sixthiterationlogs | [MINGLE] PLOT: Siren's Call

The second Jessica sits, Aurora takes that as her opening, excitedly working her way between the table and the couch so she can lay her head on the woman's knee and wag her tail insistently. Aretha goes right back to sleep, perpetually tired like her master. Frank can figure out that they have something to discuss, though he's none the wiser to what went down. So he squeezes Kamala's shoulder in greeting and solidarity both before going to fix their coffees the way they both like them, giving the two a moment without him to talk. Though, of course he can still hear them from the relatively short distance to the kitchen. Once he's within that room it's harder to eavesdrop and maybe he shouldn't be anyway. He takes his time mixing groffle's milk and stevia into Kamala's drink before bringing them out and pressing her cup into her hands wordlessly before relegating himself to a chair so he's away from them both.

It never occurred to her to blame Jessica. The surprise that the other woman isn't mad at her is shocking in itself without having that presented as an option. Kamala takes this as her cue to take a seat on the couch so she can try to come to terms with that. A lot is going on right now just with her and even more outside this house. Her stance that her life is too much right now is only getting more valid by the second.

For a few seconds she just sits back and runs it over in her head. Kamala only looks at her once she's settled on an answer with this new information. "I don't blame you. I came to you for help and you did your best. I'd be the world's biggest jerk if I said that wasn't enough." She signed off on it too. Her shoulders slump as she realizes that this probably means no one, but the being that put those thoughts in her head is to blame. You know whoever that is.

It's about now that cup gets pushed into her hands. Kamala greets him with a proper smile this time instead of numb look. She's glad Jessica came. It actually is making her feel a little better though maybe that's the promise of coffee. She takes a long sip of her drink and yeah. The coffee is definitely a factor. "Is Ellie okay?" That's a safe enough topic with Frank around. She is going to tell him. She knows she has to at some point. She's just not sure now would be the best time considering he's clearly keeping something too.

Jess would shoo the dog away if she thought she had a companionable iota in her. She doesn't but dogs inherently do and after a few minutes of being ignored, it might turn its little attempts at comfort to the person who needs it. Bouncing her heel and knee do nothing to dislodge it.

"She's okay." More than. Didn't need Jess's help after all, opening up a slew of regrets. She could have touched base with her over the network but she never would have trusted the response, so. Her biggest mistake was, as always, giving a damn. She's got to get that shit in check before someone else relies on her the way Kamala thought she could.

Jess sinks lower into her posture, shoulders hunched and angled towards Kamala. She doesn't whisper but drops into a private tone, bunkering them into a state of collusion, if Kamala will let her. If Frank will mind his own damn business. Everyone in the room is aware of what Jess will do to him if he doesn't, right? Everyone? Aretha?

"You okay?"

Edited 2018-09-03 19:50 (UTC)

He focuses his gaze straight ahead and drinks his coffee like he's not even in the room. It's a defensive mechanism, maybe, but he doesn't actually feel comfortable leaving them alone right now considering what apparently happened between them? He still hasn't gleaned the details and maybe they're not for him to know. Asking about Ellie gets a sharp look Kamala's way, but the second Jess says she's fine he settles again and goes back to staring listlessly out the window.

"Good. I've been worried about her." She admits. If not for Jessica going in to see if it was all okay, she would have made contact herself. Kamala shifts her body towards Jessica like she's back home sharing secret with Nakia while her mother made them food in the other room. It won't be a secret for long. Right now she can't think of burdening Frank with something as awful as what she did. She already knows he'll know none of that was done willingly opening a whole other wound for him. She wishes there was some magical time where he'd be best prepared to handle it. Right now she's just trying to handle her own feelings about it. Kamala finds she doesn't have the energy to lie nor does she want to. She confides in Jessica openly as she rests her coffee on her thigh.

"Not really. I feel awful. It kind of feels like I betrayed everyone who ever cared about me. I definitely betrayed my beliefs. I don't know how to make it right or if I can. It sucks. I never thought I'd miss being able to go to mosque and have old guys tell me what to do, but here we are."

It's a wound all right. His is old and Kamala's is fresh and new, and Jess knows from experience that letting that pain fester can leave entire parts of you destroyed. The girl's expertise in worrying about everyone around her, including her family back home, before herself could hasten that dramatically, for all Jess knows. Anyone else, she would give more time to themselves before showing her face. Anyone else, she could picture handling the self-blame, for better or worse, but she fails to imagine Kamala whenever she tries.

That's as unsettling as the certainty that Jess needs her to stay her. They all do. They're all garbage people living in garbage forest.

