1964-09-07 - I Feel Like Bustin' Loose
Summary: Some folks come to visit Kwabena in the medbay, which of course results in something of a 'prison break'.
Related: A Rebel Yell
Theme Song: None
rogue theresa kwabena kaleb 

The rumor mill can be fairly vicious around this place. Rumor has it someone tried to blow up the mansion again. Rumor says it was Jean Grey, but then others declare that it was not Jean Grey, but that it was the mutant visitor someone had brought in late at night. No, say others, it was one of those new mutants hanging around, one of the other ones who isn't going to school here.


Truth is, Kwabena did almost blow up the mansion, but it was not by his design. He's remained in the Medbay under watch for the past 12 hours, but, at long last he's grown frustrated and is yelling at the nurse, finger extended. "You cannot say if anything is wrong with me, so, I do not stay!"

"No, Kwabena, I am not sure that is s-"

"I am safe! I feel fine!"

"Your feeling fine may not mean that you are fine!"


It is probably not quite rumors of mansions being nearly blown up that has Theresa more than a little worried. Likely it is the fact that Kwabena's been missing for a rather sizable chunk of time, and she's gone searching.

That search has lead her to rumors which has lead her to the medbay. Still new to the entire thing, she takes a few wrong turns before she ends up arriving where she's trying to go, and just in time to hear Kwabena's yelling at the nurse. There's a small pause, then she's clearing her throat, "Luv, perhaps you should stop yelling…"


Kaleb was visited by Elixir, but due to personal several other reasons returned to the lab. New suit. His tone was clipped and curt as was the standard fare of efficiency. "I said I'm -" He didn't enjoy needing to use his powers for suggestion purposes and at least it wasn't something vulgar that left his face when he finally retorted "Leave me be." He was 18 but walked like a Wall Street exec living large, only he made no sound as his shoes hit tile. He didn't know Theresa but she received an arched eyebrow. He was there to address Kwabena. "I was thinking we should talk, but if this is a bad time… it can wait." Eyes looked over Kwabena with interest, and for what it was worth, he looked like he didn't have a scratch on him.


There's nothing that might temper an ill-tempered man more quickly than woman. That, and the nurse does make a damn good point. Kwabena's mouth is wide open, his finger wagging out of his medical gown, when Theresa's voice cuts through all of the arguing to bring silence from the Ghanaian. He turns toward her, and his finger falls, an apologetic expression sent to the nurse. "Of course. I apologize." He then motions toward Theresa. "May I at least… stay out of bed for some few minutes?"

The nurse nods her concession.

When he finally turns away from the nurse, Kaleb is arriving. Kwabena seems genuinely a bit surprised to see him, but seeing the young man also brings back a flood of all too recent memories. He blinks, flinches for a moment, then reaches a hand out for one of the chairs nearby. "Jesus," he whispers, and sits down roughly.

The nurse walks up toward Theresa and Kaleb, scowling. "See?" she points out, gesturing for Kwabena. "Not fine."


"He'll be fine, luv…don't worry." Theresa assures the nurse, offering her a smile before she glides on past without even asking if she's allowed to do so. Better to seek forgiveness, than permission, right?

She moves towards where Kwabena has sat down, dropping into a crouch next to him, her brows lifting as she just stares at him. Nothing said, not for the moment. Just a stare that is eventually broken so that her attention can shift towards Kaleb. "Depends on the talking, but it might be a nice distraction."


Presumably the little Icelandic deviant responsible for inciting a disruption to the tranquility around the Institute has been dealt with. The quiet restored to the lovely home of one Professor Charles Xavier doesn't make today much different from any other day at a residential boarding school. Never mind the anguish caused by disruptions to the architecture, visitation by a cosmic being, or various soul-searing activities.

It's worth noting Live is not in the medbay. Nor, until this moment, is Scarlett. The two coincidental connections are one's own to make, but the redheaded bohemienne of Greenwich Village cares to appear for reasons other than her own health. The nurse knows better than even to try. When she needs healing, just hook her up to Logan or call Jean.

The crowd, though, is not exactly expected. It pulls her up short. "Party in the subterranean bunker, huh? No one ever lets me know. I can bring the most interesting drinks."


Kaleb had no room to talk or make requests but as always he was impertinent enough to do so and for whatever reason people tended to listen. He was at least learning how to do this without being snappish like a turtle on fire. "Give him twenty minutes. Maybe breakfast?" He looked to Kwabena and then to Theresa who got a long look from toe to head. He assured the nurse, "He'll stay here." Demanding facilitator? It might be his primary super power, but he was happy to get on the other needs of the day to help him out.


