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Post by Alexandria Lang on Nov 20, 2009 22:12:33 GMT -5
Trust no human.
In her younger years, Alex had been of the opinion that this phrase summed up everything someone would need to know in order to survive in the world. Even in recent years, sticking to this simple rule had saved her time and time again from people that would have taken advantage of a young and disabled woman. Only recently had she even dared to let the rule slip from her mind, and look what that had cost her.
Leaning heavily on her cane, Alex studied the dark, oppressive wall before her, her eyebrows meeting in the middle, her jaw set. It would be ridiculous to even consider any plan that involved scaling the barrier, not only due to her physical shortcomings, but due to the simple fact that there would certainly be precautions in place to keep the prisoners inside. Considering that the prisoners - no, most of the prisoners, she was the exception - were powerful and potentially dangerous mutant freaks, the precautions would likely be lethal to someone such as herself.
She let loose a sharp exhale, bowing her head just slightly as she shifted her glance to her feet. The clothing she had managed to acquire in her time in this compound was starting to reek, and she would be damned before she was to attempt clumsy communication with the residents to remedy the situation. If she was to trust no human, than she certainly wouldn't trust the creatures that lived here. Alex supposed that she would break eventually, when the need for hygiene, food and shelter came to be beyond anything she could scavenge for herself, but for now? To hell with the lot of them.
The woman turned to move away from the barricade, clutching her makeshift cane tightly. She had seen a river not too far away, and as far as cleanliness came, it could certainly-
This train of thought was cut short with a loud crack and a tremor up her right arm. Before she could react, the lower half of her cane had abandoned the top, launching the weight that had just been upon the wood into her right leg. A thick needle of agony pierced her knee, an explosion of wind emerging from her lips as she tumbled into the field of wild flowers.
For a long moment, Alex lay with her face to the ground, sharp, whimpering breaths breaking from her as she waited for the pain to die down. It had been years since she'd felt this; she had always been so careful with her movements, making sure that as little strain was placed on her ruined knee as possible. She was one of the lucky few that didn't have to deal with pain on a chronic basis, but even the lucky ones had their bad days.
When it had died down to a dull throb, she pushed herself onto her elbows, surveying the broken device. There was no way in hell she'd be able to repair it out there. She had only one choice; crawl to a location where she could acquire a new one. Demeaning as it was, what other option did she have? She gritted her teeth, straightening her back, and started to push herself forward on the filthy ground.
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Post by Jett Tsar on Nov 24, 2009 23:05:42 GMT -5
Jett whistled a merry tune as he made his way along the Northern Barrier. He didn't walk the perimeters of Freakopolis for any specific reason except to see what it was that kept those who wanted to leave out. Personally, staying in this place for the rest of his life was a pleasing notion. Why anyone would waste their time trying to break free was beyond him.
His thoughts skittered to Sulley, an intimidating man who he'd found testing the barrier a few days ago. Poor guy. Jett sympathized. Not that he'd thought on the guy often. He just happened to come to mind.
Indeed, Jett was out and about this fine afternoon merely for the purpose of being out. He could, therefore he would. Not that fresh air was hard to come by in Freakopolis or anything, but stepping away from civilization was always a nice breather. Well, that and the chances of running into someone outside of the market place and fountain was still very high. There was always someone else taking time to his or herself. Chances leaned towards the being being a woman, seeing as it was the female of their species that had tendencies to want to be alone.
Then again, who knew how women worked? No one! Not any more than Jett, anyway.
A breeze tousled his hair and he leaned back his head to let the locks flurry out behind him. One watching might think there was a camera somewhere that he was aware of and modeling for. In actuality, he came by it natural.
Midst his relatively quiet journey a faded sound called attention to his ears, stopping his muscles and perking his ears in the form of a stretched neck and wide eyes. The sound was heard again off to the right, and without further ado he veered in order to come across whatever it was making this----
Sweet mother of swollen bellies.
Jett jumped in surprise at the sight of a woman with her face to the ground. At first he suspected a man beneath her, but then she sat up and began to examine something beyond his line of sight. Feeling intrusive, he cleared his throat, hoping not to scare the woman away.
"Ma'am I can't help but notice you're dangerously close to an ant hill." It was true.
