fandomhighdorms | Fourth Floor Common Room, Friday afternoon

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Fourth Floor Common Room, Friday afternoon

Joker sat on the couch with his foot propped up. Stress fractures like the ones he'd given himself yesterday weren't so big of a deal -- he had pills for that -- but it still hurt, dammit.

He was playing a match 3 game -- in other words, swiping with one hand at glowing objects floating in the air above his other wrist -- and he had the TV on in the background, for company. It was tuned to The Weather Channel, and he was starting to get a little sick of the Winter Storm Orion coverage. "You know what I hate?" he remarked, to no one in particular. "Weather. We don't really get that, where I'm from."

[Open like a common room!]

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"'Fail', 'don't get an A', same difference," Joker answered. No, Joker, to most people it really wasn't.

He cooed softly to the doll and shushed it lightly. "What do you mean, what am I doing? It's got sensors -- accelerometer, microphone, that sort of thing. You need to give it the same inputs you would a real baby, in order to pass the assignment."

Eleanor was still staring at him like he had an extra head.

"If you're so fond of it, you're free to keep it for the week," she said. "I was told that singing would make it sleep when it starts shrieking, but that failed repeatedly last night."

"Yeah, no, if I do it for you? Also a fail. Here." He held the doll out to her. "Always support the head, because babies have weak neck muscles. Cradle, don't grab. Now, show me how you sang to it."

Eleanor stared at the doll for a moment, and something that had been brewing in her suddenly bubbled to the surface.

"No," she said.

And once it was out, it was out.

"I'm in no mood to coddle a piece of temperamental plastic just to bribe it into letting me sleep," she snapped. "Or just to pass an assignment for a class I never signed up for. This whole thing is ridiculous."

"Oooooookay," Joker replied. She seemed remarkably firm about it. "Well, I guess we know where you fall on the 'do you want to have kids' question. If you want to fail the assignment, you can always hand it back to your teacher."

Maybe that was what was bothering her. Something itched, deep down. A well of resentment.

"I'm not going to have children," she said bitterly. "Anything I even managed to birth would be a horrid, misshapen freak."

It didn't help that Eleanor had no idea what decent parenting even looked like. Her father had killed monsters for her; that was what she knew of love.

"Oh, and we all know how bad freaks are," Joker snorted. "Imagine if it couldn't even walk properly! Could you bear the shame?!"

He knew, somewhere inside, that she was really trying to say something about being infertile, or... something, but the knee-jerk reaction took over.

Sorry, it was going to take her a second.

"... What?"

Edited 2014-02-07 19:36 (UTC)

Joker switched to a mocking falsetto. "Oh, look at me! I'm not going to have kids 'cause they might end up crippled! Oh, noooo!"

Eleanor's jaw dropped, and -- oh. He thought she meant --

Right. It was fairly mortifying, to either have Joker think she was some sort of terrible small-minded person, or have to actually explain what she was talking about. And not just 'I have powers,' but the actual ugly truth of it.

She wasn't especially willing to do either. And she was fairly sure she owed him an apology, and he looked furious. Most likely because he was hurt, if he truly thought she had meant what she was now sure he did.

None of that was improving her mood.

"Clean your ears," she said. Her tone was sullen, but most of the fire had dissipated. "I didn't say cripple. I said freak."

Edited 2014-02-07 20:30 (UTC)

"And how is that not the same thing?" Joker demanded.

"It isn't," Eleanor insisted. She put both hands over her eyes. Maybe if she squeezed her eyeballs completely into her head, this conversation would have never have happened. Maybe the entire past two days could disappear, if she pushed harder.

When that failed to happen, she had to make a decision. It was fairly straightforward one, which was not to say it was easy. Or, rather, easy to make, significantly harder to swallow and follow up on.

Back to easy again if she realized that Joker might actually count as a friend, at least as of one hour ago, and that that friendship was important to her.

Right.

"Jeff," she said, softly, taking a long breath with it. The nickname seemed wrong, for this situation. "I'm very tired, and I spoke rather carelessly. I would never speak that way of ..." Cripple was a harsh word. "... people with legitimate medical conditions. I should have realized that you would hear that, from what I said. I owe you an apology."

Which ... wasn't actually one, was it?

"I'm sorry."

Edited 2014-02-07 20:50 (UTC)

"Well..."

Okay, yeah. No better indicator that he was going a little overboard than a sincere apology. Joker let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, and winced a little. "I'm sorry I took it badly," he told her.