Kwabena finally pulls his hand away from his face, and looks toward Theresa for a long moment. His eyes dance back and forth, studying her face as if it were a distant thing he hasn't seen for years. Then, suddenly, there is recognition, and he sits more upright, inhaling sharply. "Red," he breathes, then turns to look at Kaleb. The young man's snappy demeanor doesn't bother him, or if it does, he doesn't notice. His brow is furrowed. "You ah not injured, Kaleb." He's pleased with this, but also, confused.

Finally, Rogue shows up. He looks her way with a similar bit of confusion, but then shakes his head. "I could use a good, stiff drink, yes."


"Hello, luv." Theresa replies to Kwabena when he finally seems to recognize her, getting to her feet to reach out and settle a hand against his shoulder, giving him a quick squeeze. She glances at Kaleb, offering him a smile of greeting that then extends to Rogue when she arrives. That arrival, and really, Kaleb as well, brings the realization that she actually does not know everyone present, she she quickly tries to correct that, "Theresa…I'm new around here."


Don't fear the reaper. The redhead has a slightly hollow, ethereal look to her that nibbles away at her abundant vitality. It's hard to specifically say what the source is, and that stark hue of surprise lasts when the term 'Red' is detailed. Scarlett turns those bright, unnaturally green eyes upon Kwabena and then Theresa, a ghost of a smile offered to the latter woman. "Good morning. A pleasure to meet you. Scarlett." Hints of an accent tumble through her golden soprano, decidedly Scandinavian. For the others? Icelandic, through and through, though given she already speaks a variation of the language, that might not be too surprising. "Then when everyone is suitably topside capable, I'll bring something out that will probably knock you off your feet. We certainly could use it."


Kaleb cracked a faint smile and leaned back on his heels with some amusement. "Second best ass kicking of my life. First time my gifts exploded. Tore my head apart. Crippled a kid I still don't care much for. He didn't necessarily deserve it. Point being? It ain't just you. Can happen to anyone. That… was an unfortunate chain of reactions that started long before us. But yes, Elixir got me back on my feet. Warren's not too worse for the wear and Jean and Scareltt are … well alright from that. So…" He paused and was not good at 'peopling'. Still it was a little close to home and in a way, apparently important to him. "I thought you deserved to know you didn't do too much permanent damage. Not knowing can be… well a bitch. SO I ask you, how are you feeling?"

He waited for the response first and hung everyone else to wait for a moment. Not the warmest fellow. "Echo." There was a pause and it was like he was trying ardently to not just be a dick so a nod followed to Theresa. "Or Kaleb. Pleasure. Student? Faculty? Consultant? Airecraft design?" It was th e Miller in him that had 80 questions for anything. Still his attention swiveled back to teh recovering and post-distressed Kwabena. "Morning, Scarlett."


Kwabena listens carefully, nodding once or twice toward Kaleb. "I did not even know dat whole… dat whole mess was possahble," he offers. "Guess dere's still much I do not know about myself." He is glad to hear that Kaleb and Warren are doing well. Live had twisted his entire psyche in that moment, and in his mind's eye, he had watched with glee while all four of them had their skin and muscles flayed from their bones. So… yes. There is relief in his visage.

Something about Rogue's tone haunts him, though. Maybe it's the icelandic root, but his eyes dart her way with a touch of momentary alarm. He's smart enough to realize what's happening, at least in a summary manner, and so he fights the alarm off with a slight gnashing of his jaw back and forth.

"Best not get her shouting," Kwabena warns of Theresa, when she makes her introduction. "Girl has one hell of a set of pipes."

As for how he's feeling? He sits up a bit straighter, then stubbornly pulls himself to his feet. "My head feels like blendah," he admits. "Being… cooped up in here is no help."

The nurse sighs. "I understand that, Mister Odame, but I'm just not sure how safe it is for you to go outside just yet."

"I am in complete control," Kwabena argues.

The nurse scoffs. "No, you aren't. Kwabena, your mutation is affected by your emotional state. In the past twelve hours, I've observed a number of changes to your vitals. Body temperature, heart rate; variations in pupil dilation not contingent upon ambient room lighting. It's all sign that you're not mentally strong enough to be outside of my supervision, just yet."

"What about dere supahvision?" he asks, gesturing toward those gathered.


