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fandomweekly2021-12-12 04:45 am
curiosity) wrote in fandomweekly2021-12-12 04:45 am
Entry tags:
[#119] Just Breathe (Polychrome Heroics)
Theme Prompt: #119 - Heartbeat
Title: Just Breathe
Fandom: Polychrome Heroics
Rating/Warnings: M / Mentions of death and past abuse, panic attack on-going.
Bonus: Yes!
Word Count: 1,000
Summary: Mist never liked telepaths or teleporters. Being alive after a brush with death was traumatic enough without a dolphin flipping through her thoughts like pages of a magazine.
Notes: This story is set inysabetwordsmith's Polychrome Heroics universe, with permission. More specifically, the Aquariana thread. You can read more on the links or on her blog. Veil first appeared here.
Mist sat in lotus pose on the bottom of the ocean. The clicks and chatter and sussurus of her coral reef’s citizens was a pleasant background noise. It muted but did not drown out the thud of her heart.
If her heartbeat was the beat, the ocean was the melody. If the crash of waves far overhead was the beat then her heartbeat was one tiny clash of cymbals in the overwhelming symphony of life all around her.
::What are you doing?::
Mist cracked open one eye, glaring at the Risso’s dolphin bobbing a few yards away.
“I’m not dead,” Mist shaped the words with her mouth and projected them from her mind, as her therapist had instructed. And reinforced her mental shields. “Why can I still hear you?”
The cetatean drifted closer, head cocked to one side to regard Mist with one dark eye. Veil’s body was at least thirteen feet long and a dark brown. Her skin was criss-crossed with white marks and scars.
Mist knew when Veil’s eyes were white, she was using her power to speak to the dead. But the eye was dark. Veil wasn’t using her power. Mist could still hear her.
Knowing that people could just riffle through her thoughts made Mist’s chest feel tight. She’d been grateful for the headblindness that had come after her near-death experience when she was young. It had been a layer of protection that would have come in handy growing up as an orphan ward to unhinged, amoral supervillains.
Now, Mist locked down her own superpower, the ability to manipulate air and water. She shot to the surface, gasping for air as she breeched, and struck out for her beach.
Veil had the grace to stay silent until Mist heaved herself onto the sand and collapsed on the beach blanket she’d set up beneath the huge umbrella before going into the ocean. The shade was necessary to protect her fragile skin where the dexiflan wetsuit didn’t cover. It helped stifle the feeling of being stared at, as well.
::Why is this form of communication so upsetting?:: Veil rose to the surface as graceful as undulating jellyfish tendrils or a seagull’s swoop, and took a deep breath.
“Some landers are awful to ocean-folk,” Mist closed her eyes. “Some of us are also pretty awful to each other, especially unclaimed young who can’t fight back.”
Veil thought about this as she swam back and forth, parallel to shore, pacing as she considered.
::Barbaric,:: she decided. ::Young are to be cherished.::
“That’s the theory,” Mist agreed. She lifted one hand to cover her heart, convinced she could feel it pounding in her palm. “Listen, can you hear that?”
::Your heart is strong.::
That forced a bark of laughter from Mist but she didn’t open her eyes. “Physically, yes. I’m fit as a fiddle.”
::Then why laugh?:: A note of annoyance laced Veil’s thoughts. Curiosity, a bit of superiority for not being a barbaric lander, and just a hint of annoyance.
“Because metaphorically, my heart is an oil spill in open waters.” Mist breathed. In. Hold. Out. Hold.
It almost helped.
Her hair was slicked tight against her head, the blanket a soothing barrier over hot sand. Breezes rustled through palm trees where the beach ended and her garden began. Farther off, windchimes danced and sang. Waves. Gulls. She could hear all that.
The air was scented with salt and sun-hot sand. Her ocean-safe sunscreen tasted like apricots and coconut.
::I am causing you distress. I do not understand. I helped save your life.:: Veil spouted, a gusty sigh.
The sound of it fell in tempo with Mist’s heartbeat. She didn’t know what to say. On her wrist, a chime sounded, patching her through to her therapist. Her blood pressure must have spiked.
