Participants:
Scene Title | Pack Up Your Life |
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Synopsis | Raquelle and his girls are located |
Date | October 17th, 2011 |
As a little boy, he was too white and too foreign. Barely Japanese. Mostly Gaijen.
As a little boy, he was too feminine and too asian. Are you Mexican or what?
As a young man, he was too gay and too weird. Hard to place. Theater Freak.
As a young man, he was too gay, too goth, too different. Going to Hell. Of the Devil
As a man, he was gay, euroasian/hispanic, goth/punk, flamboyant, fierce, and over giving a damn. Then he was a father.
His entire life, Raquelle Jesus Yoshi Cambria has had to fight and adjust to being different and being okay with different. He watched the world go through different shifts and growing my leaps and bounds to become more accepting. He had hope. A world where his mixed daughter and his adopted daughter would eventually live in a world where loving whoever you wanted, looking however you wanted and being raised by people who love you regardless of who they love and who they are would be normal.
New York. He made it there and his life was turned upside down. He fell in love, he got his own business, and then he experienced so much loss and pain in watching the darkness of the world weaving itself into the blanket of reality draped over his tiny family. Its a family held together by love and hope. His daughters have had to hear and see so much negatively focussed once more towards people who are different and he has tried so hard to shield them with the force of his own being from the attacks targetted towards them for being different. Evolved. DNA has Evolved and as a result…Society has Devolved and this is the reality that they live in.
His better half is probably working and the girls are tucked away in bed, and that leaves the hairdresser settled down at his dining room table. Bills and Contracts littering the surface, an envelope peeking open with cash and airline tickets within. Black hair sleep tousled and covered with a dark blue bandana, Raquelle is slumped over the table with his face buried in folded arms wearing a pair of dark blue and black sweats and a thin black tank-top, feet bare and his sparkly black toe-nails match his sparkly black nail polish as he's passed out now, drooling on the itemized insurance list for the Cambria Salon and Day Spa.
There's a knock at the door. It's not forceful by any means, more tentative if anything.
"Hey, Raquelle." A familiar voice rings out from the other side of the door. Another two hesitant knocks.
"It's Janet. From next door."
Indeed it is Janet from next door as the peep hole would reveal. A woman in her late forties, dressed warmly and standing somewhat nervously with her arms hugged around herself tightly to keep in the warmth.
"Raquelle, are you there? It's real cold out here. Something happened. We need to talk."
There's soft snort and snuffling sound as Raquelle's head jerks up at the knocking at his door. Lashes fluttering as he looks around and then hears the two knocks. He rubs his eyes and yawns, pushing his way up to his feet and frowning a bit. "Just a sec' honey!" Is called out as he smooths down his shirt, making his way to the front door with another yawn.
The door swings open after a moment, revealing the tall man who currently wears only a bit of eyeliner but his freckles are exposed and he does look like he just woke up. "Hm? Hey babycakes, what's up? Are you okay?" He steps aside invitingly.
As the door opens Janet's already nervous form seems to deterioate even more. Her features drop, sullen guilt written all over her features. Her eyes sadly lift up to Raquelle's. "I'm so sorry." Is forced out, the words sounding brittle and broken, laced with pain. The woman brings her hands up to cover her mouth, eyes welling up with tears before she quickly turns her back to Raquelle.
But there is no time to question her, or investigate what's going on.
"Mister Cambira."
A beefy gloved hand slams against the door, a man appearing from the edge of Raquelle's vision outside. Dressed in black the blonde, bearded man pushes the door wide open, standing in its frame.
With the door pressed open it is easy to see more men forming up behind him, Janet being lost in the crowd heavily armed men and women. No uniform to speak of. They wear black, have body armor, and there are a whole lot of guns. The most disturbing thing for all of them is that every single one of them are wearing a sturdy pair of headphones.
"Now, Mister Cambria." The man in the doorways begins saying. "I'm Lieutenant James Temple. And, I would like you to promise you're not going to make me do anything silly, alright? I don't want to put these headphones on, it could mess up my hair. I'm sure you understand. But all those folks out there,"
He leans in, his voice going to a whisper.
"They know me pretty well, and they're not going to like me acting out of character."
It happens faster than Raquelle can react, he's already moving his hands to try to push the door shut when the 'I'm so sorry' comes out. He hears his name and then he sees that hand. He takes a few steps backwards and his lips part before his gaze flicks from one person to the next, noting the headphones. Just like that, the whisper sounds like a bad riff in his ears or maybe its the sound of his heart beating out of his chest that makes each word feel like it is scraching against his ear drums.
Blue eyes are more grey with the storm of emotions brewing within the tall man and he holds up his hands slightly and shakes his head. His lips twitch with insults just itching to roll off his tongue but there are guns and his daughters are inside. He forces a smile that does not reach his eyes. "How can I help you today officer?"
"That's right." Temple smiles wickedly at Raquelle's question.
"Hey. I just want you to know." His arms fold over his chest, his shoulder going against the doorframe. "Before we go any further. This is a very hard thing to navigate. And thus far, you are doing it right." His grin is wolfish as he shoves off the doorframe and steps into the house.
"Oh. I'm no officer. Well I am. But not like how you're saying." He explains casually as he steps in and around Raquelle. "You mind if we come in? We're going to come in." Two men and one women from outside march with little to no sound into the foyer of Raquelle's place as the Lieutenant himself wanders the grounds, curiously poking his head around.
