oh baby, it's a long way down

“Apologies, mon chér.” Olivier raised his hand to his chest, lowered his head, and backed up to put enough space between them. “Ah’m so use ta Arlo, ya forgive me?” Olivier was a tactile person, he tended to touch people he liked when he talked or entered their personal space without realizing he’d done it. For the rest of the conversation, he leaned back against a wall nearest him to keep from moving toward her again. At least there were no people around anymore, off somewhere in the mansion studying or the like.

“Through time?” Olivier had always wanted to do that, but he hadn’t had the chance to touch a speedster. He could now. There were a few around, but he wasn’t about to borrow someone else’s power without asking first. He shoved his hands in his pocket. “Did it feel like ya ran for a long time?”

Lupe shook her head. “It’s alright just-- It gets harder to control my powers when someone’s close.” The closer someone got, the less they were part of the background hum of emotion and the harder it was to block them out. Like someone speaking a language she understood in a sea of unintelligibility. But he didn’t know that, so she forgave him.

That statement reminded him of Arlo which made him burst out with laughter. Oh yeah, they’d get along just fine. When Olivier managed to get a grip of himself, he beamed, “O’course, cher. We ‘preciate da backup.”

“Lupe, you get ‘ere how?” Olivier couldn’t remember if he’d asked her that yet, and he was curious. So curious, he stepped closer to her without realizing it and was now looking down at her buzzing for an answer.

Lupe could feel his mirth, infecting her without her even trying. She’d had people before tell her they didn’t like her knowing how they were feeling all the time, that it was near impossible to hide from her, but they didn’t understand. She couldn’t help it, it was just everywhere for her. Overwhelmingly so when she was younger. It was manageable now at least. She didn’t like being called back-up, but she let it slide with a smile. “Sure.”

“Ain’t really what ya wanna hear, uh? Ah almos’ wish it was sometin’ like nature.” Olivier thought maybe nature would be easier to handle. People tended to be trickier in his opinion. Especially when one had no inkling of the culprit what so ever.

Olivier was almost at a loss, but he knew for sure one thing. “We gotta protect dis timeline for it messes wit ours.”

“No, not exactly,” Lupe grumbled. “People are harder to deal with. They fight back.” They could be tricky, smart, and expecting push back. Nature didn’t care as much. But she could feel her annoyance beginning to spill out of her and into her surroundings. Lupe held back a curse as she reigned it in quickly.

“Ah…” Olivier hadn’t really found out much in the time he’s been here. Raising his hand to the bank of his neck, he grinned and shrugged, “Don’t tink dey were made by accident. S’all ah got righ’ now.” It wasn’t much. It was actually probably an obvious fact because these portals were only on institute grounds.

“Shame, Arlo’s good company.” Olivier felt someone coming close to them, and he knew they shouldn’t be talking about this out in the open so he stepped closer to kind of guide Penelope away. “Ya might like ‘im.”

Penelope sighed. That wasn’t a lot, but it was also an incredibly important piece of information. They weren’t working against some natural phenomenon. Someone would be fighting back against them. “Great.” 

It was visible in their body language when they both relaxed. “You right, Penelope. Ain’t ‘ere for no vacation.” Olivier chuckled, happy to know that she was here to help now. As far as Olivier knew, they expected just his team to work on this. Hopefully, it’d be easier to figure out what the hell was going on with her help. Portals kept popping up and they were getting no closer to finding the cause, then solution.

“Arlo Summers ‘ere too, ya know of ‘im?” He should probably expect an answer to that since the Summers family were pretty damn famous.

It’s a relief really to find another like her. To know for certain she’s not alone here. “No. Unfortunately not,” she replied with a nod, but unable to keep the smile off her face nonetheless. “Any progress on... anything?” God, where did they even begin? They were really driving blind here. Lupe still hadn’t processed the fact that she was here, upstairs somewhere.

Her father had always said stuff like that. Especially in dangerous situations. When Lupe was little, she used to hate if he left them behind to go and take care of something. She wouldn’t tell him what she feared for a long time. Not until after her speed manifested. What if you never come back? she’d asked, fear bleeding out of her. I never take the easy option. Hearing him say it now, she couldn’t help the startled laugh. Apparently he never changed.

Arlo would probably be kicking Oli right now if he could have. There were easier ways to get what they wanted when they wanted, but Oli hated that way. It was always in the back of his mind, scratching and scratching until he’d use it. He ignored that nagging feeling and licked his lips. She said a place like this, but that could mean anything. He’d just have to take a chance.

“I didn’t, but it’s…” It was now or never. If she wasn’t whom he thought, then he’d have to play it off like it was a joke. “I’m Olivier Raven-LeBeau, goin’ by Belmont. An’ you?”

Lupe relaxed somewhat. Finally. She should’ve gone through proper channels, but when you could run yourself so fast you could effectively time travel... She had never had the patience to wait around for others. Empathise with them? Yes, to the extreme. But wait? Not when people’s lives were at stake (though her patience was wanting most of the time her mother would tell her. She got it from her father). But now she had found someone else like her.