“Mist?” A familiar, lilting alto replaced the chime. “What’s going on?”
“Veil’s here,” Mist managed to say around a jaw she couldn’t relax, that she hadn’t realized she’d clenched in the first place.
A thoughtful pause. “Would you like me to come over? Or would you prefer I stay and keep talking as we are?”
“Here,” Mist ground out. The wall holding the panic at bay was crumbling. How pathetic.
“I’m sorry, Mist,” her therapist was soothing, apologetic. “I know you’re trying, but I need something more clear.”
“Come over here. North Beach.”
“One moment.”
There was a sound of wind roaring and glass smashing. Then Mist’s air ability brought to her the taste of canned air and a hurricane’s wild tang. She didn’t bother opening her eyes.
“Thank you, Jùfēng.”
“Thank you, Jùfēng.” Mist held up one hand, half-waving.
“多保重,” Jùfēng said in her bird-like soprano.
“I’ll get right on that,” Mist promised, with zero sincerity in her voice and still did not opening her eyes. Telepaths and teleporters both gave her the heebee-jeebies. The beach felt like it was tilting out from under her.
Jùfēng gave a soft laugh and then there was another burst of shattering glass and howling winds. Then the beach was still. Mist could taste her therapist, Renza’s sunscreen. The dexiflan she wore. The sweat gathering on her skin.
“I can see you’re having a rough time,” Renza observed, her footsteps a soft shuffle of sand. “Can I share your blanket and umbrella?”
“No touchie,” Mist said, moving her arm to leave more room.
“Thank you. I’m going to reinforce your mental shields, the way we discussed. Is that okay?”
Mist waited until Renza’s body settled onto the blanket and lifted a hand in a thumb’s up.
::I am still here.:: Veil announced. ::Introduce me?::
Mist choked. “Renza ‘Razorwire’ Wyrensith meet Veil, Risso’s dolphin and speaker to the deceased. Veil, meet Razorwire, therapist to reformed supervillains.”
“Context later,” Renza mused. “Hello, Veil, it’s nice to meet you.”
::Why is Mist unwell?::
Mist listened to her heartbeat and let Renza explain. All she had to do was breathe. In. Hold. Out. Hold. Beat.
Title: Just Breathe
Fandom: Polychrome Heroics
Rating/Warnings: M / Mentions of death and past abuse, panic attack on-going.
Bonus: Yes!
Word Count: 1,000
Summary: Mist never liked telepaths or teleporters. Being alive after a brush with death was traumatic enough without a dolphin flipping through her thoughts like pages of a magazine.
Notes: This story is set in
ysabetwordsmith's Polychrome Heroics universe, with permission. More specifically, the Aquariana thread. You can read more on the links or on her blog. Veil first appeared here.Mist sat in lotus pose on the bottom of the ocean. The clicks and chatter and sussurus of her coral reef’s citizens was a pleasant background noise. It muted but did not drown out the thud of her heart.
If her heartbeat was the beat, the ocean was the melody. If the crash of waves far overhead was the beat then her heartbeat was one tiny clash of cymbals in the overwhelming symphony of life all around her.
::What are you doing?::
Mist cracked open one eye, glaring at the Risso’s dolphin bobbing a few yards away.
“I’m not dead,” Mist shaped the words with her mouth and projected them from her mind, as her therapist had instructed. And reinforced her mental shields. “Why can I still hear you?”
The cetatean drifted closer, head cocked to one side to regard Mist with one dark eye. Veil’s body was at least thirteen feet long and a dark brown. Her skin was criss-crossed with white marks and scars.
Mist knew when Veil’s eyes were white, she was using her power to speak to the dead. But the eye was dark. Veil wasn’t using her power. Mist could still hear her.
Knowing that people could just riffle through her thoughts made Mist’s chest feel tight. She’d been grateful for the headblindness that had come after her near-death experience when she was young. It had been a layer of protection that would have come in handy growing up as an orphan ward to unhinged, amoral supervillains.
Now, Mist locked down her own superpower, the ability to manipulate air and water. She shot to the surface, gasping for air as she breeched, and struck out for her beach.