There is a very light, almost amused clearing of her throat, not for the fact Kwabena mentions her set of pipes, but instead for the nurse's comment about his emotional state. "Perhaps, if his mutation is affected by his emotional state we'd want him to be as calm and relaxed as possible?" She wonders, putting every ounce of Irish charm into things that she can, "I'm sure that we can keep him nice and calm, and there won't be any harm letting him get some fresh air, right?"

She doesn't know to be wary of the accent, so the wink given to both Rogue and Kaleb is particularly relaxed, and amused. Nothing about the past explosion seems to be ruffling her, possibly because she wasn't there to witness it. Might change if she'd been one of the unlucky ones.


Scarlett too listens, though she tilts her head in Kaleb's direction when he would confess her to be well. "Enduring," she clarifies in a droll tone, underscoring levity with a breath of mirth otherwise absent. No outward distress follows her, though she does rein in her personality somewhat to keep from overpowering what is intended to be a place of rest and healing. Hands clasp together in front of her, pressing flat the patterned diaphanous tunic with a decided Pucci print; watercolour oranges and coppers melting into pink and shocks of violet. In silence she can read the others better than she might, keeping a polite distance.

"Being cooped up in here is essential until someone with proper medical or psychiatric background can be sure there are no residual effects. I would be concerned with that, first, as frustrating as it is," she murmurs, sympathy for the man plain. "If it makes you feel any better, we can probably entertain you to some degree. The other alternative is that you rely on me to calm you down if you get frisky. And I have an excellent bedside manner, Nurse."

Right. The Soul-Thief, totally helping, here.


Kaleb looked faintly sheepish. That might be a first. "Sorry, Kwabena. Some of that is likely my fault. stabbing migraine, vertigo. Poor Live's likely going to be blind for a damn while."

His attention spun to the nurse and he wasn't nice. His tone was sharp and cold like a steel box. "Leave. Now. He's fine with us" And the look was unwaivering. Did he… did he just order the nurse out of the room? He did and she was… listening. Seems even if he's settled in a bit he was not at all shy about using his privileges of upbringing to bear as a weapon. Still his attention seemed to be on the after effects of what happened to Kwabena and for all intents and purposes, seemed to respect his having to go through this ordeal.

To Theresa though on the comment of 'pipes' he squint. Hmmm. "Never really met another sonic before. Jay's a mimic. Not the same. We'll have to talk sometime." He fell quiet keeping an eye on Scarlett. This was curious. He took a deep breath and looked back to Kwabena. "I'm going to say this from recent experience: We don't like to ask for help or feel dependent. I respect that about you. You get things done. However, when someone swizzles your DNA or your skills? Sometimes… it's also safer for ourselves and the people we're trying to help to carefully readjust to being ourselves. For me? Been three weeks and I'm still working at it. I'd be dead in the water had someone not come to me and said, Kale, this is happening. We're saying to you, Kwabena, this is happening because how this affected you and what it made you do when you didn't want to? That matters to us. That's why this medbay. That's why all these tests and shit. It's why us I suppose." He looked back to Scarlett and nodded. Echo was not, by far and large likable, but he was a team player it seemed.


The nurse looks toward Theresa, concealing a scoff. "My dear, in the past twelve hours, he's ripped out two IVs, transformed himself into that inky blank smoke three times, and tried to rend me defenseless with his foul language more times than I can count."

Kwabena waves dismissively to the nurse. "I don't know about dat, Kaleb," Kwabena answers. "Live was-" He's cut off though, when Kaleb lets loose on the nurse. He raises his eyebrows and watches as the nurse trundles off, blinking for a moment before looking back toward Kaleb. In that single moment, the kid earned the full measure of his respect. They were similar, in that regard; Kwabena can be as bullheaded as they come, but to speak so frankly demands his respect.

"Thanks= you," he says after a moment, then looks toward Scarlett. "If I can't keep shit togedah, den, do what you have to. Now let's get de hell out of here. De sun is up dere, and a pack of smokes in taxi."

He finally makes to stand, and when he does, he reaches out to find Theresa's hand. He leans over to say something quietly to her. "For once, I am glad you were not dere. It was not a good thing."


"Aren't there always residual effects, though?" Theresa wonders, sounding almost like she might be speaking from experience about how past events just hang on. But it is brief when Kaleb kicks the nurse out.

She shakes it off, whatever it was, and just smiles at Kaleb, "I'm sure that we will sometime." She agrees before taking Kwabena's hand, giving it a squeeze, "I'm sure, luv. However I've a bit of a different opinion on my presence being good or bad, but we can agree to disagree on this and instead get you your cigarettes."