“Tanks, chérie.” Intense wasn’t exactly a word anyone would use to describe Olivier. Right now however, he was probably staring at her with such intensity his eyes could burn a hole through her. What was the phrase they were supposed to use when they found each other? Damn him. Telepathy scared the life out of him, so he never used it despite it’s many, many advantages. So he’d have to just ask and look like a weird person or be right.

“Where ya come from, ah?” Easiest way to ask without outright asking, but she could take it wrong and think he actually did mean where and not when. That didn’t come to him quick enough though.

He didn’t seem to have ill intent in asking her. Not that Lupe could read anyway. He was... curious. She met his eyes for a moment before looking away. It was hard to explain how much that could increase the reading for her, but the way he looked at her was too much at the moment. She needed to get her powers back under control.

Pietro can’t help but feel guilty, as if he’d been the one to do it to her. Technically he had, she was his daughter after all and it was a mutation inherited from him. He should have warned her. Yeah, this one was definitely his fault. 

He looks down at her smile though, knowing she would never blame him. If she knew he blamed himself, his daughter was sure to vehemently oppose. “Of course, of course I will,” he says softly as he smooths her hair away from her face. “Lesson one, don’t get scared. Lean into it, just like with everything else.”

Lupe can feel his guilt, permeating from him in a way that was so hard to explain to anyone but her mother. Even to Roza, it was difficult to explain--the difference was her mother didn’t need her to explain to understand. She saw the world the way Lupe did. Coloured by emotions no one else saw. But she’d learnt not to give away what she saw. People didn’t like it, especially when they tried to hide it.

Pietro rubs giant circles over her back, eyes closed as he focuses on keeping his breath even so she subconsciously mimics it. A technique he picked up when she was just a baby. It’d worked then and it worked whenever she was upset. He hums at her question, not letting her go as he answers. “It’s an inbetween place,” he murmurs but there wasn’t much more he could say, not without scaring her.

He pulls away and his hands move to hold hers tightly as he looks into her round eyes. She looked so much like her mother and yet those eyes reminded him of his own and his sister’s. Smiling softly though he’s still full of anxiety, he tells her. “Look at you, my little speedster. I have so much to teach you.”

Lupe can feel his anxiety no matter how hard he tried to hide it. He was worried about her, she knew it. She couldn’t feel it in that inbetween place, but she could feel it loud and clear now. Even so, he knew how to calm her down. How to soothe her. 

Pietro could only hope she could cool down enough to follow his directions. She’d always been a good girl, learning her powers steadily and listening to Roza. He hoped she could do the same with this. It was a hard power to control in an entirely different way. One that could be cataclysmic to everyone around them if they couldn’t get a handle on this. There was a reason the Professor wanted to keep him close, though he hadn’t known it at the time.

Taking a deep breath himself, his knuckles rap on the porch anxiously as he waits for her to either respond or catch on. To her it must have been hours, but to him it’s only a matter of minutes before she’s materializing in front of him on the other side of the writing. He lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and grabs her, pulling her into his chest and embracing her so tight he might crush her. “Good girl,” he says after another deep breath. “You caught on a lot faster than I did.” He doesn’t notice the unintentional pun, too caught up in feeling the weight of her in his arms with relief.

When the world finally returns to normal, Lupe has tears streaking down her cheeks. But she can hear again, hear the birds and the rapping of her papi’s knuckles, she can smell the familiar scents of home. The world is real again, something she can touch and not simply observe. She falls into Pietro’s arms, wrapping her arms tight around him as she tries not to cry. The last thing she wants is to get too upset and end up getting stuck again.

Pietro can only imagine the look on her face when she reads his message. He’d been pissed when Wanda told him what he needed to do, he felt condescended to, like she couldn’t understand how out of control he was. How alone. But it was the only thing that would help her. Her response came as quickly as he expected, the pen leaving his hand for a fraction of second. He traces the letters with his fingers, feeling his heart ache. “I am helping, baby girl,” he sighs.

The pen touches the porch again and he’s already dreading having to buy paint to cover it all up. I KNOW. FOCUS. YOU CONTROL THEM, THEY DON’T CONTROL YOU. He knew what it was like all of the microscopic molecules buzzing around your body like you’re getting buried in sand that was alive and grabbing at your skin. It was terrifying. But she had to breathe, she had to realize she had control over it but it was her emotions getting in the way. BREATHE.

She shoves the pen back in his hand, wanting more answers. Answers that were more than simply slow down. That’s the problem, she wants to scream. She can’t slow down! That’s why she’s stuck. And she can feel herself only getting faster. Pietro seems to slow even more, and Lupe can feel tears forming in her eyes. What if she never got unstuck? What if she was trapped here forever?

Anxiety was mounting inside of him. Pietro might not be an empath but he was her father and he could feel her restlessness. When he was stuck in the between it was like torture. It was lonely and mind numbing and he felt like he’d never make it home. But he’d had Wanda to light the way, and he had to be that light for his daughter somehow. “Shit,” he growls, running his hand through his hair. He steps out of the house further, casting a look at Roza before he shuts the door. “I’ll find her. I promise.”

