Looking Out


huruma3_icon.gif lucille3_icon.gif

Scene Title Looking Out
Synopsis Huruma may regret becoming a role model one day.
Date November 27th, 2011

Bannerman Castle

Bannerman Castle has fallen into a murmur since the return of teams from the Arcology and Alaska; things have taken a step forward, despite the immensely potent losses that the Ferry has taken on. The injured have been stabilized over the last few days, Huruma included. At first her wound, better than it first appeared, needed some more intensive care from Megan. Now, at least, she is able to move around freely and rest as she needs to. She has taken to helping with less labor intensive things. Except for cooking. For some reason, nobody wants her helping in the kitchen. Such is the life of the reformed.

It leaves her time to do other things; logistics needs help in taking stock, especially in the armory, and upkeep is something that she can do without terrible fuss. It still doesn’t last, and in time Huruma finds herself without a task. Usually she would fill the time with something, but slowly she is realizing that so many of the things she does rely incredibly on her physical ableness. There are, at least, a few things she can do otherwise; Huruma left a short note on Lucille’s door some time ago to the effect of ‘I am running out of things to do if you want to find me for lessons’. It is the least she can do, with Lucille pulling her fair share of things like the rest of them. Her fair share of pains, too.

Rather than sit around doing nothing while she waits to see if Lucille gets the message, Huruma has parked herself inside of her room, a cozy— tight— space with a thick foam cot, a chair, a few crates stacked up, simple and unadorned. She has pulled over two of the crates next to the bed to set out an oval mirror. She’s removed her shirt in favor of tugging a threadbare towel around her neck as she runs the thin teeth of a battery-powered razor over the curve of one side of her head, slow but steady. The bandages below the black bra on her left side seem to need changing, the supplies for such a thing left in the corner. Megan must have dropped them off, having faith in Huruma to do it herself. But at the moment, it’s forgotten in favor of cosmetics. Her hair has been a dark lambscoat since Alaska, and only now is she getting to it. The aches and bruises everywhere do not seem to be making it an easy task. One side is almost finished, a fade cut taking form.

There is definitely a zen feeling about it.

A month ago if you had told Lucille that returning to the island would feel like returning home she would have thought you were crazy but here she has landed the forever wandering eldest Ryans daughter. While not sustaining life threatening injuries the wounds she has received mentally burn fresh. The return home had been a rough one and coming back to New York in the state it's in.. her mind often goes to her sister Delia, brother Russo and future? Nephew and Sister Kincaid and Ingrid. She longed to have them all together. A feeling that was beginning to consume her. Her father warned her of letting the fight she was now apart of take her over. So she decided to become consumed by family instead.

Finishing her morning run she comes to her room and the note left for her from her Aunt. A grin spreads on the young woman’s lips at the prospect of more lessons with Huruma. Her father's best friend. One of the few people Lu knows she could really trust. Lucille has grown to love and care for her. Looking up to her because she has always been seriously badass. Taking a moment to re-tie her dark hair back into a high ponytail she sets off for Huruma’s room.

Clad in a dark tank top and leggings, the only pair of sneakers she has left are worn especially with the terrain of the island which her shoes are not really meant for. Lucille Ryans knocks at the door quick and precise. Excitement about lessons mixed with concern for the older woman ebb from Luce as she opens the door and peeks her head in. Noticing Huruma in the middle of attending to her hair she smiles, “Heya, how you feeling?”

Her gaze takes in her bandages and the supplies that Megan left for the tall woman in the corner.

Huruma’s hands are steady even though her shoulders and arms have a certain weariness. While Lucille comes down the hall beyond the door, Huruma hums a tune quietly to herself. The sound is there when the young woman pokes her head in, finding no verbal resistance to her entry. She doesn’t look up from the mirror, though her eyes flit from door back to her tending.