"Residual effects? Yes and no. There are days I wish we had a power dampener around here, but that's a hard role to play in a place such as this, and I'm certain that someone with that particular gift would find little welcome among those of us who enjoy what we can do, rather than those who do not." Stigmatization, it's a thing, and a nasty one at that. Scarlett's fingers brush over her deep flame braids, and tuck behind her ear one of those thin plaits. "However, we have the advantage perhaps of needing cigarettes up in the fresh air. In the absence of anyone manipulating the air to cause all kinds of fun, up we go."

Her smile is a thin arc, if that, but something at least suitable to seem like regular, everyday girl and senior mentor to a cadre of younger or less experienced sorts. Oh, what do they know? She asks Theresa, "Are you a student, then, or attached in a different way?"


Kaleb really had no qualms to give. He didn't stand on ceremony. He didn't seem to have much time for small talk or the nuisance of coddling someone's precious sensibilities. He certainly didn't have time for rebuttals to inconsequential matters. In that regard Kwabena was given a nod to indicate 'you're welcome' and saved his words for things that did need saying. Echo was not likable, but he was reliable.

On the note of a power dampener he sighed almost wistful, "Yeah you have no idea how far I had to go to find one, Scarlett." Because he doesn't talk about trips to strange places and who would believe him anyways?

All he added was, "Probably do not want to smoke around the oxygen tanks." He wasn't a chemist, but he paid attention. "Other reason I wanted to come talk to you is to see if there's nothing we can do about Live. He needs help and it ain't with his skill set. I'm talking the other thing."


There is a moment where Kwabena tries to find Theresa's eyes. If successful, she might see a sense of deep conviction to his own side of the argument. All in due time, of course. He offers no opinion on the matter of power dampeners, though he isn't ignoring Scarlett's words either; the bohemian gets a brief look that is noncommittal on the subject, before he's rising to his feet and kicking off the medbay slippers. The sweatpants and white tee shirt he could deal with, but those slippers were awful. He'd much rather be barefoot.

As they walk through the X-Men Base, headed for less subterranean territory, he perks an eyebrow at Kaleb. "Might be de wrong question," he offers. "Question may be, should we risk trying to help him furthah." As they walk, he turns toward Theresa, still not quite ready to let go of the woman's hand. "Live, he's… I guess a youngah mutant dey found in Iceland." He considers just how to explain the next part. "He is dangerous. He twisted me, made me… see things, do things, feel things." He narrows his eyes then, as if only really talking about what happened for the first time here, and now. "It was like everything bright and good was gone. All I saw was… fire. Rage. All of de bad things, and I wanted to destroy it all. I really wanted to, and dat's… not like me."


"Student? Oh, no." Theresa replies, although her response lacks a little certainty in the answer, "I'm not sure that I'm any sort of student, other ways, I think."

When Kwabena starts to explain some of what happened that frown just deepens, and she curls his hand in against her side, shaking her head, "Bright and good aren't gone, though, luv. Sometimes we just miss them when we don't see them, but they aren't ever gone, not really….and we're all uh…human, flaws and all. Don't feel ashamed for the wantin', especially if this Live forced it."


Kaleb fell quiet. Kwabena had the question of the hour and normally while he didn't give an ass' rats about other people… it was a mutant that they were talking about that had been run through the ringer. As much as he could commiserate with Kwabena, he could more than see Live's point of view which was, in its own way, jarring.

It was Theresa that got a cold look from him on one point and the words were quiet and resolute, "We're not human" There was… definite disgust off the thought but he pushed it no further. One might as well call him 'common' or 'working class' by that token.

Finally he answered Kwabena and polled Theresa and Scarlett. "On one hand? Jean is right. You cannot help someone who doesn't want to be helped. Trust me, found that out the hard way once. However, I mean I've been where Live's at. Sometimes you have to just lash out at the world because it's never given you a reason not to. Because sometimes all you know is living in a state of constantly defending yourself at all times. Sometimes it take a talk. But he's got no reason to trust us more than anyone else and frankly we've not earned that."

His jaw set and he took a deep breath coming from a place of frank experience, "It takes a lot of work to earn someone's trust especially if they're an asshole. But too often no one bothers to go, 'Who hurt you?' to try and understand. Live's not the problem. Live is the symptom of his condition." He paused for use of 'language' in front of the ladies…and ultimately decided he didn't care that much about social conventions to bother apologizing for it.