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Post by Alexandria Lang on Nov 25, 2009 0:05:13 GMT -5
Alex immediately froze at the sound of a man’s voice, her fingers stopping just short of the ground as her head slowly tilted upward to confirm what her ears had just told her. Her eyebrows met in the middle as she scrutinised the newcomer, her pulse thundering in her ears from both the sudden realisation that she was not alone and the amount of space she had just dragged herself over. Reflexively and futilely, her muscles tensed, as though fighting or fleeing were even options in this particular situation.
This was just what she needed. He was obviously not a guard, so it was safe to assume that he was another one of them; a mutant. A freak. And here she was, vulnerable and almost immobile in the ridiculously humiliating position of “cripple crawling for safety.” There was no way that it was even remotely possible for her day to get any worse.
All too late, she remembered the anthill.
A gasp escaped her as she saw one disappear into the sleeve of her outstretched arm, and with the slightest semblance of a cry, she flipped herself sideways, away from the colony. There were few things more detestable than those damnable, tiny insects. They seemed to be everywhere that you never wanted them, and as if to prove that point, she felt the tiniest tickle of one running across her neck. She immediately flicked the offender away, only for a second and third to appear on her collarbone and ankle, respectively.
She sat up, burying her face in her hands. What a sight it must have been; an invalid sitting in the dirt of a concentration camp for freaks, the front of her clothing streaked with filth, her face covered in dust, her hair tangled and unwashed as she swats away ants. To think that one month ago, she was a medical student living with ease thanks to wealthy grandparents; a woman who, by all means, should have gone on to be someone important, someone who impacted the world in more ways than she could have dreamed.
But now wasn’t the time for moping around like a stupid, helpless whore. Alex was undeniably in trouble, and while she certainly didn’t like the idea of placing herself in someone else’s hands, especially her fellow prisoners, what choice did she have? She swallowed hard, burying her disdain and putting on her best face before turning, pushing with her good leg to confront the stranger.
There was no way to know if he understood sign language, but considering that she had probably lost her pen in the fall, it was her best bet before resorting to charades.
Alex flicked an ant off of her wrist, then raised her hands and began. ”Thank you for that. As you can see, however, I am not exactly in an enviable situation. I am disabled, and my cane has broken. If it is not too much trouble, could you possibly assist me?” She ended this with a smile, though even she could tell that it probably looked forced. Luckily, she could probably get away with the idea that she was in such distress that such a thing wouldn’t come naturally, which wasn’t even far from the truth.
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Post by Jett Tsar on Nov 27, 2009 23:12:27 GMT -5
Jett's brow furrowed in concern as the woman began picking at herself. He inched closer, wishing only to be of aid. She looked as if she were extremely helpless. With a start he noticed a broken object which he assumed would be a cane. His eyes flickered across the woman again, confusion robbing his features.
When the woman hid her face he was quick to lift his hands.
"Oh I'm sorry. Please forgive. I meant o harm. I won't hurt you, I promise. Please let me help you. I didn't know you wished to be alone. Or do you need help? I can get the ants off you, if you'll allow me to. I'm..." Jett faded out as she turned to him began waving her hands in gestures he wasn't familiar with. He could not understand why she would want to poke at the air with her fingers instead of simply speaking. Maybe she can't.
Jett spread his hands palm up and shook his head.
"I don't understand what you're trying to say." He felt guilty, though he wasn't sure why. The smile he returned to her was humble and submissive and he ducked his head as it spread.
"Can I help you?" Jett repeated.
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Post by Alexandria Lang on Nov 28, 2009 0:24:42 GMT -5
Unconsciously, Alex shifted away from him as he came closer, though once she caught herself she moved back to her original position. She did not fear mutants; of course not. That would be silly, incredibly so. They were simply ill, and what fear was to be had from the sick? Regardless, she couldn't quite shake the feeling of just general... discomfort, the same discomfort that had lead her to avoiding the others for so long. It was simply one of those things, like feeling uneasy around an old and dying person, or, even more accurately, a beast of some sort. Common sense may have told her that the creature was tame, that the thing wouldn't dream of harming her, but at the same time, there was that old, primal fear. It was that ancient terror, handed down by her ancestors, that told her that she had to flee if she wished to live on. However, it was not the time to contemplate such a thing; this time, as it was wont to occasionally do, such a thing acted against the actions she had to take in order to survive.
The slightest flicker of annoyance crossed her face as the man professed to being unable to comprehend her gestures. So, charades it would be. Fun. Not only was she going to have to accept aid from one of them, she was going to need to do so via acting the part of an idiot mime. This just continued to get better and better.