Unlike Wanda, he didn’t have magic to manipulate time. He couldn’t send anyone or anything to her, not even a message. But then he stops at that thought. A message. Maybe he didn’t need to speed up entirely, just a part of him. Running inside of the house, faster than before but nowhere near fast enough to get stuck, he finds a sharpie. When he returns to the porch, he starts to write in big block letters, hand moving faster than the eye can see: SLOW DOWN.

Lupe can feel herself vibrating though she feels like she’s standing still. Moving impossibly fast and  feeling like she could only go faster. Even when she was standing still, she’s moving. Before Pietro shuts the door, she darts inside. Running through the house, hoping Pietro could hear or see her. No one else had any hope, but her father was the fastest person she knew. If there was any hope of her being seen, it was him. 

Living a domestic life in the world as it was now meant something different. It felt a lot like how Pietro grew up. Always on alert, always ready to be on the move. Time was fragile and that meant rules didn’t apply the way they used to, and neither did laws. But they kept themselves moving, finding the safest place for Lupe that they could so she could lead a next to normal life. Staying at Xavier’s mansion wasn’t an option, not after they realized what it really was, or where it was to be more precise. It was safer to stay away from the X-Men as a whole. But that didn’t mean they were far from harm.

Pietro felt it the moment it happened, like he felt every disturbance in the turning of the Earth and the progression of time around him. He felt something fall through the cracks though his wife sat none the wiser, a book open in her lap. “Lupe…” he murmurs before he hears the scream. He looks up but the look on Roza’s face is confusion rather than distress. “She’s stuck.” That’s the only way he could describe it. He’d been there before, the loophole between every millisecond. The world between worlds. Where you were the only one moving and everything was still around you. That meant… It’s a moment he should feel proud of, his daughter coming into his power, but all he can feel is a distress so sickening he thinks he might puke. He needed to get her out.

He stares at the world around him, willing it to slow down as he walks the perimeter of the house. She was outside. He opens the door, but he sees nothing. He wouldn’t be able to see her it seems but he could feel her and maybe she could hear or see him. “Lupe?” he calls, stepping onto the porch looking like he’s calling a child in from playtime.

It feels like an age before anything happens. Before she can see any movement at all the house. She knows, somehow, that it’s barely been a few seconds since her running changed from a normal speed and catapulted her into this static reality, but time moves differently. Penelope manages to loop the outside more than once before the door even starts to open. “Dad!” She’s in front of him in an instant, trying to get him to see her. But it’s like she’s invisible. The world isn’t moving at all. Pietro is, but it’s still slow. It’s still out of sync.

a   twinge   take   residence   upon   her   dark   brow   ,   as   the   breathlessness   of   something   vague   as   mist   runs   rampant   round   in   her   mind.   people   are   cursed   (?)   with   the   capability   of   wearing   time   and   hours   just   as   they   did   clothing   and   masks.   the   scar   on   an   arm   ,   the   wrinkles   by   the   eye———   all   of   them   rooted   and   earned   in   the   places   of   a   memory.   but   this   similarity   ;   could   it   be   genuine   ?   it   all   seems   bizarre   ,   filling   the   air   with   an   odd   sense   of   trepidation.  

                                     she   relents   ,   dismally.   if   only   to   stop   the   feeling   of   nausea   that   rises   beneath   her   tongue   like   the   tide   of   an   ocean.

❝      oh   ——————   i'm   sorry.      ❞   the   tone   of   her   voice   carries   not   of   the   weight   of   the   frown   that   flashes   across   roza's   face.   it   vanishes   like   a   foregone   vision.      ❝      well   then   ,   welcome   to   the   school   !   my   name   is   roza   ,   it's   nice   to   meet   you.      what   was   it   again   that   you   were   searching   for   ?      ❞      freckled   cheeks   blush   to   meet   bright   eyes   and   warming   smile.  

Lupe almost breaks as Roza apologises to her. As she sees the twinge on her mother’s brow. She wants to tell her the truth, to confess who she was. But she couldn’t. Not yet. If she had her timelines right, she herself would be just upstairs. Walking and talking but so so little. Lupe didn’t remember much from her time at the Institute. Vague flashes of memory.

@accxleratxd

Twelve year old Lupe had never exactly had a normal life. Not with her genes. Not with her parents. Not with how the world was. Not when she had been able to sense the emotions of everyone around her since before she could remember. It was hard to ignore, harder to block out entirely. But she’d learnt to manage, even if being in large crowds exhausted her still. It felt like being a sponge, soaking up every emotion--the good and the bad--until sometimes she lost herself in it. Luckily for her, her mother had been there to guide her. To show her how to control her powers enough to live.

Until today, the only mutation she had from her father was the streak of white hair that had always grown from her otherwise dark head of hair. Until she was running home one night and suddenly it was like the wind had grabbed her and flung her forward. Until the world almost blurred around her, and everything seemed to slow down. Lupe had ground to a halt, looked around, and saw what appeared to be a bird hanging still in mid-air. She stopped and stared for what felt like seconds, but couldn’t have been more than half an actual second. Then she kept running until her feet came to a proper stop outside her home.