"Curious. Xavier will no doubt have ideas for those of us past age to study like the teenagers do, but then how to control things. Maybe we can call you associates or something," says the redhead thoughtfully. The other redhead; one of more English sensibility than Irish.

She is quiet. "You may need to think hard on whether he can be helped. I'm not an advocate for pushing someone where they do not wish to go. We can show a second path, but rehabilitation of that one is going to be… Well, difficult." Her expression alters to a thoughtful cant, gaze distant, mouth soft.


"No, they're not," Kwabena answers Theresa. "But, for a moment, dey were. Dat is what troubles me." He goes silent then, watching carefully as the conversation delves into areas he's not entirely comfortable with, or familiar with. At least, on a positive note, they have finally made their way outside.

At this point, Kwabena feels comfortable leading the way. He walks around the grounds toward the front, where his busted old taxi cab remains parked. Cigarettes are certainly on his mind, but they aren't the only thing. "De question being asked," he points out, "is not, does Live want help." He laughs a bit, shaking his head. "I think we have answered dat. No, de question you ah asking, really is…" He pauses, gesturing about as he tries to find the right words in English. "Is worth risk in trying to show him dis, dis, ah, oddah way." He stops then, turning to face the others. "Look, I do not give a fuck about de laws of dis country. If you guys want to keep him here, tied up, is not even legal, probably. So what? You take dat whole mess away, now you ah looking at… how fah do you go? How hahd do you try? Eventually, you will need to give him de chance to do it again. I undahstand, am new to all of dis, but he did something to me I did not know possahble. No, dat is," he stops, shaking his head. "Dat is not it. He showed me I could do a thing I did not see was something I could do. What if he does dat with someone who can already do far worse dan I can?"

What if it were Jean? Or the Professor? What if Theresa discovered she could scream loud enough to cripple, no, even kill, the entire planet?

He finally resumes walking, heading toward his taxi. "Question you ask is dis. Is it worth risking much ovah one pahson?"


The cold look is returned with an unflappable smile by Theresa, her expression almost one of pity for a split second before she falls into step as they move up, out and then eventually towards the taxi. After Kwabena asks his question she shakes her head, "How can you not put in some risk, though?" She lifts her free hand, indicating she's not done before continuing, "I know, it's a matter of how much risk….and I can't answer that, I think that is too much dependant on each person. I know I would not risk as much for some, but more for others."


Kaleb seemed welcome to hear them out. These were smart people with varied and other life experiences he had and that gave them valuable perspective. At the mention of crippling or killing a person Echo looked up and squint. That was a little on the nose for him. What he tied to was the example of severity. "There's a man that can do that. Who if not careful can sonicly tear this planet, the moon, much more completely apart. They didn't put him down and he is now a leader of his people. IT took him a lot of work and it took a looooot of people to help him. But it was done. Not just that but the technological advancements that came out of that turned around to help another sonic in need, granted it was me but that's not the point. My point is if we give up on him? What about the people he could help or the things we can learn to help out more of our own, Kwabena?"

He let that sink in as it were and the kid that really didn't care if the world burned certainly seemed to be passionate about who burned on it. Though there was intensity there was not volume.

"It's not for everyone, but that is a fellow mutant. He's hurting. He's alone, and he's got only himself. You said it yourself, that is no way to live. If we want to help heal what the world did to us we can't be selective, but sure, we can be careful. Who are we to decide who is worth giving up on and who isn't though? I still say we get him healed and we line up shots and actually start treating him like a person. We can't demand that we get treated like people if we can't do that for one another. Just saying."


"Well, I do not have de answah you ah looking for," Kwabena answers. He pops his cab open, rummages around in the glovebox for a moment, and comes out with his smokes and an old, charred and beaten zippo. "But, if we ah going to line up shots, I'm in. Probably good idea to keep Live's eyes covahed and his hands to himself, at least for now, but… who knows?"

He lights a cigarette and takes a moment to really revel in it; 13 hours without nicotine? That's rough. Following two good puffs, he offers the pack to Kaleb, knowing that Theresa will decline. "If de shots don't work, maybe we try some grass, and de Beatles."


Theresa's got no idea what the actual deal with this mutant is though, so she just leans herself against the taxi and listens in. The mention of the Beatles, though, causes her to smile just a little.


