( She shouldn't be surprised by his comment, but she is. It's still strange to have people not be afraid of her. Even among her own kind she'd often felt like an outcast. Sometimes she'd been shunned by other mutants simply because she'd draw attention to them. Sometimes she didn't get to stop running long enough to try and seek out a friend.
At least here, she doesn't have to.
She smiles, but doesn't speak, ducks her head a little. Without thinking she tucks her hair behind her ear revealing the tipped point. Maybe she's starting to get it. Maybe it doesn't matter anymore. Listening to Cisco talk about Eddie is sweet. She can hear the affection in his voice, despite the subject matter. She can also pretty much tell that whatever brought his abilities to the surface, it wasn't anything with a happy ending.
She can relate to that. )
You're putting me to shame. I can only punch holes through one world. ( And with fairly limited distance. But she keeps her voice easy, friendly. She doesn't want to make a big deal out of what he's not saying. Or how hard he finds what he is.
But --. She wants to help. )
You know it's okay, right? To have powers. It isn't your fault.
Okay, trust me, it's all so much less cool than it sounds. I communicated with another universe, like, one time, and I've never actually opened a breach, and most of the time the visions are just- just awkward shit I never needed to know about people or really fucking horrible stuff I can't unsee. It's hardly psychic HBO.
[ He'd meant to keep up the tone of banter, and mostly succeeded, with only a mild moment of veering towards getting a little too real. But, well, it's the truth. It's not like he sees nice stuff in his vibes. It's all Eobard bullshit and Kravitz drowning and kids getting murdered. At least sometimes he sees stuff in time to do something about it, but... sometimes he doesn't. ]
Punching holes in one world is definitely cooler.
[ Clarice has the best of intentions, he's sure, trying to reassure him about his powers. He laughs, a little awkwardly, looking down at his coffee. How ]
I, uh. I super don't wanna sound ungrateful, but... I mean, I totally get that, like, for mutants, it's a part of your genetics, from birth. I can see how... kids growing up different might blame themselves, even though they didn't do anything wrong. And that sucks, and they definitely shouldn't.
[ Clarice, he thinks, had probably very badly needed somebody to say her own words to her, at some point in her life. He can recognize the kindness in that gesture. With the corner of his mouth twisting up into a little rueful smile, Cisco goes on: ]
But for metahumans... for me, it was somebody's fault. A specific guy. He planned the whole thing and sabotaged the particle accelerator just so it would explode and give people powers. I... literally am the way I am because he made me this way.
[ He's trying to explain it as plainly and neutrally as he can, but this stuff is close to the nerve, and it shows. There's something in his tone that suggests, despite the lack of specifics, that he's not talking about some random stranger, but that he knew the person responsible. ]
( She tries to imagine how she would feel having someone to blame. Shamefully, she's sure it definitely wouldn't be something she could ever get over. Clarice has spent too much of her life being angry in a futile way. Having a direction for it would probably ruin her. )
What happened? ( Her brows are drawn down, knitting together between her eyes. There's a fierceness about that, like if said person were here she'd quite happily portal them off the goddamn moon for Cisco. Even if they don't know each other that well, there's a pulse of something sympathetic inside of her. The world is a shitty place. ) To the guy? How many metahumans did he make? Or, I guess if you don't manifest them straight away that's pretty impossible to know. But was he caught?
[ Cisco is a little taken aback by that ferocity, precisely because he and Clarice don't know one another all that well. But it makes him feel, unmistakably, a little rush of happiness. When all of it had been happening, when they'd realized Dr. Wells was the Reverse Flash and all that that implied, there hadn't really been anybody around to be angry on Cisco's behalf. They'd all had their own personal reasons to hate Wells, and all of their anger had been mired in guilt and self-blame for not catching on to his lies sooner.
So it's nice, just to have that confirmation of his own anger, to know that it sounds to a stranger like something worth feeling angry over. ]
We don't know exactly, 'cause of the delay in powers showing up, yeah, and 'cause most metas just hide it and don't tell anybody. Our best guess was about 1% of the city's population, so around 2,600? That's just based on probability and a bunch of other stuff. Like my job involved trying to find metas and even I've only met, like, thirty. There's not a lot of us.
[ He knows that in Clarice's world, there are a whole lot more mutants than just a couple thousand. And here, in the Quarantine, it's always seemed to him that the percentage of people with powers is much higher. But then, that makes sense. They were looking for people who had abilities that could help this place.