"You didn't betray anyone." It seems like a good place to start. Unfortunately, that single spark of wisdom can't illuminate for her how to go on. She's ill fit for any kind of speech on death despite her lifelong familiarity. And if Kamala knew how she used to think about it, and did again until very recently, she'd hate her. Jess bites down on a sigh and pushes her hair behind her right ear. "Whatever was up with that jukebox or that party, that idea is something that was planted in you, not pulled out. I promise."

It clicks, Frank hates it but it starts to make sense what they're talking about. Even Aurora, always hyper, does eventually give up and lay at Jessica's feet instead and he knows his assumption must be correct, especially after watching Elena kill herself. He swallows, but turns towards them fully now, knowing he'll have to wade into this conversation one way or another. He clutches his coffee to his chest and lets out a shuddering breath.

"She's right. This isn't on you, sweetheart." It's soft as his gaze lights on hers, concern easily overtaking the hurt and confusion of a moment ago.

It finally fits into place. That was a song playing at the party. She remembers gently swaying to it with Ellie at one point before going to grab some candy because it was kind of a bummer compared to T.Swift selections. She just wanted to have fun so badly. It never occurred to her the whole setup might have been an elaborate trap. That makes more sense than suddenly stopping her love of life. This hurts so badly and she still wouldn't give it up for anything. She wants to be here for herself as much as for the people who love her.

The realization and acceptance plays out that maybe she really isn't to blame. Maybe that an idea planted so long ago that even the tools Jessica gave her couldn't dig it out. She'd resisted in her way, hadn't she? It was not wanting to be alone that gave Owen the opening he needed to save her. Frank speaks up and she freezes, stealing a glance at him as she tastes the guilt and shame all over again.

She has to face this so she forces out a thought that had played in her head over and over again. "It would have been a terrible thing to do to you even if it wasn't my fault." Kamala can't stand the idea of being some kind of sick proof that he was wrong to ever let another kid in his life. They all just die on him. He'd have been better off never knowing her at all. "I'm sorry, Frank. Do you hate me?" That fear is almost as strong as wondering if her actions damned her soul or something equally dramatic.

Jess's jaw locks shut, straining the frame of her face, and her eyes bore into him like a blunt drill. He's not so crazy stupid as to fuck up the answer but Jess isn't thrilled about the question or about having to put a pin in the screaming match she suddenly wants to have over it. For Kamala's sake, they'll have to take it outside. At least she won't have to wait for a rainy day.

He can't look at Jess now though he doesn't have to - he already knows the expression she's wearing because it's the same she always wears when she's pissed at him. Aka usually. He isn't any happier about the question Kamala turns his way, but still he knows he has to address it, and quickly. Frank gets up off his chair and deposits the coffee cup carelessly to the coffee table before stooping down in front of her so they're at eye-level.

"I could never hate you, Kamala." His gaze is steady and even for a change, no sense of his usual instability in sight. This is true dad-mode. He shakes his head and manages to hold it together long enough to tack on, "You have nothing to be sorry for, okay? You're safe, that's all that matters now."

Edited (one letter eddiiitttttttt) 2018-09-03 23:04 (UTC)

Kamala stares into his eyes looking for any sign he is placating her. She knows Jessica tends to call it like she sees it. That's what made it so easier to start the process of forgiving herself for not being stronger. Jessica wouldn't just make stuff up to let her off the hook, Kamala thinks. She also thinks that this time Frank really means it. He doesn't hate her for almost putting him through something terrible. The reminder that really all that matters in the end is that she's okay does a lot reassure her too. In the end, no harm was actually done. She scared herself, Owen, and Jessica, but at least they can all move past that.

"Okay." She looks between Jess and Frank and nods slowly. "What do you think happens now? Is it just over because something else is happening? I still don't get why someone wanted people to drown themselves." She knows she isn't the only one who tried to get in even the memory is bit of a blur.

For half a second, Jess thought Kamala meant now now, but thank god she's not talking about that. Not that she has a satisfactory answer for either. A sigh is pushed through her nose, the knuckles on one hand folded into the other and releasing several soft cracks. Her stare is loosely hooked on the coffee table.

What suggestions she musters, she keeps to herself. The list can distilled to its essence, the machinations of a powerful man's frail ego, and then she can practically see Kilgrave in the corner offering cheers. She won't be the conduit through which he lives again. To that end, maybe she should take some coffee to go.

Frank actually does have an answer for that, and he puts down his hand next to Kamala's leg to keep himself balanced where he is.

"I was there, in the lake. The girl who drowned..." He swallows, then shakes his head. He had tried everything, as usual it hadn't been anywhere near enough. "She found a door, down there, leads to some... underground lab, or something."

He's really not looking forward to seeing what's down there in all honesty, but after talks of 'specimen rooms' he can guess it's more of the same.