"So, then... what did you mean? You... is everything all right?"

"You don't need to apologize," she insisted, shaking her head. This was her fault; she was just relieved he'd stopped being angry. "I'm ... not like you. Or anyone else here. My genes are ... different."

That wasn't helping, either, was it?

"I have no idea if your condition is genetic, so let me add that I'm not talking about random mutations," she added quickly. "Either the superpower or disability variety. I mean splices and -- someone being made into something entirely else. I don't know if I still count as human."

"...Oh." Joker shifted uncomfortably, not really sure how to process that. "You, uh... You... Are you okay?" Every single time she'd shared something little about her past in classes, it had just served to add pieces to the picture of something sick and twisted that had been done to her. "I mean... Yeah, my disease is genetic. But you... You're talking illegal medical experiments, and twisted stuff like that..."

"I'm fine," she said, brushing it off. "I seem to be resenting it today, that's all."

She tried to drag her attention back to the doll he was holding, to work up some enthusiasm for fussing over it for an entire sleepless week.

"So I touch it and sing and it won't scream so much?"

Edited 2014-02-07 21:47 (UTC)

"Just... You know, be comforting. You're supposed to be trying to be it's mother." Joker gave her a worried look. "If, uh... If you know what that means."

"I'll presume it means someone other than my mother," she said, trying for a darkly humorous note. "It's not exactly old enough that I can reason with it, anyway."

She thought, suddenly, of Aunt Gracie, placing Eleanor on her lap while she brushed out those long, tangled braids. Singing quietly to herself during every stroke. The doll didn't exactly have hair long enough for that sort of thing, but ...

"It finds touch to be soothing," she presumed. "So I hold it, then?"

As Joker held out the doll again for her to take, he blinked at her in horror. "Your mother never held you????"

He wasn't sure how to ask the next question delicately, but it refused to stay unasked. "Was there any part of your childhood that wasn't utter shit???"

"I'm sure she must have," Eleanor decided, in her most dismissive tone. "I was probably too young to remember it, that's all. Aunt Gracie was lovely, when I stayed with her. It was just what was, that's all. I'm free now, so it doesn't do to dwell on it."

She snatched the doll out of his hands and tried to shape her own around it. The neck was weak, so fine, she'd prop up its head so it wouldn't snap. She still felt like an idiot fussing over a plastic doll.

Her eyes were blazing when they met his again. "I don't want your pity."

"No, no, this isn't pity," Joker lied. It's, uh, surprise. And shock. And horror and disgust at the people who hurt you. And, uh... I'm really amazed at how okay you seem."

Eleanor huffed. "You're writing this story in your mind that I'm some poor little girl, wronged by the cruel, uncaring world. That I made some brave, noble escape with trumpets blaring a soundtrack."

There was nothing noble about survival. That was as primitive as it got.

"The world isn't like that. Rapture was just reality, stripped down to its barest truths. Ugly, harsh, and distasteful. If I told you half of it, you'd never look at me the same."

His revulsion might be more welcome than his pity. It was hard to say.

"Oh, sure, because you strike me as the damsel-in-distress type. No, look, the story that I'm writing in my mind is that in the middle of this crazy city of yours collapsing around you under the weight of its founders' utter stupidity, you had horrible things done to you that, plus side, turned you into a superhero, and minus side, were completely brutal. That's not reality, that's catastrophe. And I'm not sure where your mother fits into the mess, but it's probably not good. How'm I doin' so far?"

Eleanor bit her lip and fussed more with the doll. Easier than meeting his eyes. If she didn't deny it, he'd know it was all true.

She must have been more open than she'd realized, in the bits and pieces she'd mentioned in class. Was that bad? No one seemed that upset about revelations about one another's lives. But they still didn't know the half of Rapture, and that was saying a lot.

Several seconds passed. She couldn't think of a plausible denial, and she was too tired to try very hard.

"I could split hairs," she admitted, "but not many."

She'd gained the powers themselves later than he realized, and the city had been crumbling for a long time. The rest was startlingly close.

"Mother thought the experiments were a smashing idea, so she restarted the program herself."

Edited 2014-02-07 23:32 (UTC)

To be fair, Joker was pretty perceptive.

"Your mother thought that... Your own mother did things to... Hang on. Your actual mother, or some evil overlord with the title of Mother? I'm trying to decide which would be more fucked up."

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NFB from here please!

Re: NFB from here please!