He hesitates for a moment before answering the other question - he doesn't want to be cryptic or withholding, but he doesn't want to overshare, either. There's a brittleness to his voice that's new as he says: ]
He's dead. Actually more than dead. Erased from time. The... stuff he did stayed the same, but he evaporated, and- [ Cisco says the next bit all in a rush: ] -and you don't know me really well but just trust me that I'm not the kinda guy who would say this lightly but... but he. Deserved it. Not for making metas. That was going to happen eventually anyway, he just sped it up so it happened a few years sooner. But- but other stuff.
[ Cisco hopes, at least, that the difficulty he's having in saying all this will make it clear that he's not super interested in going into the details. He lets out a short sigh, summarizes: ]
( Maybe Cisco needs to hear that. Clarice can tell there's something else, something more personal. She knows trauma, both in herself and others, can read it pretty well. And she wouldn't talk about it either, so she gets it. Instead she just reaches over and squeezes his arm once before dropping her hand. Zingo, more obvious about it, props her head in the man's lap and lets out a huff. )
One less evil bastard in the multiverse, right?
( Another smile, softer, but more honest. She won't push, but she hopes she's at least navigated it well enough so that he knows if he ever changes her mind, he can come to her. )
Have you been practising your power? I know you said some of it is pretty awkward, but the other stuff? The portals and the vibrations? ( This she can also relate to. ) John says it's about finding something positive to focus on. Bad stuff, it's harder to weild. But if you tap into the good in life, then it's easier to control. ( She shrugs, like she's not quite sure she believes it herself. She's tried that, and yet her power still flickers out when she needs it the most. But maybe she's getting there. ) Friends, family. Or like your presumably hot boyfriend.
( Now her energy is back and she gives Cisco a wicked smirk. She doesn't know what Eddie looks like, but she's going for it anyway. )
[ Cisco appreciates the recognition and comfort in that simple bit of contact, and appreciates that Clarice isn't looking at him with pity or, worse, expectant curiosity. He sets a hand on top of Zingo's head, scratching between her ears. It's such a simple thing, scratching a dog's head, but it grounds him, helps him center himself like Genji had taught him. He might not have said much on the topic, but, well, it was more than he would have been able to say a few months ago. Progress is progress. ]
Right.
[ He toys with the idea of telling her that Eddie had been the one to kill him, but then thinks better of it. If he does that, he'll have to explain how, and there's just no way to explain that without getting pretty depressing. Some other time, maybe.
He's grateful when she steers the conversation back away from his past and to the present, and his powers. ]
I have. Not the breaches, yet. I made myself gauntlets, to help with the vibe blasts. So I can be more precise and not just break shit. Mostly I've been trying to- to get it so I can use my powers without being scared out of my mind first. For a while there that was sorta the only way I knew how. But- it sucked, so. Yeah.
[ Clarice, from the sound of it, is familiar with that phenomenon. If John had had to tell her that focusing on positive stuff was better, from the sound of it, she'd been focusing on negative stuff before. Which... seems like something they have in common. ]
Ain't no presuming about it.
[ He matches her smirk, but then a certain nervousness creeps into his expression, and he rubs at the back of his neck, asking: ]
I was actually wondering... what's it like for you, opening a portal? I mean- I... I've never actually tried that, before, and I kinda don't even know where I would start.
( For a second she struggles with finding the right words. She's not sure how to describe the feeling her powers give her. Mostly because she's still not as in control of them as she'd like. )
Exhausting? ( A shrug, a laugh. ) I mean, no it's useful. There's just all these limitations to it. I have to know where I want to go, I have to have been there before, and to know the direction I'm going in. Because you do not want to end up in the middle of the freeway, let me tell you that. ( Twisting her mouth slightly. ) And then there's keeping it open. I have to focus on it. If I don't they could snap back like a rubber band.
( Just for a moment, her thoughts turn to the first time. The blood, the fear, the guilt. Clarice is good at keeping it locked up tight, but sometimes it slivers back in. Sonya wasn't the only person she's ever had die from her mistakes. )
I'm working on it though. With John. I'm trying to learn how to keep my head when someone needs me.
( Clarice lifts her hands, her head tipping to the side. And then there's a crackle of light between her fingers, blue and purple waves opening in the middle of her palms. She keeps it small, like a porthole instead of a door, the other side showing a place in the park, the trees, the wind whistling suddenly into the apartment. She doesn't hold it for long, because she doesn't want to risk any wayward passerby losing a limb. )
[ Cisco listens intently as Clarice speaks, all but pulling out a pen and paper to actually take notes. He knows there is a possibility there will be some differences in their powers. They are from different universes, after all. But still: Barry had learned so much about being a Speedster by listening to Dr. Wells. For better or worse... the perspective of someone else with the same powers had helped him learn how to phase through objects, how to run fast enough to break the sound barrier, and more.
