tramitem_net | (no subject)

Can I see them?

[he wants to see what they look like. Take pictures if he's able. See if he can ask a Doctor about the nature of them]

Probably.

Why? [ The general 'to get information' is a given, or nearly. But it is his hide. Literally. ]

To get information. Documentation. An opinion on what might have caused them. There's no reason to go into this as blind as we have been.

Okay, sure, but I want a copy of any documentation you make.

Yep. Soon as I can figure out how to duplicate it.

Should it be in person or would you be more comfortable over the network. I'd prefer in person but it's up to you.

Why do you need to figure out how to duplicate it?

Come over to Aviator Sports Arena. I'm still there for this evening.

No idea. All I know is to point the camera and press the button. [he's not what you might call savvy]

On my way. Be there hour, hour and a half.

[and he'll hang up... and show up promptly, looking around for his er... subject]

[He is still in skating clothes - and in fact still on skates, though the blade guards are on, when he meets who he assumes is Alec. ]

Alec? Hi. I'm Ben. Come on back and you can take photos - with my phone that I'll send to yours.

I don't want to seem paranoid, but I'm paranoid.

Ben. [he holds out his hand automatically to shake or not before following Ben back to wherever]

Crowley, if you don't mind. I don't like the name Alec. It's good to be paranoid this day and age. Especially with things like this.

How long have you had memories?

[He takes the hand and shakes it because manners.

Back wherever is the locker room that leads to the rink. He's got limited time here and a class of kids who will show off. Shirt off isn't exactly professional.

It's also where his phone is and once back there he heads to his locker to get it. ]

All right, Crowley it is.

A few months, give or take. You?

Only a couple. [he folds his arms and leans against the wall]

But one memory so far and no powers.

...You know I don't even understand the powers thing. Why is everything so sci fi? Fantasy? I mean it gives credence to the "other dimension" horse shit but then why can't I... make fire come out of my eyeballs or something.

He unlocks his phone and pulls up the camera, then hands the phone over to Crowley.

"I haven't gotten powers, either, but I definitely remember having them. I do not have memories of having a bunch of scars, and frankly it's lousy consolation."

With that he peels his T-shirt off over his head and turns his back to Crowley, so the photo can happen. There are definitely scars across his shoulders and upper back - faded to white, but raised ones. Lines about an inch wide and inches long, erratic and crossing over themselves.

He sucks in air between his teeth.

"That looks painful. I'm going to get a little closer but I won't touch you."

He doesn't know what he's looking at really. "And they just appeared overnight?" He's inclined almost to doubt him and half does. But who knew what these bastards were capable of.

He glances at the phone then.

"Er... Sorry. How do I get to the camera?"

"They're not painful now, but they sure as heck must have been when I got them."

He snorts, turns back and pulls the camera back up. "Just hit the spot you want to be in focus and then hit the white circle." At least he understood the 'figure out how to duplicate' now.

"Thanks." He carefully gets it to focus and snaps a few pictures. Then accidentally hits a button so there are sparkles as well. What the fuck. Unsure of what to do he tentatively hands the mobile back before folding his arms.

"Do you mind if I ask about your memories? Nothing personal just-- I suppose what powers you had quote unquote and if it felt... real."

He blinks at that last picture - the one with the effects - and puts the phone down to pull his shirt over his head.

"You can ask. I don't know what to tell you besides, yeah, of course they felt real." NOt that he believes them now, but that's not the point, is it? "I need your number or an email address to send these."

"Ah ...here..." He gives the man his number. "But...you said you had powers? What kind? And how much are you...convinced? I mean there are scars...swords and daggers appearing to others...People who claim to have abilities... They believe it without reservation. Isn't that strange?"

He sends the photos to Crowley's phone and then puts his phone back in his locker.

"Some of them, maybe. Depends on how much evidence they have that their experiences are real. After that no stranger than not wondering if I'm hallucinating scars."

"Aye..." He rubbed a hand through his hair. "I just don't understand why. It doesn't seem to make any sense, does it? Nothing about any of this is reality and yet... it's here..." He shook his head, wishing he could make heads or tails of it. Short of documenting everything he'd no idea what to do.

"I think," he said, slowly and thoughtfully, "that we're all struggling with this in various ways. And that for some of us, concrete evidence and hard lines about what our lives and reality are, are a means of coping. And that for others, the method of coping is to accept what is, and to try to roll with the punches. And that, overall, right now, anything that gets you through a day where your mind - and apparently body - decide to betray you is probably okay."

"That's fair. I suppose the only that can be done is finding out the truth." Though that wouldn't completely fix everything, it would help. He was sure it would.

"Thanks. For the ..." he gestures at the phone. "If anything strange happens-- let me know? When you're ready. Just for evidence's sake."

"If anything new happens, you'll be the... third, probably, to know." Yeah, he took time and counted it. At least he's honest.

"Fair." He didn't take it personally. "And if I find out anything-- more or less likewise." Though not because out of anyone he trusted to know first, but he still wasn't sure how to distribute anything he did find.

"Until then keep your eyes open."