“Lucille.” Her greeting is soft, for what it is. How is she feeling? “Everything is taxed. I could be much better.” Huruma’s answer decides on something fairly neutral. Not good, not bad. “And my head is filled with everything, as usual. Hff.” She lowers the razor partway to judge its path, now glancing fully to Lucille, taking her in from top to bottom with a slow look. While she does not need the girl to tell her, Huruma repeats it. “And you?”

“I think we could all be doing much better.” Is the young woman’s response as she takes a seat on one of the boxes staring up at the woman. “Got your note. I could use some teachings.” Lucille’s blue/gray eyes take in Huruma’s delicate process of shaving her head. The woman always looks like an Amazon goddess to her even when she's wounded.
“I want to show you stuff with my ability but..” first there's another matter on her mind. “That guy I brought over with Brian I don't think you've met him but he's changed now. Tahir, he got real banged up in the escape and I know he did like military shit before he was this super famous hot dude on TV.” Lu hasn't had the chance to really address Tahir’s issues with the leaving for Alaska and then the hard journey back. “We use to get naked like all the time but recently it's been kinda a no go like not the same.” She peeks a gaze up at Huruma again and looks sheepish.

“So.. if I used my ability to get his.. blood pumping.. in that place and get him in the mood ya know..” She waggles her eyebrows but looks curious, “Would that be like.. a bad fuck?” Being candid with Huruma is a blessing and a curse. She could never be as frank with her father and I mean what daughter would want to anyway. So Auntie Hooms gets the honor of boy talk.

Huruma is used to Lucille's openness with her by now, but there are still some things that tend to cause brain pains. Typically the things that she wouldn't dare bring up with Ben, or things that might be weird with her sister. It's a tough job, but someone has to do it.

Listening to Lucille talk about Tahir, Huruma is silent as she describes his background— and their background— but when Lucille gets to the last and inquires on the morality of it, Huruma's steady hand veers off of its track. The careful fade from skin to the dark shear on her crown is disrupted by a thin line from temple over the round of ear.
The razor gets put down with a faint click beside the mirror, and Huruma fixes Lucille with a rather perturbed look.

"Yes." Huruma's teeth click when she answers, confused to why Lucille has really thought about the validity of doing it. She purses her lips, sucking on the edge of her teeth. She sounds quite disappointed. "Never do something like that without consent."

Wincing at Huruma's mishap on her fade as well as her look and answer to her question the Ryans girl blinks and nods her head, “I mean of course I was just curious.. I mean I used it on him before but he was totally willingly. I actually missed lunch with dad that day.” She remembers and scrunches up her nose at the memory.

“It's weird this thing.. how do we stay good people when we can manipulate them to their core?” Lu leans her head back against the wall looking up at the ceiling. Hers and Huruma's abilities while different share a kinship in how they can affect their fellow man and illicit responses.

“When we were in that facility.. I reached out. It was liberating.. felt like a drug almost being able to accomplish that.” She gets a dark look in her blue eyes the mirror image of her father's. She bites the corner of her lip a tad anxious as she looks into the mirror that Huruma is standing in front of. Her face visible. “You did.. not great things once right?”
A question tentatively asked.

Huruma considers the reflection in the mirror for a moment, eyes partly on Lucille. She does give a small, tight smile when told Luce missed a lunch thanks to circumstance, amused. The next is more serious, and Huruma picks up the razor again, considering the question in abject silence.

Lucille is right, of course— they are alike, and unique, and when it comes to staying good, it proves difficult. Another long silence in front of the mirror is what comes first. Huruma’s eyes move back to studying her own face, pupils large in the dimmer light of the castle and lending her a less dangerous stare. Still, something about the quiet makes up for that.

“You have only known me as a ‘good’ person.” Huruma murmurs, the answer balanced out. She lifts the razor again, this time tracing over the mishap and instead of trying to erase it, carves a thin, stylized bolt from temple across the side of her head. Once it is there, she continues with the rest of what she was doing. The swap to her other hand is harder, and after just a few moments of it she pulls the mirror down to sit back on the bed, the angle of her arm nursing the pain in her side. “Whatever good means.”