Kaleb actually warmed an easy, lopsided grin at the mention of Plan B. Who knew he knew how to smile. "I like this plan. Man, I got to see the Beatles play live at Wembly Stadium back in June. It was pretty insane. If you have the opportunity that's something you need to do. Besides, one of them is a mutant. Their one fella John? Turns out he's a natural Empath." Mutants doing great things? Music? a little 'social vacation'? Seems like they found a common ground. "I wanted to arrange another trip out there but things got ahhh… they got a lil messy. Year''s not out yet. Really want to kick out to see Sam Cook or James Brown at the Apollo." yes the rich spoiled white boy was hellbent at seeing them live too. He looked to Theresa, "If you haven't heard them? There's the future wave right there."


That similar grin is leaned over into Kaleb's direction. "Nevah seen dem, but I have dere records." Kwabena looks back toward Theresa with a knowing expression, before darting his attention back to Kaleb. "John Lennon is a mutant?" he asks, incredulous. "No, you have to be joking. You ah joking, yes?"


Theresa stares momentarily at Kaleb when he tells her she should hear them if she hasn't already, amusement warring with irritation for a moment before she coughs, a hand lifting to cover her mouth. "I've heard them, luv. Seen them a few times, in fact…caught a show or two in Liverpool before anyone on this side of the pond knew who they were. I've never had the chance to see them here, though." She glances at Kwabena, lifting her shoulders in a bit of a shrug, evidently she has no idea the voracity of that statement.


Kaleb shook his head with a grin to Theresa, "They haven't been to the States yet. I was in Europe for my graduation present. Got to kick around Soho. It was really groovy." He left off the part about having to break Warren out of a facilicity seeing him expieremented on in horrific ways, but that was a different discussion. To Kwabena he boggled, "Have I ever struck you with possessing a sense of humor? Yes I'm dead serious." He had to chuckle at the self-jab at his personality flaws. "Natural Empath and II think, if if I was catching it perperly, people and animals. Reading. Projection. Got to run into him briefly at this party soem folks were having. I'll tell ya I didn't take anything at that party but I came out of there feeling way alright with the world." He shook his head and furrowed his brow "Feel a lil naked when I'm not angry, I won't lie. but they're somethin special. IF they continue to gain ground? COuld be a really good push for equality for Mutants out there. Other minority groups too. I dunno. he got me thinking. People like that come sometimes once in a lifetime, but… it's good."


Theresa and Kwabena have had this very conversation, about mutants and minorities, of which he is both. He's not quite jiving to have it again. So, he shrugs and says, "Well, den, I will now have to get tickets when dey decide to come to America."

He then looks down at his hands, cigarette perched in his mouth and billowing smoke up past his face. He holds his hands out before him, as if something just suddenly came to mind. He focuses on them, and then, with a poof, they transform into black smoke, up to his elbows. "Holy shit," he whispers, then leans forward a bit. The hands solidify again, and then the whole process happens again. "I don't believe it." He looks toward Theresa, who knows he's never had control over that aspect of his phase shifting.


"They performed here in February, if I remember the news right." Theresa offers, then she glances at Kwa just in time to notice what he's doing, the implication not lost on her at all. She straightens up from where she was leaning, reaching out towards his hands to poke them, "Do it again."


Kaleb didn't press on the conversation much past that. A tleast he was aware things happened to teh left and right of Mutant problems. There was a look with both eyebrows arched to Theresa, "I did not know that. I only caught them in June when I was overseas, but hopefully they'll come back. Or we'll jsut have to go there ebcause it's something that needs to be… done?" His voice trailed off into curiosity. That Shift shifted into smoke and back wasn'tworld breaking for Echo, but Kwabena's reaction to it was. This indicated either a problem or newness. As it started to be the latter from what he could tell? There was a slow grin that formed. Hell it took him more than a while to start grasping how to process echolocation, but that lightbulb moment feeling yourself do something new? That was a rush.


"Again?" Kwabena looks back to his hands and just like that, it happens again. Unfortunately, this discovery isn't coming with quite the same rush that might be anticipated. He winces suddenly, when a flash of malice and rage comes through him. His hands immediately reform, crackle with that same sound that comes when he goes super-solid, but its short lived and he's back to normal quickly.

"Damn," he says, and reaches up to remove the cigarette from his mouth. "I think…" He looks to Theresa, then Kaleb. "I think he unlocked it when he changed me."

Some price to pay. It might take a while to un-scramble his brain.


"Again." Theresa agrees, although his reaction to the second time causes her to give him a momentarily worried look before she brushes it off. Once more she reaches for his hand, potential for her own fingers being mangled if that flash of rage comes back not seeming to scare her off. "Maybe he did, and if that is the case…that isn't that terrible alone."