But, she supposed it was only to be expected. She'd had to communicate with people who didn't known signing her entire life, though, generally, she'd had a pen and paper on her during those times. Carrying writing implements was essential in a world where communication meant everything, and she mentally cursed the misfortune that had caused her to lose her pen in the wildflowers.
"Can I help you?"
Alex snapped back into the situation at hand, and gave the stranger a quick nod. After a moment's hesitation, she laid a hand on her bum leg, giving a slow shake of her head to signify its uselessness. Her gaze went back to the man, and she shot him a shrug. Hopefully, he would be able to understand what she meant; miming could become dreadfully repetitive in the case that the person being gestured at was a moron. (Which, sadly, was often the case.)
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Post by Jett Tsar on Nov 28, 2009 19:59:51 GMT -5
Jett could not have stifled the smile that brightened his features when she nodded even if he had wanted to. He enjoyed meeting new people and learning new faces, but helping them was all the more thrilling. Especially Americans. Their responses to his actions varied so greatly. It was like playing Clue, a game he'd learned upon going to America. It was either the candlestick or the kitchen knife, but you didn't find out until the end, meanwhile paying close attention and drawing from the clues given to you. Absolutely splendid!
The next moment she shook her head, and the smile dropped from his lips as if it were a plate in his hands.
"I can't?" Jett asked, just barely keeping the whine from his voice. And why not? Was it because of his smile? He could take it back! Why did she not want help. She certainly looked like she needed it. Sometimes women could be so stubborn. Half the time they didn't know what was good for them.
Jett fisted his thigh in determination.
"I can't just stand here and watch you suffer. Please allow me to assist you. I swear on my neighbor's grave that I will not do anything uncommon." He lifted his hand, a gesture he had seen on court TV, and nodded earnestly.
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Post by Alexandria Lang on Nov 28, 2009 20:37:27 GMT -5
"I can't?"
Alexandria's palm came into contact with her face almost instantly, a sigh bursting from her lips. She was a patient woman, but in this moment of desperation, the fact that she was clearly dealing with a clueless dolt was more than enough to put her on edge. Clearly the idiot had no idea how this worked, so she'd have to be especially careful when it came to gestures that may have multiple meanings. What a fun little situation she was in.
As he finished up with his pitiful attempt at redeeming himself, she raised a hand to ask for silence. Holding back a second sigh, she pointed in his direction, then moved her hand back to place it over her heart. Hopefully he wasn't too dense to realise that she was conveying trust, or at least the illusion of it. If anyone expected her to have faith in anyone at that moment in her life, especially a resident of the compound, they'd be sorely disappointed.
Moving on, Alex slowly made a new set of gestures. She placed her hand over her heart once more, then shook her head slowly and clapped the same hand on her right thigh. That done, she repeated the previous "trust" gesture, hoping that the moron on the receiving end would be able to figure out I can't walk, I need your help.
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Post by Jett Tsar on Nov 28, 2009 23:45:55 GMT -5
Jett stared intently at the woman, trying to figure out what game she was up to. So if she could talk then she didn't want to. Or maybe she was having fun. Sometimes the ladies liked to play with their food before they ate it. More than one malicious woman had toyed with Jett to the point of hot tears in his childhood. No more! He had caught on to her little display and decided he would not be tricked into frustration. On the contrary, he would play along. They played Charades in South Africa. He wasn't good, but he tried.
"Okay, I'm ready. Go." Jett said, plopping down across from her and crossing his legs Indian style. He missed the first gesture completely due to distraction, but his mind raced--however slowly--to comprehend the second.
Hand on the chest could mean love, feeling, heart, me, or breast. He silently mouthed each word as they listed in his head. Shaking the head means no, not, negative. Okay got that. Touching her leg means...what the hell? Jett frowned and leaned forward onto his hands which were propped by his elbows on his knees. A pointer finger wrapped around his chin.
Pointing at me could mean you or...no just you. You is me. Okay. She touched her breast again... Jett hummed aloud and shifted his weight, rolling his eyes to the sky to compose what he'd gathered.
"So you're saying..." his gaze flashed to her, "You aren't feeling well in the leg...and you want me to..." Heat rushed to Jett's cheeks as he refrained from finishing his sentence. In a quick movement he was back on his feet, shaking his head. "I don't know how that would help you, ma'am, unless you're extremely lonely."