"You're right about one thing: someone, or something wanted us to find that place." To fuck with them? Or to save them? That's the question, isn't it?

She hears what he doesn't say. Frank had failed to save her. Her eyes fill up with sympathy for him. She knows how badly that must have stung him. Kamala's eyes widen at the rest. She looks at Jess and then Frank as it really starts to come together for her. "They weren't trying to kill us. They just needed us to find the door. They told some of us how to find it in a song?" Kamala frowns deeply, but that makes a creepy amount of sense. Why else make them so determined to get there? They were the only ones who knew where to go.

Kamala swallows nervously as something else starts to occur to her. She hasn't let herself absorb what's going on while consumed by her guilt. Some of it is starting to filter back in. "... Underground lab, huh? That's... a really bad sign in my experience." They're totally experiments. She hates everything. This is the Inventor all over again.

Fucked up that Jess hopes Frank was trying to drown himself and not save someone else but she can tell that's not the case, or not all of it. Saves her having to demand where he was when Kamala came to her, though in truth, it's just changed it to a question of why he was there. It really doesn't matter when he unburies the sunken lab lead.

"Hold on." Jess leans forward onto her knees and inches towards the edge of the sofa so she can be seen behind Kamala. "Are we talking about flooded ruins or Sea Lab?"

He finally looks up at Jess properly and nods as if to say yes to both, but it really is more one than the other.

"Sea Lab is worse, right?" His gaze swings back to Kamala as he leans back on his legs and kneels down on the floor. Aurora is on him like a shot, but even he doesn't want to get distracted by the dog right now, attempting to hold her at arm's length so he can finish this. "Kira thinks we're clones." And as far as he can see it that's their best case scenario.

Kamala shoots an impressed look Jessica's way. She wishes she had thought of that! She meets Frank's gaze as he looks her way. She ignores Aurora since like Frank she doesn't need to get distracted by fluffy creatures she adores right now. What he says starts to concern Kamala until common sense kicks in. Kamala looks a little uncomfortable because seriously did no one else notice this?

"Uh... okay. One problem with that." Kamala points at Frank. "If we're clones, why is your nose still super obviously broken a ton and healed wrong?" She takes a sip of her coffee before continuing. "Plus all those scars? Take off your shirt, Frank." She looks over to the lady sitting with her. "Jessica, if you've see them, you will know that literally no one would recreate scars like that! They're insane. What self-respecting evil scientist would have the budget to study his scars and perfectly recreate them down to how badly they healed?! Frank alone would cost a fortune!"

Jess is starting to feel for the dog, who is a stronger moor for her surface thoughts than the lifeless coffee table. Kamala's attention guides it over to her again and when it bumps its nose to Jess's knee this time, she unclasps her hands to lazily ruffle its ears. Meanwhile she's coming up with her own reasons why that could and couldn't be the case, and even more as to why she isn't bowled over by the very real possibility. Shock, obviously, but if she has to rank the threats she's faced, being a clone falls below Sound Eaters and a super stalker.

She stops ruminating with an abrupt blink when Kamala ropes her effortlessly back into the conversation. Wow, she wasted that time thinking when she could have been making her escape. She guesses she's a bit bowled over after all.

"They're, uh," she clears her throat, "yeah. Seems like a lot of wasted effort." She's actually referring to herself there.

He honestly hadn't thought about what Kamala means. She does have a point and though he'd usually hesitate at a request like that, he suddenly needs to see the marks for himself, to ensure that they're still there and all in the right places at that. Frank pops off his t-shirt as Jessica's voice filters back in, almost like he'd forgotten she was here. Except that's not really possible for him, he had merely set it aside. Her comment at first seems like a dig, which would be fine, but then he recognizes what she means and he's swallowing, looking down at his own chest rather than her face. Like so many things between them, he pretends he doesn't know about the scar behind her ear, about who he's sure put it there even if he'd never ask. Calloused fingers brush the scar over his heart, left by the arrow from his friend's bow. It feels just as knotted and gnarly as it always had, only an inch lower and he wouldn't have been brought back from the brink again.

"So then what, if not clones?" Androids or something equally outlandishly scifi? They're already in their second impossible place, no suggestion is truly too out there for him to consider at this point.

The truth is Kamala would be at peace with the possibility of being a clone until she worried about what became of original Kamala. Being a clone would be the ultimate cop out. She could literally do whatever she wanted. She wouldn't have to worry about her family anymore. She'd be free in so many ways it's a little overwhelming. Kamala looks at the familiar scarring on Frank's chest and feels certain of her conclusion. They're not clones, but what they are isn't very nice.