"I've no idea when they are coming back, but considering their popularity I imagine they will." Theresa replies, latching onto that other topic, shifting until she can lean against Kwa, "Maybe we will go? If they come back."


Kaleb stood, hands in pockets surveying Shift's change thoughtfully. He wasn't much for contact but didn't seem repulsed by watching it either. There was a deep breath. His jaw sat and an eyebrow arched and he pushed Kwabenna quietly, "…Again." Once was a fluke, twice was coincidence. Three? Well that there was a trend, sir.


Again. Kwabena doesn't let go of Theresa's hand this time; he looks down to them and with a poof, they transform once more. This time, the smoke lingers, in two pillars that swirl around a bit. "Hold on. Let me, ah, try something." He then closes his eyes, focusing for two to three seconds. Then, his head disappears, replaced by swirling tendrils of black.

It lasts for just a moment. His head reforms first, then his hands, the one squeezing down on Theresa's as soon as it finds contact. He does seem dizzy, but he is laughing. "Shit," he breathes, the cigarette having dropped to the ground. He looks down dizzily, about to snuff it out when he remembers that he has no shoes on.

"When we go," he tells Theresa, "I promise not to sneak on stage in smoke form."

He's joking, for sure, isn't he?


"If you do, I want an autograph." Theresa clearly has no problems with him sneaking up on stage, even if that would totally be bad. Right? The fact he localizes the smoke, and things go back the way they should causes her to laugh, however.

The predicament with the lack of shoes is solved when she steps over to twist the burning cherry under the toes of her shoes, making certain there's no risk of fire happening. "Don't push though, luv. I made myself hoarse for a week the first time I learned a new trick…terrible."


Kaleb stood there, nads in pockets, witha shakrlike grin. This was good. This was very good. Disturbing, but excellent. At Theresa's wisdoms he nodded. "Sooo… Three weeks ago I was kidnapped and hopped up on some drug that stripped away all my skills. Couldn't feel like a damn thing. THey came back amplified. Flooded. I pushed it and immediately struck myself blind and deaf and on the floor losing my lunch." He was…not proud of this. He offered this bit of humility out as a shared experience and support for Theresa's caution. Kwabena and she got a faint smile though. He didn't bother using his mouth to speak. Sound around him spoke for him. *I can do this though now which really aggrivates my roommate though so there's a perk. Look I'm glad you're worried about me and Warren, we're worried about you too. THere are changes. Ride it out. Give yourself time. We're not going to be good at new things at first either. That's…that's sadly a thing too.*


"If I push dis," Kwabena answers, "I'll end up naked constantly, so, don't worry. I don't really want dat to be my claim to fame around here."

It is certainly a strange experience, hearing Kaleb's words as if spoken from the air itself. "Now dat is neat trick," the Ghanaian answers with raised eyebrows.

He then realizes that they've both had a moment to show off. Not so with Theresa. He turns toward her then, eyebrows still lifted. "You gonna share, foxy?" he asks, egging her on.


"I don't much mind that happening." Theresa points out with a laugh before she resumes her lean against the car, her expression turning thoughtful when Kaleb shares his trick.

But then Kwa is egging her on, and she slants him a look before she shakes her head, "Me? I wouldn't…" She pauses, thinking, "Most of what I can do would hurt someone else…Except…" She releases Kwabena's hand so that she can step away from the taxi, starting to look around on the ground for something, and eventually she finds a rock, picking it up to hold it out to one of them, which ever seems brave enough, "Throw this at me as hard as you can."


Kaleb shook his head and grinned to Theresa *Have Kwabena throw it. My athletic skills short of track and rowing are… not impressive.* He dressed like ten large, but he was, turns out, jsut a super fly nerd as it were. There were people for physical things, he was not one of them. *Yeah, this didn't happen until recently. THought before I was only good for screaming and disrupting cell structures in organic and crystaline things? Turns out I'm something called an elementalist? Still figuring that out. It's sort of why I'm really intersted in talking to Miss Theresa here. Compare notes. Test new things. But if you need a guy to kill sound in a fourty yard area so you can go tromping through it like a bull and have no one notice? Have private conversations out in teh open? I'm your guy. Just don't let me get hit. That's all I really ask. It's… dangerous when things happen to me. Not because of me but some people get… I don't like to worry people.* That was simple. Simplier than explaining that there's someone that might try to do irrational things when they get upset like lay waste to a city block.