He doesn't interrupt when Clarice goes quiet for a moment, seeming... Cisco's not sure. Angry at herself? Sad? Homesick? Her face is unreadable to him, apart from being able to tell that whatever is going on inside her, it isn't exactly happy. Then she says she's working on it, and starts opening a portal. It's louder than Cisco imagined and he leans in, mouth gaping in awe. He peers through, seeing that that is definitely somewhere outside on the other end of the portal.
She closes it before he gets to look for very long, which is a bit disappointing, but... he'd still seen what it looked like, and that was useful. Her joke about her job startles a small giggle from him. ]
No kidding! That's a pretty great gig, when you got a power like that.
[ And then, because fair is fair, and she'd let him ask questions and had shown him her power, he holds out his hand palm-up and, with a brief pause to take a deep breath, pulls some multidimensional energy into it. He knows that it is the energy he will need to manipulate, to make a breach of his own. It looks not quite like Clarice's had. For one thing, there is no sound - apart from an almost imperceptible thrumming. The energy is less like lightning and more like the patterns of light under water, a bright blue without a hint of the purple that had been in Clarice's own power. He just holds it there around his hand, shifting and glowing but harmless. It's a sign of trust. Saying he has powers is one thing. Giving proof of it is another. ]
( Her grin is wild, is bright all of a sudden. It's the same, but different and she leans forward to peer at the light with interest. His is silent, she finds she keeps straining her ears to listen for the sound her own makes, but it's pretty. It's pretty, and it's useful, and he shouldn't be scared of it. )
That's so neat.
( She looks up at him, still smiling. And then she's getting to her feet with purpose. ) Zingo, sit. ( Because now they've shared, she figures it's about time they talk about it in a much more practical manner. Clarice's portal starts small, widening with a rush of wind that flutters the pages of John's nearby book. The other side is empty unlike the park, without the risk of people severing their limbs. It looks like an abandoned warehouse. The pathway between her energy grows and grows until it's big enough to fit a person, and then she's glancing back his way. )
C'mon. I know the scientist in you wants to do whatever scientists do. I use this place to practise.
[ It's odd, the feeling of lightness, of happiness that Clarice's slightly wild smile provokes in him. He can't explain it, really. It's not like when he's showing off some new tech he's invented. Not like how he feels when someone gives him a compliment on his shoes or hair or a good joke he had made. There's something fundamentally different about this - about taking the risk to show her his power, and her reacting only with appreciation. It means more, too, that she is like him. A mutant, sure, and not a meta, but more alike than different.
It's that new and exciting feeling of camaraderie that spurs Cisco on, to follow her through the portal. Normally, he would be too wary, despite how nice Clarice seems. Cisco's gotten killed once before, and he's understandably wary, now, about who he is with and where he is. This could be somewhere isolated, where there would be no help around should he need any.
But those thoughts, though they still cross his mind, seem trivial and unimportant. He only hesitates a half-second before following her through the portal. ]
Yeah, that's kinda been one of the things I haven't figured out yet. You know... somewhere to kind of work on this stuff without anybody seeing and without, y'know, ruining my workshop for the hundredth time.
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no subject
At least here, she doesn't have to.
She smiles, but doesn't speak, ducks her head a little. Without thinking she tucks her hair behind her ear revealing the tipped point. Maybe she's starting to get it. Maybe it doesn't matter anymore. Listening to Cisco talk about Eddie is sweet. She can hear the affection in his voice, despite the subject matter. She can also pretty much tell that whatever brought his abilities to the surface, it wasn't anything with a happy ending.
She can relate to that. )
You're putting me to shame. I can only punch holes through one world. ( And with fairly limited distance. But she keeps her voice easy, friendly. She doesn't want to make a big deal out of what he's not saying. Or how hard he finds what he is.
But --. She wants to help. )
You know it's okay, right? To have powers. It isn't your fault.
no subject
[ He'd meant to keep up the tone of banter, and mostly succeeded, with only a mild moment of veering towards getting a little too real. But, well, it's the truth. It's not like he sees nice stuff in his vibes. It's all Eobard bullshit and Kravitz drowning and kids getting murdered. At least sometimes he sees stuff in time to do something about it, but... sometimes he doesn't. ]
Punching holes in one world is definitely cooler.
