearly caught David off guard because he actually jerked a little away in shock.
"Really? Are you serious?"
"I could be. My culture doesn't really share your concept of sexual identity. There are sexual acts, that's it," Loki explained, his voice dipping toward a sultry purr. "I'm actually the patron god of certain popular ones, believe it or not."
David's expression firmed up into something a bit more serious then. Serious and a touch pitying.
"No. I don't think so. You're not my type."
With that Loki rose to his feet, his face partially in shadows. It meant that from David's angle he wouldn't be able to see the momentary flicker of disappointment. "Then it's lucky I wasn't serious. That said, what, pray tell, is your type?"
There's no hesitation in David's response, but there is a bit of a smile.
"Good guys."
Loki laughed. Even as he did so, he started to turn to green smoke, a spell no doubt to let him get away. "You always were smart."
And so David was left alone on a hillside, a party below, and a contemplative look on his face.