“As long as I’ve had my gift I have used it to manipulate others. Before all of this, especially so. Though I never used it in a way such as you ask about with your Tahir, I still used it in similar fashions. Getting what I wanted. Making people desire me. Putting my enemies down. Becoming addicted to the taste of certain emotions…” Huruma watches Lucille out of the corner of her eye, half-lidded. “Once. Twice. Always.” There is a pause, and something of amusement once more. “Has your father ever told you about me? How we met?”
Nodding along with her aunt her eyes widen as she sees Huruma turn her mistake with the blade into stylish design. Impressed Lucille grins a bit until Huruma begins the story of how she use to use her ability, “It sounds like you had to survive too..” she offers with a sad expression on her face.

Luce blinks at the question from Huruma and she gives the other woman a sly grin, “I mean dad doesn't like to get into details. He just kinda got into his past back at Hollis’ cabin.” She thinks for a moment, “I made him snore. I figured he needed the rest.” Her lips form a rogue grin as she leans forward looking at Huruma. “What's the story Aunti-.. Auntie Huruma.”

She cannot believe she just outed her name for Huruma. Well..

She did have to survive. The first reply is simply a nod in affirmation as she runs over her head with the razor with a little more hurry; the ache seems to make her want to finish faster. At least this time she seems to know exactly where to go.

That Ben waited until the cabin to explain some things isn't a shock to her. Neither is Lucille making him sleep. There are some moments where the rule of allowance doesn't matter as much. The nickname has Huruma looking up from the mirror, brows arched across to Lucille. A pause turns into a laugh, a velvet sound from the bottom of her chest. Oh, so that is how it is?

"He never wanted you girls to know a lot, I suspect." A few tentative runs of the razor, and then she is brushing her scalp with a palm. Looks better. "But now it cannot be helped. His position was to locate people like us. Trap them, for rerelease or imprisonment. That is how I met him. He and his partner tracked me down in Angola, in, ah…. ninety-seven?" Huruma's voice lowers, thoughtful. It's been a while since she had to think about the date. For the most part she only remembers the fight. "I was about twenty-eight, in any case…"

As Auntie Huruma laughs at the nickname Lucille looks sheepish and waves of light embarrassment could be felt by the emotional manipulator. “Yeah.. I think he's finally given in to the fact that I'm a part of this.” A part of the fight, a part of this.. struggle. No matter how hard he had tried to stop his daughter from plunging in head first.

Leaning forward at the details Huruma has started to give her about the day she met her father she looks hungry for more. She grips her knees lightly her head tilted to the side. Only a few years older than Lucille is now when Huruma has first met her father. “I'm assuming.. that first meeting didn't exactly go well..”

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to see that Huruma had been through something in her life. Lucille had always taken note of the woman’s strong stature not just outwardly but inwardly. Her mind wanders for a moment envisioning what it must have been like for her father and Huruma. Not exactly friends but closer to enemies and morphing to a close camaraderie. “You guys work so well together as a team now though.”

Huruma shakes her head and mouths a 'nooo' when Lucille correctly assumes that it didn't go well. Not at all. The older woman collects the towel around her neck, folding it up for a wash later on to avoid a mess. She takes a moment then to inspect the outside of her bandage, feeling the anticipation from Lucille. It's sort of a gripping story for her, it seems. Wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue, Huruma lifts a somewhat gentler look to Lucille. "Yes. We do. And I much prefer it that way, it seems…"

"They trapped me in the field. At that point I did not have much. Skinny as a rail. Desperate. So when they came for me, I killed his partner. I tried to kill him, too. But he was stronger and I wanted to escape." It brings her less joy than it used to, eyes watching the agent's daughter with a heavily lidded expression. "You've seen the scar he has… here?" Huruma lifts her hand to Lucille's shoulder, fingers pressing a small area between neck and joint. "Me." The one that's vaguely… bite-shaped.