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Post by Alexandria Lang on Nov 29, 2009 0:23:03 GMT -5
Alex duly noted the stranger seating herself across from her, only pausing for a moment with her gestures. As her own gaze was moving as she worked to put as much into her motions as possible, she missed most of what he mouthed, as amusing as it was. Mouthing words, to her, was only a step above thinking aloud, and even then it was still horrifyingly retarded. True, she was likely biased since she didn't even posses the potential to do such a thing, but the idea that people couldn't keep their thoughts locked away, or had to mimic speech in order to sort something out, was pitiful, as far as she was concerned.
"So you're saying... You aren't feeling well in the leg...and you want me to..." He began, and she tilted her head to the left, eyebrows raised. "I don't know how that would help you, ma'am, unless you're extremely lonely."
It took every ounce of her composure to keep a sneer of contempt from shattering her "helpless maiden" act at the dolt's last words. What sort of idiot would even consider that she was attempting to get in his pants by those perfectly innocent gestures? Not to mention how hideously inappropriate such an act would be under the circumstances. However, contemplating the many, many things that were horribly wrong with a mutant having sex with a filthy, crippled mute next to the walls of a modern day concentration camp would get her no where. This game was getting both boring and annoying at an incredible rate.
Alex gave a single, quick shake of her head to dispel the notion that she was seeking a lay in lieu of aid, then followed with a jab in her collarbone; hopefully a more innocent gesture than laying a hand over her heart had apparently been. After a moment of considering her location, she then pointed away from herself, in the general direction of the compounds. If he didn't get that one, then maybe it wouldn't be a terrible idea to just continue crawling.
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Post by Jett Tsar on Nov 29, 2009 17:21:15 GMT -5
Jett's face fell again when she shook his head. So maybe he was worse at this sport than he had originally thought. Well that was just dandy. He supposed he wouldn't be talking with this one.
"Okay well..." he stopped as she began signing again. Instead of her breast it was her collar bone, eh? And...the mutants of Freakopolis? Jett couldn't understand. He could sense frustration wafting off of her, unless that was just coming from him. It would be her own fault for not giving up on her antics and just talking to him. Jett shrugged and shook his head.
"I think we come from different lands. What you sign meaning one thing has different interpretations for me. I wish I could do something for you but I don't understand you. Will you not just speak to me?" He tilted his head to the side, eying the girl.
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Post by Alexandria Lang on Nov 30, 2009 12:39:11 GMT -5
Alexandria closed her eyes, a breath of frustration escaping her lips as her head drooped downward, her brown hair draping over her face. What kind of imbecile was she dealing with? Did he really believe that she wasn’t speaking simply because she didn’t feel like it, or was pulling some sort of prank? For the love of everything, she’d used sign language; wasn’t that enough of an indicator that she was physically incapable of speech?
But then again, he had mentioned that they probably came from different lands. It was possible that the stupidity she was sensing could be nothing more than a difference of cultures, but even then, it took a true idiot - or, perhaps, a pervert - to mistake, “I need your help,” for “Let‘s get physical.”
After wallowing in her own anger for a moment, she tilted her head up to look the mutant in the eye. She clapped one hand over her mouth, then shook her head furiously. Either he would take it for “I can’t speak,” or “I don’t want to talk,” and hopefully it would be the former. She’d enraged far too many people in her lifetime for what they had assumed was the silent treatment.
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Post by Jett Tsar on Dec 1, 2009 22:10:09 GMT -5
Jett furrowed his brow as the woman made a gesture with her hand and her mouth. Another gesture. It was then that he concluded she had to be American. They were the most stubborn of all races. Their people tried and tried again, usually for their own gain, and when everything failed they still tried again. He could not help but think her exasperated reaction to him vaguely resembled the picture of the kettle calling the pot black. Stupidity never has a reflection.
"You aren't making any..." Jett stopped, lips parted mid-speech as what she had done registered. Of course the thought that this woman really was incapable of speech had tottered through his mind, but he hadn't given it a second thought. Everyone can speak. Apparently not. It was as if what she was signing had just slapped him in the face. This entire time she hadn't been merely toying with him, she'd been trying to communicate. Jett choked on a gasp.
"Gods above, ma'am, forgive me for my insolence. I had no idea you were being serious." He sat on the ground opposite of her once again, feeling foolish and showing it with flushed cheeks. His words, however, did not reflect his embarrassment. "You can't blame me--right?--with the sudden culture shock and surprises I've had since coming Freakopolis. I had never even imagined some of the things mutants here do. My mind is still trying to grasp this wondrous scene we have around us. I suppose I overlooked an affliction that seems only just to categorize as human." Jett shook his head, pushing his hair away from his face. His dark eyes gazed at the ground. "I am most ashamed."
