lucetilogs | Zompania Draft - Draftees only, days 1-3.5

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Zompania Draft - Draftees only, days 1-3.5

Who: All Draftees
What: This is your death. Followed by your time-traveling life and desperate bomb hunting.
When: From May 22 to May 20 to early May 23 (days 1-4)
Where: Zompania
Summary: Information post here
Rating: Varies on thread, please mark explicit material.

This post is for the draftee-only portion of the Zompania draft--the day 3 death, time travel to day 1, and then the events until the arrival of the reinforcements. Be sure to use the above info post for any plotting needs you might have. Enjoy!

Please note that there is a specific top-level comment thread for:

The day 3 arrival of the draftees and the 6 hours that follow until the bomb is dropped
Death--This thread can be treated as REFERENCE ONLY. Responding to it isn't necessary.
Threads prior to departing for Zompania--post resurrection freak outs, arguments over how to proceed, etc.

All other threading, from day 1 until the reinforcements arrive, should be conducted as normal.

Be sure to tag this post appropriately: [canon] character name

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Logan's... not here. [Her voice is a little muffled, as her sits atop her knees, propping her head up.]

... and you're not. You're-- really not. You're too good for all this.

But that's the thing. Logan's not here, so someone has to be good enough for this. Man enough for this. [he's now crouched down sadly near her.]

If something goes bad and someone gets hurt, it'll be on me now.

What? [She sits up, trying to pay attention now. That didn't sound right to her. Not at all.] No! You're-- you're not a-- fighter. You're like my brother. [She means that in a good way, honestly.] You're... Made for defense. And support. But not-- this. This isn't what you were made for.

[He looks into her yes sadly. The words do sound right, and he feels a tug at his heart, but the guilt is still there. He doesn't even comment on the brother part, but it sinks in.]

It's not what I'm made for, but it's what I have to do! All of our teachers are gone, all of the adults are gone. I have to make the difference or no one else will!

I will. ... [She can only hold his gaze for a moment, before she has to look away, ashamed.] Or-- I thought... I was trying.

[Kurt was suffering because she couldn't finish this fight fast enough. He was having to fight, because of her failure. ]

H-hey. This isn't your fault. [He says with a pained voice as he reaches for her, trying to take your hand.] This is your first draft. You shouldn't have to be doing this. And I... I should know better by now.

[When Kurt takes her hand, she looks at him in surprise. She's not used to people taking her hands. They're like weapons. Especially now, with all the blood she's seen because of what her witchy twichy fingers can do. It makes her think of Kurt as both brave, and compassionate. And she is far to tired to completely understand that confusing brew of emotions.]

... It isn't your fault either. And yes-- I should! [Why doesn't he understand that?] Fighting-- war-- This is what I've always been... been trained for. It's what my life's been leading up to. ... I've always known that. Always.

[She pauses having a moment, as they say, of clarity.]

... and I hate it.

[His eyes go soft at that. What kind of upbringing did she really have, if that's the way that she thought of herself. He tries to speak to her calmly, hurt ringing in his voice as his eyes meet hers.]

Wanda... I would be worried for you if you didn't hate it. [And he tries to squeeze her hand supportively.] You shouldn't have to do this. You should be safe from all this. You're just a kid like the rest of his, Wanda.

... I wish that were true. [She drops her head, bumping her forehead against his hand. She's tired. So very, very tired.]

I'm-- stuck. In the middle. ... I know what I am. ...What I'm supposed to be. But I want to be someone like you.

[He feels her head against his hand. And he wants to help her rest. He wraps his other arm and his tail around her to try to comfort her her more.]

Shhh. It's okay. You have the power to be whoever you want to be. Just like anyone else. And... trust me. In terms of wanting to be like people, you could do a lot better than this scaredy little fuzzball.

[She leans against him, grateful for the comfort he's offering.]

... who wouldn't be scared. Here... like this? [Her voice is low, quiet. She is on the verge of passing out.] ... Besides. You're nice. Funny. ... good. You... care.

[And she likes that.]

I try. I try to care. But caring... that's not always enough, right? That doesn't save people...

If more people cared... then maybe we wouldn't need to save people.

Maybe. But we can't make the Third Party care.

So... I'll destroy them. [It's what she was born to do; Destroy the opposition.] ... And then you can build... a better world with your caring. Without them. [Looots of Magneto in that statement. None of his anger though. She's all but sleep, at this point, mumbling her words, eyes closed.]

[And then he pulls back, disturbing by quickly she went to that.]

No, that's... that's too far!

[She jerks awake, when he pulls away, expression reading as sad, exhausted and desperate.]

... Then tell me what to do. I don't know... if no one tells me! ... please!

Wanda... [He looks at her in hurt eyes.]

It wouldn't be right if I did. You have to decide what to do. Not anyone else.

I don't know what to do. [Tears actually start flowing at this point, cutting slow tracks through the dirt and blood on her face. She shouldn't cry, she knows, but she's too tired to care anymore.]

...Tell me to fight, I'll do it. Tell me not to, I'll do that. I just-- I don't know.

I don't want any of us to fight. [He comes nearer again, resting her hand on his shoulders.]

But... I also want you to be free. I want you to be your own person, Wanda. Especially in a place like this... that's how we live with ourselves.

[Curling up into a ball, her face burried behind her knees, behind her arms which hug her legs, trying to make herself as small as possible. Her head shakes 'no' though the gesture is somewhat muted, as constrained as her position is currently.]

I don't know how... I don't know how.

[Her voice is muffled and stretched thin. She's just... done. This is to hard, in too many ways, and something has to give. ]

[And now he drapes his arms over her completely once again.]

You don't have to. Not yet. Right now... You should rest, Wanda. Maybe that's what you need. All these decisions can wait... for after your rest.

[She sniffles in response, as her breathing shifts from 'upset crying' audible to 'passed the hell out' audible. She's finally given up on consciousness, and crashed hard into sleep. Her body at least relaxes somewhat, leaning against him and her knees. She will be grateful later. For now, though: Sleep.]

[He feels her fall asleep in her arms and cradles her for a bit, taking a moment to kiss her forehead. At least she's resting. He'll then just try to find her somewhere relatively comfortable to sleep and drape a blanket over her. He'll make sure this rest remains undisturbed.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Zompania Draft - Draftees only, days 1-3.5

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