But THeresa was getting ready and this? Was utterly fascinating for him. In truth there was a lot he didn't try and while part of him wnated to be a territorial snot? The other part of him found this fascinating kinship to see someone he could learn and share something with that was ironicly hard to put in words. "The lady said throw things at her"


Theresa gets a look for that remark, and he even goes so far as to slide an elbow over to her midsection for a good friendly ribbing. However, all signs of joviality are stalled a bit when the burden falls on him to throw that rock.

Picking up the rock, he tests its weight for a moment. "I'm beginning to realize," he agrees with Kaleb, "dat my abilities might not be only best suited for fighting." So many thoughts are coming to him now, and it all started with sneaking on stage to meet John Lennon. If he could sneak there… where else could he sneak? How thin could he draw out his molecular structure in its gaseous state? Could he, dare say, even become invisible?

All of this as he walks a few yards away, rock in hand. "Listen now," he calls to both. "If dis does not work, nobody can say is domestic violence." He looks toward Theresa and blows her a kiss. "You asked for it, love."

He curls his arm back and lobs it like a pitcher, aiming right for Theresa's face.

Then, he ducks.


"I'm Irish, luv…I'll just hit back." Theresa calls back towards Kwabena with a laugh, seeming to have no lack of faith for her ability to not be hit by a rock. For one, she could probably just duck.

For second, what she does MIGHT not be what Kwabena expects her to do since he ducked. Instead of blasting the poor rock out of the air, she just shifts one foot back, braces herself and instead of screaming she instead just talks, and seems to pluck those sound waves right from the air, tightening them together in front of her so that when the rock reaches it, it smacks against the shield and….drops.

Now what does she say during all this? Well, it's rather humorous perhaps, but she starts to repeat drink recipes. Someone has filled their head with things for work, and it might just have been the first thing on her mind that was safe to say outloud.


Kaleb stood and waited. Were it Echo? He'd have gone for shattering the rock, the man that threw it, the window o the cab, and all of the glass in the area, but not until after it hit him. THis? This was impressive. It was impressive enough to be done but what the sonic picked up was the pull of the soundwaves, their knit, and their redirection as a vibrating force bearing it's mass at such a rate to block out not other sound as cancellation, but solid matter. Thaaat was decidedly boss. He said nothing but the look was one that was definiately respect leaving the dour young man impressed.


From his crouch, Kwabena fully expects the rock to end up bounced back his way; or to he shattered, and a painful sound beam to pierce his eardrums. Instead, it just… drops.

Rising, he walks back over, mouth ajar. "What was dat?" he asks. "I didn't hear anything, not anything weird, and it just… it just dropped!"


"Well of course it did, luv." Theresa replies, a hand lifting to wave at the air in front of her, the shield allowed to fade away fairly quickly when she's not focusing on making it a thing. "It's one of the newer things I learned, before I came here…it's a lot harder for me to do than some of the others." She then gestures towards Kaleb, "I can't do what he did, for instance."


Kaleb still had both eyebrows arched. "Yeah that's… I could see what you're doing. Or… know. Feel? it's weird. That's actually inspiring some ideas." He paused and considered finally offering, "Kwabena, I did want to talk shop with you at some point about work and a private gig on and off but aside from that? Hell, should join us for dinner at some point. But right now I have to meet someone for lunch who has dressed to impress." There was a small amusement to this though he added without the pretense, "Theresa, was a pleasure to meet you. Kwabena… really glad you're alright. It'll be ugly for a bit but Warren and I? No harm, no foul man. Don't beat yourself up too bad over that yeah?"


A whistle escapes Kwabena's lips as he draws up to the others, with Theresa of course the center of attention. "Remind me nevah to try throwing anything at you," he jests, though the prospect of what they might be able to pull off as a team is… tempting.

He turns to Kaleb then, clearly curious. "Well, I don't mean to quit driving taxi. Is fun some days, is… what is de word? Annoyance on oddah, but, I will be around for some days, yeah." He nods his head earnestly then, quietly appreciative that Kaleb at least won't be holding it against him.

He then walks forward and takes Theresa's hand. "You ah something else," he tells her, before moving in for a little kiss.

Let the rumor mill spin.


"Could you?" Theresa wonders, nodding at Kaleb before she squints, evidently their talk of things is curious. But not curious enough for her to ask too many questions. When Kaleb makes his exit plans she nods, "It was a pleasure."

There's a bit of a smile for Kwa before she catches him for more than just a little kiss. Rumor mills be damned.


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