Veil had the grace to stay silent until Mist heaved herself onto the sand and collapsed on the beach blanket she’d set up beneath the huge umbrella before going into the ocean. The shade was necessary to protect her fragile skin where the dexiflan wetsuit didn’t cover. It helped stifle the feeling of being stared at, as well.
::Why is this form of communication so upsetting?:: Veil rose to the surface as graceful as undulating jellyfish tendrils or a seagull’s swoop, and took a deep breath.
“Some landers are awful to ocean-folk,” Mist closed her eyes. “Some of us are also pretty awful to each other, especially unclaimed young who can’t fight back.”
Veil thought about this as she swam back and forth, parallel to shore, pacing as she considered.
::Barbaric,:: she decided. ::Young are to be cherished.::
“That’s the theory,” Mist agreed. She lifted one hand to cover her heart, convinced she could feel it pounding in her palm. “Listen, can you hear that?”
::Your heart is strong.::
That forced a bark of laughter from Mist but she didn’t open her eyes. “Physically, yes. I’m fit as a fiddle.”
::Then why laugh?:: A note of annoyance laced Veil’s thoughts. Curiosity, a bit of superiority for not being a barbaric lander, and just a hint of annoyance.
“Because metaphorically, my heart is an oil spill in open waters.” Mist breathed. In. Hold. Out. Hold.
It almost helped.
Her hair was slicked tight against her head, the blanket a soothing barrier over hot sand. Breezes rustled through palm trees where the beach ended and her garden began. Farther off, windchimes danced and sang. Waves. Gulls. She could hear all that.
The air was scented with salt and sun-hot sand. Her ocean-safe sunscreen tasted like apricots and coconut.
::I am causing you distress. I do not understand. I helped save your life.:: Veil spouted, a gusty sigh.
The sound of it fell in tempo with Mist’s heartbeat. She didn’t know what to say. On her wrist, a chime sounded, patching her through to her therapist. Her blood pressure must have spiked.
“Mist?” A familiar, lilting alto replaced the chime. “What’s going on?”
“Veil’s here,” Mist managed to say around a jaw she couldn’t relax, that she hadn’t realized she’d clenched in the first place.
A thoughtful pause. “Would you like me to come over? Or would you prefer I stay and keep talking as we are?”
“Here,” Mist ground out. The wall holding the panic at bay was crumbling. How pathetic.
“I’m sorry, Mist,” her therapist was soothing, apologetic. “I know you’re trying, but I need something more clear.”
“Come over here. North Beach.”
“One moment.”
There was a sound of wind roaring and glass smashing. Then Mist’s air ability brought to her the taste of canned air and a hurricane’s wild tang. She didn’t bother opening her eyes.
“Thank you, Jùfēng.”
“Thank you, Jùfēng.” Mist held up one hand, half-waving.
“多保重,” Jùfēng said in her bird-like soprano.
“I’ll get right on that,” Mist promised, with zero sincerity in her voice and still did not opening her eyes. Telepaths and teleporters both gave her the heebee-jeebies. The beach felt like it was tilting out from under her.
Jùfēng gave a soft laugh and then there was another burst of shattering glass and howling winds. Then the beach was still. Mist could taste her therapist, Renza’s sunscreen. The dexiflan she wore. The sweat gathering on her skin.
“I can see you’re having a rough time,” Renza observed, her footsteps a soft shuffle of sand. “Can I share your blanket and umbrella?”
“No touchie,” Mist said, moving her arm to leave more room.
“Thank you. I’m going to reinforce your mental shields, the way we discussed. Is that okay?”
Mist waited until Renza’s body settled onto the blanket and lifted a hand in a thumb’s up.
::I am still here.:: Veil announced. ::Introduce me?::
Mist choked. “Renza ‘Razorwire’ Wyrensith meet Veil, Risso’s dolphin and speaker to the deceased. Veil, meet Razorwire, therapist to reformed supervillains.”
“Context later,” Renza mused. “Hello, Veil, it’s nice to meet you.”
::Why is Mist unwell?::
Mist listened to her heartbeat and let Renza explain. All she had to do was breathe. In. Hold. Out. Hold. Beat.
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