[ Clarice has the best of intentions, he's sure, trying to reassure him about his powers. He laughs, a little awkwardly, looking down at his coffee. How ]
I, uh. I super don't wanna sound ungrateful, but... I mean, I totally get that, like, for mutants, it's a part of your genetics, from birth. I can see how... kids growing up different might blame themselves, even though they didn't do anything wrong. And that sucks, and they definitely shouldn't.
[ Clarice, he thinks, had probably very badly needed somebody to say her own words to her, at some point in her life. He can recognize the kindness in that gesture. With the corner of his mouth twisting up into a little rueful smile, Cisco goes on: ]
But for metahumans... for me, it was somebody's fault. A specific guy. He planned the whole thing and sabotaged the particle accelerator just so it would explode and give people powers. I... literally am the way I am because he made me this way.
[ He's trying to explain it as plainly and neutrally as he can, but this stuff is close to the nerve, and it shows. There's something in his tone that suggests, despite the lack of specifics, that he's not talking about some random stranger, but that he knew the person responsible. ]
no subject
What happened? ( Her brows are drawn down, knitting together between her eyes. There's a fierceness about that, like if said person were here she'd quite happily portal them off the goddamn moon for Cisco. Even if they don't know each other that well, there's a pulse of something sympathetic inside of her. The world is a shitty place. ) To the guy? How many metahumans did he make? Or, I guess if you don't manifest them straight away that's pretty impossible to know. But was he caught?
( Did Cisco get justice? )
no subject
So it's nice, just to have that confirmation of his own anger, to know that it sounds to a stranger like something worth feeling angry over. ]
We don't know exactly, 'cause of the delay in powers showing up, yeah, and 'cause most metas just hide it and don't tell anybody. Our best guess was about 1% of the city's population, so around 2,600? That's just based on probability and a bunch of other stuff. Like my job involved trying to find metas and even I've only met, like, thirty. There's not a lot of us.
[ He knows that in Clarice's world, there are a whole lot more mutants than just a couple thousand. And here, in the Quarantine, it's always seemed to him that the percentage of people with powers is much higher. But then, that makes sense. They were looking for people who had abilities that could help this place.
He hesitates for a moment before answering the other question - he doesn't want to be cryptic or withholding, but he doesn't want to overshare, either. There's a brittleness to his voice that's new as he says: ]
He's dead. Actually more than dead. Erased from time. The... stuff he did stayed the same, but he evaporated, and- [ Cisco says the next bit all in a rush: ] -and you don't know me really well but just trust me that I'm not the kinda guy who would say this lightly but... but he. Deserved it. Not for making metas. That was going to happen eventually anyway, he just sped it up so it happened a few years sooner. But- but other stuff.
[ Cisco hopes, at least, that the difficulty he's having in saying all this will make it clear that he's not super interested in going into the details. He lets out a short sigh, summarizes: ]
He was about as straight-up evil as they come.
no subject
( Maybe Cisco needs to hear that. Clarice can tell there's something else, something more personal. She knows trauma, both in herself and others, can read it pretty well. And she wouldn't talk about it either, so she gets it. Instead she just reaches over and squeezes his arm once before dropping her hand. Zingo, more obvious about it, props her head in the man's lap and lets out a huff. )
One less evil bastard in the multiverse, right?
( Another smile, softer, but more honest. She won't push, but she hopes she's at least navigated it well enough so that he knows if he ever changes her mind, he can come to her. )
Have you been practising your power? I know you said some of it is pretty awkward, but the other stuff? The portals and the vibrations? ( This she can also relate to. ) John says it's about finding something positive to focus on. Bad stuff, it's harder to weild. But if you tap into the good in life, then it's easier to control. ( She shrugs, like she's not quite sure she believes it herself. She's tried that, and yet her power still flickers out when she needs it the most. But maybe she's getting there. ) Friends, family. Or like your presumably hot boyfriend.
( Now her energy is back and she gives Cisco a wicked smirk. She doesn't know what Eddie looks like, but she's going for it anyway. )
no subject
Right.
[ He toys with the idea of telling her that Eddie had been the one to kill him, but then thinks better of it. If he does that, he'll have to explain how, and there's just no way to explain that without getting pretty depressing. Some other time, maybe.
He's grateful when she steers the conversation back away from his past and to the present, and his powers. ]
I have. Not the breaches, yet. I made myself gauntlets, to help with the vibe blasts. So I can be more precise and not just break shit. Mostly I've been trying to- to get it so I can use my powers without being scared out of my mind first. For a while there that was sorta the only way I knew how. But- it sucked, so. Yeah.
