10. messages + open spam

[orderfromchaos]

[Private to Elsa]

How do you feel about working on your powers wth Rogue?


[Spam for Helena]

[He talks to Cosima first, waits a day or two before turning up. It's unfair, maybe, using his presence - but his mirror self did it, and he wants the chance for his words to have at least as much weight now.]

Hey. Bucky said it was okay with him for me to visit. Is it okay with you?


[Open spam]

[Sometimes, Dillon just lies on his back on the deck, staring up for a few hours at a time, trying to understand the things his powers are trying to tell him about the stars, about whatever strange ether they're passing. If he understood it, really got what it was and how it worked, he's pretty sure he'd be able to get to the place between, with the red sands and strange ruins and Deanna's body. If he could just - reach.]

Comments

[deck spam]

[routemistress]

[It's not actually Iris that finds Dillon on deck: it's Elvis, who's deeply concerned to find a person lying on his back on deck. This is not how a people do! He puts a large, wet nose into Dillon's face, perhaps to check that he's breathing, perhaps just for the sake of an easy facelicking.]

...Dillon? You all right, lovey?

[deck spam]

[orderfromchaos]

Ack!

[It's so weird, coming out of it, because there's so much and it's so strange and he does get a lot of it, in the moment, but he can't ever translate it into anything human enough to remember. He curls up a little, laughing, shaking his head, trying remember gravity as orientation instead of another ubiquitous field, trying to think in English instead of pure math and the antimath of in-between.]

I'm alive! I'm alive!

[He's rubbing Elvis's ears rather than pushing him away, startled back into his own skin, his own two hands.]

[deck spam]

[routemistress]

[If it had been any other teenager, she'd have assumed ...well, teenagers do weird shit. With Dillon, though, she rather thinks his weird is of a less pedestrian order.]

You know, I can see their timelines. Like, that little white dwarf down there, it's long gone before that big blue one gets going. It's only from 'ere we can see 'em together.

What are they telling you?

[deck spam]

[orderfromchaos]

They know they come back.

[There's something - aching and contented at once. Part of him is still a star, part of him feels their pulsing magnetic glissandos as familiar, like a newborn who knows no languages but recognizes the cadence of its mother's tongue. Stars recycle themselves more directly than carbon-based lifeforms, dust and fuel, fire and soul. They watch it happen, birth themselves out of their coagulated dead. They know. He wonders if Mentarsus-H knew she would take a triple-left turn onto the little blue rock next door. But he's too human, or perhaps too fragmented; he can't remember.]