INTRO LOG

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[[Exactly what it says on the tin! This is just an initial log to sort of get things started and is largely freeform, open to (but not limited to):

-Meetings before classes start
-First day business
-Dorm shenanigans meetings
-First classes in progress
-or whatever the heck else you want to do for beginning-of-term things!

There's a CR meme up now for some initial planning if you like, or feel free to just hop in here.]]

Comments

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[Ryan blinks and peers back at him when he hears the thump of Kieran's shoulder hitting the archway-- okay, he didn't mean to surprise him that badly-- but that comment gets a level look replacing his vaguely concerned expression.]

Couldn't, actually.

[He gestures at his throat- no voice, man.]

[felttheburn]

[ ...oh.

Kieran remembers what he came for at the gesture, though, and steps forward again towards the kitchenette side of the room where the water bottles are kept. He's heard of that sort of thing before, when someone's ability steals a different part of them. Kinetics in wheelchairs, that sort of thing.

Briefly, he wonders what his power might have taken from him, but curbs the thought quickly. ]

That sucks.

[ And then, with a slow exhale: ] And yeah, we're in the same room.

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You get used to it. [and after a moment:] ...I got used to it, anyway, it takes everybody else by surprise.

[Ryan manages a tiny smile, there-- he can have a sense of humor about the loss that came with his mutation, at least-- and he's peering more curiously at Kieran after that answer, head tilted.]

Sorry I haven't been there. It's just- a little loud for me, this early in the year. Too many people thinking too much, it'll calm down later.

[felttheburn]

I just wasn't expecting it.

[ His mental responses are very clear and well-directed, background noise of his other thoughts pushed back, as if he's done the telepathic conversation thing before. There's a buzz of confusion as he opens the wrong cabinet, mind quieting again as he pulls a water bottle out of the next cupboard and takes a drink. ]

Doesn't matter to me. You could sleep on the roof if you wanted, just don't touch my shit. [ He softens his tone -- yes, mental tone. He's definitely done telepathic conversation before. ] How long have you been here?

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Haven't touched a thing, I swear. And, uh- I got here about a year ago, I've just... been working on controlling this more than being social. Sort of had to if I wanted to be around people more.

[Ryan shrugs one shoulder, still watching him; he can tell Kieran's used to this, is putting some effort into it, and that goes a long way toward making a good impression on him.]

You're good at this. Quieter than most people.

[felttheburn]

Control's good if you want to stay sane, too. I've heard stories. [ He considers Ryan for a moment, something else buzzing under the surface, and then looks away uncomfortably as he clarifies. ] From a telepath. He said his father couldn't keep the voices out... got lost in 'em.

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That's how it was for me, when it first manifested. I still hear a lot of things, I can't ever turn it all the way off, but at first-- I got everything. All their thoughts, right into my head, and all of mine into theirs. Didn't know which way was up until I got a little space.

[He's not exactly secretive or quiet about his mutation, talks about it when prompted-- but this is likely the most he's said without being prodded first.]

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Keep working. Guy I knew got to a place where he couldn't exactly turn it off, but he could tune it like everybody around was a radio station and he'd just pick the one for awhile. [ He glances back at Ryan, gaze lingering on his throat. ] He never lost his voice, though.

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Then I guess I just got lucky.

[He huffs out a sigh, shakes his head.]

I'm working on it, though. It's just... taking time. Harder to work with your brain than with a more physical mutation, maybe, I really don't know.

[...which brings a question to mind, one that has him looking more intently at Kieran.]

What's yours?

[felttheburn]

[ Kieran levels his gaze at his roommate, locking on with an almost uncomfortable intensity. ]

It ain't a fun one. You sure you want to know?

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If I'm gonna be living with you, yes, I want to know.

[He meets that intensity easily enough, his curiosity too strong to simply back down and let it slide like he might otherwise be tempted to do.]

[felttheburn]

[ Kieran's mouth quirks, admiring the way Ryan meets him head on. Alright, that underlying buzz of his emotions seems to say, here goes. ]

My people called me a ghoul witch. Shanin said the closest he knew was puppetmaster, and that they were all fucked up addicts on murder highs. He wasn't wrong there. The boss here seems to think I could puppet if I worked it but mostly I just killed people. Wished 'em dead at first, til I got a taste for it, and now I can feel life. It's a thread that I can fray or cut or twist into knots.

[ He's not proud of it but he's not ashamed either. He did what he had to do to survive and if he fed off the kill that wasn't really his fault. The fucked up powers are the most addictive.

Still... there's something underneath the lack of remorse. Something determined. And they wouldn't have brought him to the Institute unless he was off killing, right? ...right...?]

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[He doesn't look horrified or upset at that, still neutral, still with that same look of mild curiosity as he listens. People can't help their mutations, what they do to them and the way they see things afterward-- and that feeling of determination beneath the lack of remorse helps. If it were only that, he would be more worried.]

Mutations go all kinds of directions, huh. At first I kind of figured it was just the standard things you think of when you come up with powers-- y'know, telepathy, invisibility, strength, all of that-- but people can do stuff I never would've thought of.

[Which is a total tangent, but he can't really help running off at the mouth. ...well, brain.]

How often do you actually use that?

[felttheburn]

[ -- what? He's not horrified? Kieran's brow furrows in bewilderment at how easily how roommate accepts the fact that he's basically just admitted he's a serial killer. ]

A lot. I was a hitman until last winter. Hitkid. Whatever.