Blink. Blink. Blink.

“No fucking way!”

Lucille looks down at the spot Huruma is pressing at and her eyes widen. If it wasn't wildly inappropriate she would be going cooooool But such things are not good. The mention of the death of her father's partner is sad but the whole biting her father in the neck story is just so fucking crazy. She waves her hands in the air.
“If you guys can get through that then.. shit there's hope for any relationship.”

"I suppose you may be right." Huruma laughs again, expression morphing into something resembling a burst of giddiness, complete with a smile that brushes at the corners of her eyes. "I know that the memory still… makes him cautious, but…" Huruma pauses, just for a moment, briefly searching Lucille's eyes. They really do sort of match with Ben's, don't they?

"It's complicated. We are complicated." The hand on Lucille's shoulder moves up to pat her cheek twice before its owner stands to pull the bag of bandage supplies onto the bed beside her. She soon begins the process of carefully removing the one she's wearing; Megan's fixes to Brian's work are much neater, stitching the line of an entry wound back together at the flesh of her side. No infection, thankfully. Lucille’s father wasn't as lucky with his wrist.

Snickering Luce nods as Huruma goes to perch on the bed across from her. “I'm not sure my father has relationships of any other kind.” She laughs, a crinkle in the corner of her eyes. As Huruma begins the undressing she waves her hand, “May I?” And before Huruma can say yes or no she grabs the bandage supplies and kneels next to the woman. She is indeed lucky her injury wasn't worst. Lucille closes her eyes briefly and they snap open the irises flaring that golden color.

“I've gotten better at holding the effects of ability. It's like.. flexing a muscle.” As she says this Huruma would feel any pain she's feeling fade away like a wave washing off the beachy shore of the island they are on. A feeling of excitement would filter into the other woman’s senses as Lucille grins broadly pleased with her efforts.

"Fair enough." Huruma's breath comes out on a laugh, and she inhales through her nose as she pries the last bit of old bandage off. She does not seem to shy away when Lucille kneels down next to her to help with the new one— just watches with a careful air even as the young woman reaches out with her ability. Huruma did not ask for it, but the tightness in her brow and the tension up her spine shivers away with the faintness of prickles over her skin. Huruma's own eyes close in response, and she sits there to bask in the warmth of numbing chemicals and shed nerves for a short time. The excitement is also a welcome addition.

"Ngh. Thank you, Lucille." Huruma's voice has even lost a bit of edge, relaxing with the girl's help. "I do not like to take from what little stores Megan keeps…"

Whenever Luce gets to helping replace the bandage, she definitely gets a good look at things. The armor she was wearing helped, of course, but still a number. The thrumming of Huruma's heartbeat is a mark of her stress over the injury— a mix of frustration, a bit of guilt— and it registers on her face while Lu assists.

“Of course.” Is said softly as Lu concentrates on redressing Huruma’s bandage and keeping her ability going. The wound is given a worried look but she has seen worst and she's grateful Huruma isn't one of them. It's gotten easier and easier the more she uses it. “I've been helping sometimes down at the Infirmary.”

Is said as she wraps a layer around Huruma’s torso working quickly but gently. “It's been.. very good practice. I'm learning a lot.” It would seem the student has been taking her mentors lessons and using them thoroughly in the field. “Lucky for you I'm not as easily tapped out as Megan’s supplies are.” A wicked grin crosses the woman’s lips.

She is almost done when her eyebrows raise at a memory. “So.. back at the cabin..” she looks over her shoulder because you just never really know when her father would turn up. “I mean first of all DANCING?!” She snickers as she finishes the last of wrapping the bandage around Huruma. “Dad would kill me if he knew I saw but then again he's snored and been laughing and.. I'm not sure. He's different. I mean Alaska has fucked us all up 50 ways sideways but,” she sits on her heels and clasps her hands. “I'm happy he's getting to enjoy some life.”