The two men at the door hold automatic weapons in both hands, watching Raquelle stoically. The woman has a sidearm and seems to be watching Cambria with a bit of a smirk.
Meanwhile, Temple is beginning to snoop about.
Stepping aside to let the other two enter, before he does a doubletake at Temple's entrance, scrambling forward to try to get in front of him. "Okay, if you're not an officer then where the fuck is your warrant? I mean, I'm a sucker for a man in charge but I know I have some goddamn rights here." Raquelle does not stammer or let the fact that his heart is in his throat choke him.
"Sir, Sir…wait. My babies are sleeping right now, you are going to scare them." He tries another tactic, trying to keep his gift at bay as panic swirls in his core.
"Don't got one." Temple says easily, distractedly, somehow able to maneuver his way deeper into Raquelle's home while the homeowner does his best to intercept his path.
"Oh!" Temple's gloved hand slides over the table, and over the envelope with cash and plane tickets. "Plannin' a trip?" The envelope is brought up in front of him before dropped back onto the table.
As Raquelle mentions his babies, Temple gives a slow nod. "Now you're right. We don't want to scare em. So we'll go ahead and wake them up, alright? We'll get them already to go." The Lieutenant holds up two fingers at the soldiers at the door and motions them at the stairs. From outside another man steps in while the woman and one of the men start making their way upstairs.
Though as they do, Raquelle's wrist is grabbed by Temple.
Pulling Raqulle in close the man locks his gaze with him, getting a feral look on his features. "Now this is the time. You have a move? You gettin' ready to use your power? This is the time. Decisions need to be made now. What's happening." He points with his free hand to the soldiers plodding up the stairs. "It's happening. Now. Are you going to make it worse? Or not?"
Its a slow motion nightmare for Raquelle, his lips were parting to reply to the comment about the envelope. "My daughters haven't seen their grandparents in a while." Even as his hands are slipping the cellphone off the counter, idly pushing a key and speeddialing 'B-Baby'. The phone slips from his grasp and clatters to the tile of the kitchen floor. This is when he sees the soldiers go up the stairs, and his eyes widen as he yells. "NO! Don't you DARE!"
His surge forward is aborted by the grab of his wrist from Temple and his head whips around. Grey eyes meet the feral gaze of the other man and his breathing speeds up. "Oh you motherfu-" He's cut off with the panicked screams and crying coming from the 10 and 6 year old up the stairs and all at once his ability pushes past his own restraint.
It is happening now. He's calling out towards the stairs, his ability wrapping around his words to send waves of reassurance and peace along the tones to try to calm his girls. "Its okay! Daddy's here, let the nice people help you…its okay babies, its okay…" He keeps repeating over and over again.
The soldiers move past as if Raquelle had said nothing. Disappearing up the stairs, doors opening.
Raquelle's anger intensifies the grin on Temple's features, locking an intense gaze between the two men. Pulling him closer by the wrist until their heads practically touch. Finally when Raquelle starts using his ability to calm his children Temple's demeanor softens. "There.. There we go." His hand raises up, grasping the other man by the shoulder. Giving a soothing rub. "There we go. That was it. That was the worst part of this. That crazy fucked up moment where you have to decide." The wrist is let go.
"Mister Cambria, your decision was the right one."
Contiuing to give a soothing rub to the man's shoulder, Temple then lets go and gives him a clap. "It's all downhill from here." Temple takes the envelope, going to lean against the counter. The bills are taken out as he looks up distractedly at Raquelle.
"Two suitcases per person. No pets. Twenty minutes." The cash in the envelope is taken out and slid into a pocket. "Go pack up your life, Mr. Cambria."
The hairdresser's body trembles under the touch from the man who's made his Lifelong Shitlist, and his wrists clench and unclench before he raises his voice to make sure he can be heard clearly. "Lieutenant James Temple." Raquelle reigns his ability back in with a full body shudder, the glare he shoots Temple is full of promises he knows he cannot deliver on at this moment. He distractedly rubs his wrist before bending down to pick up his phone. There's another glare before he's making his way up the stairs.
"Hola, Mi Amor…" The message starts in Spanish, as he speaks softly, phone on speaker phone. The sound of crying, sniffling, confused barking, lots of 'Daddy, what is happening' 'Daddy!' and so on can be heard as he he continues speaking in Spanish. "They have come for us. I wish you were here because you would know what to do. I am glad you are not because I draw my courage from your own and my daughters might end up orphans - OI! Puta! She can get it her self, get your fucking hands off my daughter!"
BJ is slightly older and at 10 has seen more than most 10 years have but the occasional soothing reassurances from her father keep her from freaking all the way out. Diana, as 6 has to be picked up and placed on a hip as suitcases are pulled out and clothing and belongings and such are shoved in. Emergency Backpacks are already packed. And like a Mama Bear, Raquelle is quick to snarl out insults and cusses but they are packing.
"Sorry love, the dogs will need to be taken care of. Look at their collars for me. There's a question I wanted to ask you and I understand if you say no." Diana is set down and pushed to BJ as they work on pulling on boots and coats. Raquelle is kneeling down slipping something small, circular and metalic from his pocket and connecting it to a collar. It dangles there, a silver engagement ring engraved with pawprints, pretty inconspicuous. "But if you say yes -" And the Beeeep of the voicemail cuts him off.
He has enough time to see to his own packing. Time to pack up his life.