huruma_icon.gif magnes2_icon.gif

Scene Title Psycho-Therapist
Synopsis Huruma used to think the matriarchal bid was burnt out- turns out she favored that leg quite a lot. Magnes gets another bit of wisdom for it.
Date January 8, 2010

USS George Washington

A little earlier in the evening, Magnes has another large bottle of whatever the clear alcoholic liquid is that he keeps finding on the island. He sure can't read it, but he's drinking it like crazy. He seems to have finished around a quarter of the bottle so far, now wearing his NAVY t-shirt, blue jeans and white sneakers. He's leaning against the hall of the hall, crouched down slightly, no where near Claire and Huruma's room, but in the same general area they'd have to walk through. "You're right, Pen Pen, I don't need anyone!"

He drunkenly slurs to the confused Penguin staring across from him, just, staring, as if waiting for the strange human to do something. "I'm a robot pilot, damnit! And I make my own pizzas, and play piano, and make costumes, I'm talented! I can be a happy guy. What? No, I can't blame the government, the nukes were gonna blow everything up! But that's classified, so don't tell anyone I told you, alright? When I go home, I'm gonna make a pizza, and you know what? If new Claire doesn't want me, I'll go do it with Delilah! She can appreciate me! What? Pen Pen? No, I didn't think Superman Returns was that bad… You get that out here?"

At least the bird seems interested, but perhaps he is tired from being chased around when people see him. He just looks back at Magnes with beady little eyes and clicks his beak approvingly.

There at the end of the hall, Huruma turns the corner on her return; those OD pants are still worn, though that underarmour has a heather gray tank-top over it, the Navy emblem over the breast. She pauses as she enters the hall, getting the end of what Magnes is saying to the only one that seems to be listening. She could feel his drunkenness from afar, but only now does she take it into true account. The whiskers that have been stretched out search further into the young man's psyche. Huruma regards the penguin with a glance, and the bird just seems to be waiting for something.

"You never could hold your liqour, boy."

Overally he's feeling rather relaxed right now, though there's a clear cluster of underlaying pain, confusion, fear, anger, and all sorts of bad emotions he tries to drown in the alcohol. Magnes holds his bottle up, squinting at her with that one eye. "I'm not drunk, I'm just holding this for Pen Pen, right Pen Pen? See, this guy gets me." He points to her with his free hand, then slurs, "You're hot, and I'm not afraid to say it! You're like if Ororo had guns! Shooting guns, not boobie guns."

Huruma watches him talk back with a faintly reprimanding look in her eyes, blinking back to idle interest when his mouth filter cracks. If Claire saw this, he'd be plum out of luck. "What are you on about?" The tall woman decides to step closer to Magnes where he crouches, leaning down to take the bottle from him. "Th'last thing w'need is you passing out. Not that I care too much- jus'tha'I prefer t'stand on th'floor rather than in the …air." She isn't sure what would actually happen, but it seems like an excellent guess.

"I need that!" Magnes reaches, but even without her superior reflexes, his lack of any real depth perception plus drunkeness causes him to grab at the air, then fall on the side of his face with a groan. "I was starting to feel better about everything. That stuff really is good. Pen Pen's there for me, y'know, he knows the right thing to say. Right, Pen Pen?" The penguin waddles in a little circle, then stands still again, as if that's somehow the answer. "Right!"

"Start this now, an'you will neve'get out again." Huruma holds the bottle in her hand, sloshing what is inside before crouching down to loop an arm under one of his, to pull him back up off of his face. "That is a bird, Magnes. He has no idea what you are saying." The penguin does not look very put off by this, having next ducked his head under a flipper to preen at the oily feathers.

Magnes is not very heavy at all, likely some subconscious use of his ability in the midst of being so drunk. He stands there next to her, a bit wobbly, opening and closing his eye. "I just wanted to feel better. I'm tired of feeling so bad all the time, and thinking of how bad things are."

All he had to do was ask. Huruma may be unapproachable about most things Magnes does, but if there is one thing that she can advise- it is moods. Hand still hooked around his elbow, Huruma stands there in front of him, peering down with a cat-like blink. She does not comment on why he feels the way he does- therapy via words is not her forte. Instead, Magnes, despite the haze of drunkenness, will be able to feel that cluster under his alcoholic calm beginning to unknot. His anger goes first, as to her it feels the most raw.

Magnes sighs at the relief of one of those emotions loosening up, his red eye half-lidded as he continues staring inbetween her and the penguin. "I tried to kill Gabriel. I would have done it, but Kazimir stopped me. I shouldn't have tried to do it slow, I could have just pulled his heart out before he knew what I was doing." Rubbing his eye, he starts to yawn, lifting one foot up after the other so he can cross his legs and sit in the air. "I've been trying to do everything I can to make myself feel better, but maybe I'm being selfish. Even if it hurts 'cause she can't remember me, I should be trying to make Claire feel better… I'm a bad boyfriend."

"As much fun as tearing out hearts is-" Huruma remarks with her eyebrows lifting. "-I do not think you could do it the way y'would need to. Y'feel th'need t'explain yourself to'everyone. Even killers." As for the bad boyfriend part, she has little to say about that- that is not nor ever really was her forte either. He talks himself through it anyway. She only lets go of his arm when he is in the air, fingers slipping away almost too gently.

