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Post by Spinister on Feb 24, 2012 23:12:31 GMT -5
Miss? Esprit looks down at her ring finger for just a moment, at the very lovely steampunk wedding ring residing there, the one that her memories tell her that her husband made for her. Then her attention snaps right back onto Mr. Flynn, just in time to hear him say that it's the screams.
Her eyes narrow, and she takes a step forward. That stab in the dark worked better than she could have dreamed. Softly, Esprit asks, "The screams?"
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Flame
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Causam ago dementia
Posts: 198
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Post by Flame on Feb 24, 2012 23:44:00 GMT -5
He doesn't want to think about this. Aidan doesn't want to think about this. His head feels as though it might burst; he feels ill. He doesn't want to remember this – whatever it is.
"No," he moans brokenly, clutching his head between his hands and hunching forward over the counter. "No, no, I can't – please don't ask this. Please… please don't…." He doesn't want to think about the screams or the smell of burning metal or the sight of his skin melting off his bones in thick red drops. But why are his bones silver and steel?
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Post by Spinister on Feb 25, 2012 9:40:46 GMT -5
Esprit is not joking at all now. She commands, "You know I have to ask. Tell me about the screams."
Perhaps he's just a nutter. Perhaps he's just a nutter who likes to mulch people and use them as fertiliser for his plants.
But really, this blue-eyed strawberry-blonde is starting to remind her of someone.
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Flame
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Post by Flame on Feb 25, 2012 11:23:06 GMT -5
Aidan shakes his head between his hands and curls in on himself, trying to block out the sound of Esprit's voice. He doesn't want to think about the searing pain, the terror, the grief and heartache, feeling powerless and small while his subordinates die in profound suffering all around him. He doesn't want to think about the muggers who burst into flames halfway through the attack. He doesn't want to remember the awful smells, the crackle and hiss of burning flesh. He doesn't want it. He wants to be home, safe, untroubled. He shrinks further, trying to retreat behind the counter, violent tremors racking his thin frame.
He shouldn't be here, comes the thought. He should have taken the day off. He should be at home, camping on the sofa. He should be in a box shut away in Garrus-9.
"Leave me alone!" he shrieks, voice cracking. The paperwork on the counter catches fire, and the flames arc wildly to a nearby rack of flowers. They smoulder wetly, spitting acrid smoke as stems creak and burst in the heat. Then he panics, crying despairingly for his plants and bolting to the fire extinguisher.
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Post by Spinister on Feb 25, 2012 11:42:47 GMT -5
"Firestarter," Esprit says calmly, and she flips her cellphone out into her hand, making it obvious she has it out. She could call this in. Mr. Flynn wouldn't want that, would he? Is he going to dare to presume to tell her anything?
She can look up records where he's lived and what the fires were like in the general proximity of his vicinity. Any more unexplained fires than usual? Why, she might be bringing him in for questioning, then.
"Know right where that fire extinguisher is, huh? You remind me," she pauses, "of an Autobot named Flame. The news showed him at a state fair."
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Flame
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Post by Flame on Feb 25, 2012 12:36:30 GMT -5
The plants are a loss, unfortunately, and Aidan looks deeply wounded at this realisation even as he turns to put out the counter as well. There have always been strange fires around him, he remembers in a foggy way, ever since he was quite young; his records will show that much, certainly. His parents never wanted to discuss it and investigation revealed frequent enough mundane causes that he might well have had miserable luck. There's no such way to mask it here. He still isn't sure he did it.
"I don't," he rasps, but can't finish the thought.
The evidence is right here, isn't it? Ashes and smoking flowers, flames that sprang from nothing. Esprit has every right to call him in as an unregistered meta and have him arrested even though he has no idea if it's true.
"Flame…?" he echoes Esprit numbly. His eyes dull, gaze turning distant, as if watching something far, far away in memory. It comes to him in fragments and flashes: gay cries interspersed with howls of pain, wheeling lights in a rainbow of colours and fiery showers, disorientation, darkness, terror. A golden idol with the leering face of a skull beneath its peaked crown. A silvery disk spinning on a finger. A ghost in garish pink and teal looming over him with a knife and a voice like sand in the wind, wearing away at him. Leann whispering in his ear. Hellbender pinning him to a bulkhead. Spinister dragging him from his bunk to force him through another simulation.
Aidan crumples like a marionette without strings, doubling over on his knees and dry heaving, oblivious to the fire extinguisher as it rolls away from him. His mind is leaking from his ears, he's sure of it, spooling away like fine copper wire, and the world is turning inside out.
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Post by Spinister on Feb 25, 2012 12:50:14 GMT -5
Esprit has a pretty nice smart phone. Given how her husband is with electronics, he might be insulted if she had anything less. She pulls up the footage of Flame at the state fair, particularly the part when he appears to be about losing his mind, and she cranks up the volume.
He might be heaving, but she's going to make him watch.
If he is Flame, then they'll be having a lot more fun together. If he isn't Flame, then she'll take him down to the hospital over the panic attack he seems to be having and make sure that he gets the information for meta counseling services.
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Flame
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Post by Flame on Feb 25, 2012 13:14:46 GMT -5
You did it! The recording echoes in his head, tinny and shrill, a voice he's never heard before yet knows like the layout of his shop, like the matrix map of a dozen different brain modules. Aidan whimpers and covers his ears.