Huruma gives Lucille a small, affirming nod when she says she has been helping out at medical. There's a sense of pride there, given the circumstances. She puts down the salve and holds the thick gauze in place as Lu wraps her middle up with the fresh bandaging.

"I am glad for that. You would do well in learning all you can from Megan." Huruma's smile ghosts on and off, watching Lucille's hands. As the other woman starts speaking and looks over her shoulder, one of Huruma's brows dip and she looks past her, idly curious until Luce outs with it. Her eyes light up, first, but then adopt a suspicious narrow. "You took your time whipping that out, didn't you?" Huruma teases, a huff leaving her nose.

"Different." Huruma murmurs, gaze leaving Lucille when she parrots the word. "Maybe." Or he's just the same, and only now lets people see it. Both? "How long were you there…? I had my field down… you sneaky little thing."

“Just enough to see some dancing.”

Lucille waves her hand in front of her face and snickers as she backs away trying to ward off Huruma if she comes to swipe at her. “I was bored!” She grins and looks as she bounces to her feet. “I mean I was just using the skills you've taught me to be a sneaky thing.” She teases to the woman and she settles against the wall now. Eyes still burning that amber gold.

“I'm really happy you made it back. Both of you. Or almost both of you.” She swings her hand in a hanging motion in reference to her father’s new predicament. “You think.. being one handed is gonna have him slow down with the ladies?” An eyebrow arched. “I feel like the parent is usually the one dealing with a slutty kid not the other way around.” Candid.

There is certainly a temptation to reach out and give Lucille a little pinch, but it passes, and Lu's warding seems to save her from Huruma.

“You’re right.” Huruma has been teaching her— it's her own fault for letting her guard down while at the cabin. It was a good place for it, even so. Huruma briefly closes her eyes, opening one as Lucille relaxes against the wall. She's about to say something nice and genuine on the matter of making it back— but the rest of Lu's words have her lifting a hand to scrub at her head. Fingers brush at the fresh cut, mouth pursing.

"Tch." What else to say? It is an amused sound nonetheless. Huruma's hand drops into her lap again, and she raises both brows to Lucille. Her heartbeat lifts a touch, and the warmth moving up the cove of her neck is something she cannot seem to help; for Lucille's ability, watching it creep up speaks volumes. "Are you calling your father one, then?"
“Well I mean quack like a duck..” a nervous smiles is given to the door behind her. Dad’s not on the other side is he? Her ability lets her know that the coast is indeed clear and she relaxes.

“I'm all for his happiness and staying active or whatever but just like Jesus the whole getting Nicole pregnant thing.” Lucille throws her hands up, “I mean it's beyond awesome with the kids here Benji and Ingrid.” Who she.. still has not met. “But godamnit it the world is practically ending again and my dad doesn't practice safe sex. What was he thinking?” A laugh escapes the woman as she stares across at the woman.

“I don't know. I just want us to all make it and have a large dinner together.” Well multiple. If Lucille had her way the Ryans would have a compound they all lived in. Safer together.

Huruma would probably refrain talking about this kind of thing if he was standing on the other side of the door. As far as she knows, she isn't expecting a visit either. Lucille is fine. Huruma's hands clasp the sides of the cot, and she stifles a laugh.

"To his credit I do not believe he knew about that. Still…" She scrubs at her head again, a bundle of something uncomfortable sitting in her gut. Lucille feels it in heartbeats and temperature. "Maybe he needs the banana lesson again. Are you volunteering?" Huruma's laugh seems to shove out the inner thoughts, replacing them with a spell of levity as she mimes said lesson with her hands.

"I know you do." Huruma tests the tightness of her new wrap with a thumb. "I feel the same."

A wide shake of her head from side to side. “N.O.” She covers her face with her hands and snickers even more stomping her feet. “BUT!” She raises a finger and waves it in Huruma’s direction. “He has a perfectly suited partner to do that deed.” Her look a pointed one towards Huruma.