"If you need t'feel different while we are here- I suggest you come t'me first." The bottle is still in her hand as Huruma leans in closer to him. "Others do it- and have done it. Bette'than killing your liver."

"I just don't wanna feel bad. I don't know what to do after the mission…" Magnes stretches out in the air, starting to almost idly backstroke in small circles. "I could get to know her again, I don't mind trying, but it really hurts that everything we had is gone, just like that. What did we do to deserve it? It's like life is cruel, and sucks. Sometimes I think I don't even care if everything blows up, but then I remember I don't want my friends to die…"

"If it helps- I think that she feels very similar." Huruma watches him now, unsure of whether she should perhaps pull him down. Wouldn't be the first time. "Hurt, sad, lost, in pain, afraid, at some points. But she feels very determined- per'aps t'make th'best of what she has left, maybe t'get out of here alive." A hand goes out to grab Magnes by the pantleg. The penguin, however confused he may be, decides that this is not going to get him any food- and so the echo of his claws and webbed feet tick and pat down the hall while he goes.

"I will tell you this, Magnes." Serious time, pay attention. "You are lucky t'still'ave her around at all; not only b'cause of Rasoul, either. Th'island was a hard place. Make tha'fact your only thought on what'appened."

"She could be gone forever, I might not have been able to see her again…" This suddenly dawns on him, as if it never even crossed his mind. Magnes sits up straight when his pantleg is grabbed, crossing his free leg over the other as he looks down at her. "Where's the person that shot her? I'll kill him…"

Huruma stares back up at him from below her brow, pupils all but disappearing in such an effect. "Rasoul? I ate him alive." And that, sir, is the truth. It has ended up quite fortunate that Huruma has seemingly been the one to interfere or enact some manner of Magnes' revenge before they even were on the same boat. Literally, in any case.

"Wait, what?" Magnes tilts his head, even sticks a finger in his ear as if he misheard. "I don't understand. You eat people? But…" He starts to lower himself back to the ground to stand on his own two feet. "I thought your ability had something to do with feelings?"

Huruma knits her eyebrows at him this time, lips pursing. His obviousness astounds. "It does. I am an empath." Which can only mean she has another reason. Does he really feel the need to go further? She isn't sure he should.

"I still don't quite understand, but, if the guy who did this to Claire was eaten alive, then I think he got what he deserved…" Magnes stares at her still, cheeks flushed with alcohol still in his system, then looks down to her stomach. "I hope you didn't eat him raw, I mean… What am I saying? I should lay down. This mission is really crazy."

"Well, I daresay I did not'ave time t'cook him." Huruma even rolls her eyes, lifting her hand to nudge his chin up- and his eyes- so he will see her smile, white against her face. "I cracked him open like a lobster." And was smacked off of him like a dog. She helpfully leaves out that part.

"I think you did more than I could have, so, thank you." Magnes sounds almost sober when he says that. Nothing sobers a guy up like learning someone is a cannibal and ate someone who would have been your most hated enemy. "Could you, I don't know, put in a good word about me to Claire? I don't wanna keep talking to her and then ruin it…"

"Mmm. You're welcome." Her hand sways away from his face again, falling to her side. "I will mention …that you are very torn up, but that you wish t'do right by her. Does that work?" Huruma speaks her plan rather deliberately, lifting the bottle in her hand to inspect it further. Perhaps she is thinking of handing it back. Or taking some herself.

"Yeah, that's what I decided I'll do. I just can't give up on her and throw it all away. Memories or not, there's just… too much to give up on. Just because she can't remember what we've been through doesn't mean it didn't happen." Magnes frowns slightly, looking down at his feet. "And if she decides that she doesn't want me anymore, then, I'll have to accept it…"

"Good boy." Huruma squeezes a short blink out before upending the lip of the bottle to her mouth. She takes enough for the tang to register on her expression, and generally just enough for a normal person to get by on. Funny thing, Empaths- you can't change your own emotions around. "Mmngh. I don'know about this stuff. Where did you find it?"

"In someone's quarters in that bunker. I think that's the third bottle I found, but I don't know much about alcohol and just picked it up. I keep finding snacks too." Magnes shrugs at the bottle, leaning against the wall. "Thanks for talking to me, Miss Huruma. But um, can you tell me something? Do people really taste like Ostrich?"

"Don'call me miss, please." Huruma looks about to take another bite out of that bottle, before she glances to Magnes at his question. "Like nothing. They taste like nothing that I might compare with." A second drink is taken, before she closes her mouth and hands the bottle back to him. "Don'get curious, you'd make a'orrible cannibal."

"You can keep it, I don't wanna be an alcoholic." Magnes holds both hands up, shaking his head as he rejects the offer. "And gross, no way, I don't think I wanna try people. Women taste nice, but, not in a way that makes me wanna eat them… at least not in a literal sense." His cheeks start to flush, this time from embarassment, then he starts to head down the hall. "I think I'm gonna shut up and go find something to eat now. Thanks, Huruma."

Huruma will likely drop it off in the Galley later, but for now she keeps it in hand. "Oh, you know what a woman tastes like? Girls, maybe." She quirks a brow at his shoulders, leaning back on one leg to watch him go. "Have a good evening, Magnes. Bon appetit."

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