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Post by Alexandria Lang on Dec 2, 2009 0:01:57 GMT -5
Had Alexandria possessed any theistic notions, she supposed she’d be thanking her favourite deity around then that one of her gestures had hit home at last. Though she wasn’t exactly pleased that it had taken so frustratingly long for this man - who she already had several nicknames for, many which were unspeakably vulgar - to realise that she wasn’t just being an annoying tart, at the very least, she was breaking through. She listened only half-heartedly to his feeble attempt to make up for being oblivious, carefully composing herself as she waited for him to be finished.
Alex prided herself in her manipulative abilities; she figured, had her life turned out differently, she could have easily been an actress, though this was pure speculation on her part. Lying was so much easier when she didn’t have to depend on the tone of her voice, and instead solely on the way she held herself, on the way she looked at a person, on the subtle body language that could ensnare someone to the point where whatever she wished for could be hers. This was, of course, provided that the person wasn’t the type to be extremely uncomfortable in the presence of a mute woman with a cane. She could ease herself out of that easily enough for most, but some were just hopelessly incorrigible. A pity, really.
She did not suppose that this man would be that type, however. He had already given away his shamed state, and after realising the facts, had actually drawn closer instead of further away. Perhaps now, she’d be able to finally get somewhere instead of just flailing her arms at a clueless buffoon.
Burying her resentment, Alex put on a soft smile, one that, if all went as planned, would convey both relief and understanding. It was one she’d worn on many occasions, and one she liked to think she’d perfected. She supposed that his own shame would be enough motivation to aid her - on top of that strange feeling of obligation so many people seemed to feel toward the disabled - but if she was truly to be accepting aid from these… creatures now, she supposed that a good impression would be key. She could easily keep up a masquerade of not resenting these things if it contributed toward her escape and, more importantly, her survival.
Almost as an afterthought, she repeated a gesture; she pointed toward him, then to herself, and then toward the compounds. This was simply in the chance that his own stupidity had caused him to forget the past several minutes already; hopefully, with his new information, he’d get it this time.
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Post by Jett Tsar on Dec 2, 2009 22:22:36 GMT -5
Jett felt himself grow lighter inside. She smiled at him with such sincerity, he would not be surprised if she harbored unspeakable feelings for him. There was something in the way those large eyes looked at him that made Jett feel as if she were ready to jump off a cliff if it meant winning his affection. While he was flattered by the revelation, but was in no situation to pursue the sentiments. It would be tremulous, but he would make it his duty to part with her in a way that was kind yet not encouraging of her love. Yes, that is how it would have to be.
"You want me to go with you to the market? Or at least that general area?" He lifted his brows, wondering if that meant she wanted to spend time with him. Or she could be asking to be taken somewhere. Jett's eyes wandered to her legs, and then to the broken cane. Realization hit him abruptly, widening his eyes.
"You can't walk?"
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Post by Alexandria Lang on Dec 2, 2009 23:25:27 GMT -5
Alexandria's sudden urge for a victorious arm pump was quickly smothered before it could reach maturity. It had worked. From here on out, all she could predict was smooth sailing, aside from the clumsy, awkward apologies she'd likely receive from her counterpart. She could never fully understand the need to express pity for people in undesirable situations. To be quite honest, she found it rude; if you felt sorry for someone, why in the world would you say it to their face? Not like their mumbles of pity could make any difference to a situation.
She caught herself before she could go on another full-blown mental tirade. There'd be plenty of time to do that later, but for now, she had to concentrate on her act, and exactly how she was to work the situation.
The motions were simple; Alex's warm smile faded, and her lower lip tucked under her front teeth as she glanced downward into her lap. Shame. Her gaze moved toward her right knee, then slowly nodded, avoiding the man's eyes. Embarrassed acknowledgement. Her hands clasped one another in her lap, twisting just slightly with uncertainty. Child's play. Demeaning and counter-feminist as her act of "helpless maiden" was, she had long since come to the conclusion that pride was expendable when it came to obtaining necessary aid.
To top the act off, she slowly raised her gaze to look in his eyes once more, the smallest twitch of a hopeful, yet embarrassed smile on her face. Men were so easily fooled.
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