"I think we were kidnapped to be part of someone's experiments. Plain and simple." Only Kamala would think that is plain or simple. Forgive her. Her first villain was literally a cloned bird hybrid stealing children. She takes another sip of coffee before diving in. "Think about it. Frank, you already know my backstory so it's not like it'd be totally insane for something or someone out there to see what else could happen to me under certain conditions. We have Avengers here. Like this is basically a who is who of people you could get a ton of interesting data from. Anyone who doesn't fit is probably the control group. Even what happened seems a lot like a test in a lab. Plant a location in someone's brain and see who reaches it first under threat of drowning? It's messed up, but it makes so much sense."

She gradually reclines into the couch, sneaking a glance around Kamala for confirmation. Same scars, all right, probably. There's enough to deal with right now without poring over that loaded memory. Thankfully Kamala has more to say, as she usually does. Jess weighs her theory against Frank's -- Kira's, whoever the hell Kira is. To her, instead of contrasting each other, they fit together well.

"If you're gonna experiment on people, why not clones," she thinks aloud, watching the rolls in Aurora's fur as she scrubs the dog's head, remounted on her leg. Jess sighs, at a loss for what to do with an Avengers-sized existential quandary or the hint at Kamala's must-be-fucked-up backstory. Wordlessly, Jess pushes herself to her feet and wanders further into the house, towards the kitchen she hasn't quite been in yet. She's taking him up on that coffee but first she's going to root around the cupboards for the biggest mug they got.

Jess gets up and Frank brings his shirt back over his chest, getting up too before shrugging back into it reflexively. That was weird, wasn't it? Her theory is similar to Kira's, Kamala's is closer to Ravi's. Is it fair for Frank to just say he's too damn tired to give a fuck? No matter who's right, this place is still somehow better than where they were.

"I can get that," he insists even as she starts poking through the cupboards and Frank sighs, running a hand back through his long hair. He refocuses on Kamala while letting Jessica do whatever she wants - usually safer than interrupting her. "It could be either or, I guess. I'm not sure how much difference it makes, honestly."

Kamala's gaze follows Jessica as she goes. She really has a good point there. Maybe it wouldn't be so hard to perfectly recreate the damage Frank Castle carries around. She's a tiny girl who could become everyone and anyone once upon a time. Weirder things have happened. She finishes her coffee while listening to Frank's take. That really resonates too. Maybe it's time for her to put her cards on the table.

"To be honest, I think it only matters to me and Peter. It's the difference between ruining our family's lives by being gone or never having parents at all. I mean if I take out the scary part about not being anyone's daughter? It's kind of comforting to know they're not suffering right now. Maybe they just stole original Kamala Khan's blood after one of the hundred times something happened in JC and made me. Or they grabbed a sample before I changed from my doctor. Either way, that's actually not a bad way for this to go." She still has Frank so it's not like she's completely without family. The rest can be figured out with time.

They might have a thermos tucked in the back of one of these cupboards but Jess finds a sufficiently oversized ceramic mug and abandons the search there. She fills it to the top with still-steaming coffee, gulps down three mouthfuls, and tops it up again, because who knows how this is going to affect the narrative in her nightmares. Jess listens to Kamala from half a room away, her back to the living room and Frank. She stares into her cup or out the nearest window as she tries to tune out and dredge some personal stakes from this, without success.

If she is a clone, she already knows what she has to do. Put an end to her line. And make sure the Overseers don't have the genetic material to continue someone else's, too. It's what original Jess would want her to do in this situation, regardless of if she's out there. Jess has another deep pull of coffee, choosing not to refill it.

"That's where that pod goes," she murmurs to herself begrudgingly. Well, there goes her plan to completely ignore it and move on with her life. Like she wasn't gonna lean hard on the former tactic and conflate its progress with the latter. She was. And it was a good plan!

Edited 2018-09-05 01:00 (UTC)

He hadn't actually been thinking about Kamala's parents for a change, so the reminder is sad, but welcome. There are people who will miss her, and while Jessica and Frank have a few who meet that definition too it's nowhere near the same. And they're used to them being unreliable and dropping off the grid for extended periods of time anyway.

"You're right, sweetheart. Sorry, we have to find out." If his original self is still in New York then why is Max still with the Liebermans? Does his landlady have anyone to help her? Does Curtis curse his name when he doesn't show up for group (or when he does lbr)? Jessica brings him back to the present again, his gaze snapping onto her when he overhears her murmur, no doubt not meant for his ears, but they're too sensitive now not to pick it up. "Yeah, well, if we're pod people you think that means I lost the vaccine?" A bit of fear edges into his voice despite the evenness of his tone otherwise. No one else would understand why it mattered, it's something he'd only ever ask her.

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