"Stop it," he sobs. He can still hear the recording like it was yesterday. Stop it! He can't breathe; he's going to pass out, he thinks, or have an aneurysm, or die. His skull must be splitting open for it to hurt this badly. Stop it! "STOP IT!" Aidan screams in a voice that's nothing like Flame's, but with exactly the same enunciation and intonation.
Fire lances upward from the floor, lashing the wall and sending sparks and branches in three different directions.
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Post by Spinister on Feb 25, 2012 13:29:57 GMT -5
Esprit is completely unphased by the fire show. (She's a pyro herself, although it works differently for her.) There is no trace of the basic human fear of fire in her. Instead, she moves over to pick up the fire extinguisher to try to put out the flames.
She says, "I'm going to call 911. You're having a panic attack again. You need medical help." Probably sedation, given what a danger he is to others. "They'll be able to refer you to a meta specialist to help you get this under control."
But right now, Esprit is more concerned with making sure the place doesn't burn down. Go ahead and try to change her mind.
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Flame
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Post by Flame on Feb 25, 2012 13:54:47 GMT -5
Though Esprit offers help, all Aidan hears is a threat of doom. Terror, raw and cold like new-mined ore, fills his limbs with a quivery numbness. He clumsily drags himself into the meager shelter of the bend behind the counter.
"No," he pleads, "no, no, I can't go back. I won't go back to them. You can't make me!" His voice turns shrill with paranoia. "Xaaron sent you? He wants me locked away, wants me rewired? I won't go! I won't!" Why can't he make the fire work as it should? "I won't let you take me to them!" he cries, trying to shrink further into the shelves.
A split second later, Aidan can't remember who they are and he goes back to holding his head and staring blankly at the floor.
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Post by Spinister on Feb 25, 2012 14:06:19 GMT -5
"Xaaron didn't send me," Esprit says calmly. She glances around. Anyone outside who might be watching or listening in? No, it's late. She hopes she doesn't miss her plans with her husband, but if she does, there is always tomorrow.
"You are Flame. You are not an Autobot anymore. You are a Transformer from another reality who was taken to this reality by forces unknown. In your home reality, you and your unit were the victims of a chemical warfare attack. It cracked you. You did some things that Autobots would consider terrible. For that, they sentenced you to spark extraction. Here, in this reality, the Decepticons offered you an out. You work for them now. Recently, an unknown force turned some of the Transformers into humans, complete with false memories. You may think those memories are true. You might not even remember what you are, but this is you."
She holds up the clip of Flame at the state fair again.
"But right now, you are a mess. That's why you're going to get put on medication to prevent those panic attacks and get that firestarting talent under control. So that you may be of use to the ones who spared your life."
Esprit starts to dial 911.
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Flame
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Post by Flame on Feb 25, 2012 14:21:59 GMT -5
Some bitter part of Aidan that isn't Aidan insists he was fine until Esprit happened into his life. He was happy, content, all his scars and pains a lifetime away and all but utterly forgotten. Esprit cracked the façade, shattered the thin shell that kept him safe from himself. It's her fault he's falling apart. She ruined everything.
"Leanne," he mumbles, "I need… to call Leanne."
On the other end of the phone line, after an automated reminder to stay on the line and a few seconds of hold music, a dispatcher answers in an almost blandly calm, firm voice.
//911, what is the nature of the emergency?//
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Post by Spinister on Feb 25, 2012 14:45:38 GMT -5
"I've got a firestarter having a mental breakdown at [address]. He hasn't hurt anyone, just torched some plants, but I don't think he has conscious control of his power yet," Esprit replies to the voice on the other end, "and he's so strung out I'm worried that he might give himself a heart attack."
This is all accurate. The best thing is that Esprit doesn't really have to lie much at all about the incident: they're going to assume Mr. Flynn is just plain nuts.
She makes a mental note of that 'Leanne' he mentions. Girlfriend?
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Flame
Rookie
Causam ago dementia
Posts: 198
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Post by Flame on Feb 25, 2012 15:05:38 GMT -5
//We have your address, ma'am,// says the dispatcher. //Can you tell if he's currently under control?// The unspoken that if he isn't, they'll be sending a squad with tranq guns before they send the ambulance. The dispatcher also assumes Esprit isn't doing something crazy like standing near an unstable firestarter.
For his part, Aidan feels as though he has come completely unglued from reality. And that one stray thought is like a switch, setting off a flashbomb of horrifying memories. He keens his abrupt distress at an ear-piercing pitch and tries to hide inside the space under the countertop, howling at Esprit to take cover before the rain eats her alive. There are, however, no fireworks.
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Post by Spinister on Feb 25, 2012 15:28:38 GMT -5
"I'm Det. Hunt of the MCU. I'm off-duty right now," Esprit explains patiently, "He's currently hiding under the counter and howling, but he isn't setting anything on fire at the moment. I can cuff him if you want, but I don't want to spook him."
No, she does want to spook him, very much, but she isn't going to tell the dispatcher that.
Esprit even humours Mr. Flynn by sitting down on the floor, out of his range of view. It's not quite cover, but... they're inside.
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