The rapid changes in her heartbeat and temperature gives Lucille more insight into her mentor and boy is it thrilling to know this side of her. They have grown close, yes, but she feels her. “You know.. I have a feeling. We’re gonna he just fine.”

Lucille turns it back on her, and Huruma just narrows her eyes.

"You were the one complaining about his responsibility—" Her lips curl, though, laugh lingering as she rubs a knuckle down the bridge of her nose. A moment later she is playfully swatting out at Lucille's finger. "Tch… 'perfectly suited' she says." As entertaining as trying to tease Lucille about it is, maybe she's less good at taking the dishing. "I hope your feeling is right.”

“What do you mean perfectly suited?!” Lucille’s eyes go wide and her hand claps to her mouth away from Huruma’s playful swat. The notion of her father and Huruma hooking up never really crossed her mind. Huruma would eat her father. But if it's true? The feelings of shock and astonishment radiate off of her with a whisper of satisfaction. It's not like she ships them necessarily or anything but her dad could end up with a whole lot worse than Huruma.

“I-I-I..” She is baffled.

“Excuse me? You said—” Huruma leans back, brow furrowing across at Lucille. Secondhand embarrassment seems to go right along with the misunderstanding, and then Huruma is studying the girl with a note of surprise. Oh, no, that’s not- so maybe this one is not what she meant.

It’s hard to catch Huruma in something as silly as a misinterpretation of banter— but somehow Lucille has done it.

The taller woman stands up too fast, features in a hard glare, heartbeat a furious fluster, blood pressure swaying upwards. Lucille was in that dream they all shared; the same one that coaxed her silent feelings out into the open. The fluster is not misplaced, at least.

“I thought you meant— it’s not like— hhh— “ Huruma’s deep voice cuts off, and she holds a hand at her side, wincing before she abruptly sits back down. Whatever she was going to say gets lost in the hurt Lucille has hidden; her head knows it is there, and a little peeks through, enough to get her to quiet and buckle. Enough to get her to breathe deeply and let Lu’s ability take over again.

The laughter hurts and tears are falling. Lucille has fallen over onto the floor. Her eyes widen as she shakes a bit and her ability flickers along with her eyes the field holding Huruma’s pain at bay subsiding for a moment before she regains control and composed herself.

“I really. Was confused.”

Luce looks at Huruma’s face and she looks sheepish in apology for the brief return of pain. “Damnit.” She grins softly to the other woman and puts a hand on her leg across from her. “You are literally the best.” The change of pace is one of gratitude. “Thank you for looking out for him at every turn.” Her eyes hold her aunt’s. “He needs you.”
Huruma looks on at Lucille’s delight as if the girl had just dumped a bucket of water over her head. Sour, even. It passes.

“Let us call it a miscommunication…” She decides, still flustered with thoughts, dark hands gripping the edge of the bed when Lucille reaches out to her. The compliment definitely gets her places, though, and Huruma’s mouth purses with serious thoughts on forgiveness. It’s one thing to tease, but fall over laughing? Hff. Her mood shifts under Huruma’s listening, and so does Huruma’s posture.

“I know I am the best.” Lucille had to know that was coming. Huruma lays her hand atop the paler one at her leg, a grin flashing briefly before calming into a thin smile, ivory eyes meeting Lucille’s. “Oh, yes, I know he does.” Huruma’s voice is softer, the velvet of it reassuring. “…Of course I look out for him. He is my friend, before anything else. God only knows how this happened, hn?” Huruma’s other hand reaches up to playfully pinch at Lu’s cheek.

A warm smile crosses the woman’s face and she grins over at the older woman. She snickers as her cheek is pinched. “I guess the big guy upstairs had a plan.” Not religious at all but Lucille has to wonder. The way they're all connected and how to weave in and out of each other's lives feels like nothing short of destiny really.

“A big plan.”

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