[ Clarice, from the sound of it, is familiar with that phenomenon. If John had had to tell her that focusing on positive stuff was better, from the sound of it, she'd been focusing on negative stuff before. Which... seems like something they have in common. ]
Ain't no presuming about it.
[ He matches her smirk, but then a certain nervousness creeps into his expression, and he rubs at the back of his neck, asking: ]
I was actually wondering... what's it like for you, opening a portal? I mean- I... I've never actually tried that, before, and I kinda don't even know where I would start.
no subject
( For a second she struggles with finding the right words. She's not sure how to describe the feeling her powers give her. Mostly because she's still not as in control of them as she'd like. )
Exhausting? ( A shrug, a laugh. ) I mean, no it's useful. There's just all these limitations to it. I have to know where I want to go, I have to have been there before, and to know the direction I'm going in. Because you do not want to end up in the middle of the freeway, let me tell you that. ( Twisting her mouth slightly. ) And then there's keeping it open. I have to focus on it. If I don't they could snap back like a rubber band.
( Just for a moment, her thoughts turn to the first time. The blood, the fear, the guilt. Clarice is good at keeping it locked up tight, but sometimes it slivers back in. Sonya wasn't the only person she's ever had die from her mistakes. )
I'm working on it though. With John. I'm trying to learn how to keep my head when someone needs me.
( Clarice lifts her hands, her head tipping to the side. And then there's a crackle of light between her fingers, blue and purple waves opening in the middle of her palms. She keeps it small, like a porthole instead of a door, the other side showing a place in the park, the trees, the wind whistling suddenly into the apartment. She doesn't hold it for long, because she doesn't want to risk any wayward passerby losing a limb. )
It makes the delivery job a lot easier though.
no subject
He doesn't interrupt when Clarice goes quiet for a moment, seeming... Cisco's not sure. Angry at herself? Sad? Homesick? Her face is unreadable to him, apart from being able to tell that whatever is going on inside her, it isn't exactly happy. Then she says she's working on it, and starts opening a portal. It's louder than Cisco imagined and he leans in, mouth gaping in awe. He peers through, seeing that that is definitely somewhere outside on the other end of the portal.
She closes it before he gets to look for very long, which is a bit disappointing, but... he'd still seen what it looked like, and that was useful. Her joke about her job startles a small giggle from him. ]
No kidding! That's a pretty great gig, when you got a power like that.
[ And then, because fair is fair, and she'd let him ask questions and had shown him her power, he holds out his hand palm-up and, with a brief pause to take a deep breath, pulls some multidimensional energy into it. He knows that it is the energy he will need to manipulate, to make a breach of his own. It looks not quite like Clarice's had. For one thing, there is no sound - apart from an almost imperceptible thrumming. The energy is less like lightning and more like the patterns of light under water, a bright blue without a hint of the purple that had been in Clarice's own power. He just holds it there around his hand, shifting and glowing but harmless. It's a sign of trust. Saying he has powers is one thing. Giving proof of it is another. ]
no subject
( Her grin is wild, is bright all of a sudden. It's the same, but different and she leans forward to peer at the light with interest. His is silent, she finds she keeps straining her ears to listen for the sound her own makes, but it's pretty. It's pretty, and it's useful, and he shouldn't be scared of it. )
That's so neat.
( She looks up at him, still smiling. And then she's getting to her feet with purpose. ) Zingo, sit. ( Because now they've shared, she figures it's about time they talk about it in a much more practical manner. Clarice's portal starts small, widening with a rush of wind that flutters the pages of John's nearby book. The other side is empty unlike the park, without the risk of people severing their limbs. It looks like an abandoned warehouse. The pathway between her energy grows and grows until it's big enough to fit a person, and then she's glancing back his way. )
C'mon. I know the scientist in you wants to do whatever scientists do. I use this place to practise.
no subject
It's that new and exciting feeling of camaraderie that spurs Cisco on, to follow her through the portal. Normally, he would be too wary, despite how nice Clarice seems. Cisco's gotten killed once before, and he's understandably wary, now, about who he is with and where he is. This could be somewhere isolated, where there would be no help around should he need any.
But those thoughts, though they still cross his mind, seem trivial and unimportant. He only hesitates a half-second before following her through the portal. ]
Yeah, that's kinda been one of the things I haven't figured out yet. You know... somewhere to kind of work on this stuff without anybody seeing and without, y'know, ruining my workshop for the hundredth time.