nexus_crossings | +1 small, superpowered boy

+1 small, superpowered boy

Today is a day Alex is especially glad he brought his pocket notebook with him, as it means he can take notes on the weird PSA. He doesn't seem scared, or even particularly surprised, as he jots down some quick things to remember to ask his dad about later - interdimensional stuff sounds like something out of his dad's sci-fi movie collection - and makes a note to himself to look for the door home after no more than an hour. That's probably enough time to look around around without also being so long his parents will notice and get worried.

Once he's got his notebook stashed away again, he starts off towards the direction he's fairly sure he came from, just to make sure the door is there. After a few moments, he winces and clutches his head. Apparently, headaches could travel across dimensions, too. Biting his lip, he carefully looks around, trying to gauge which adult looks the least likely to be annoyed by a kid. Eventually, when the headache throbs especially badly, he gives up that endeavor to approach the nearest person who doesn't look clueless and asks, as politely as he can manage, "Do you know where I can get some aspirin? My head is killing me and it's been long enough since I took some I can have some more. I think."

If time worked the same across dimensions it would have been easier to tell, but alas.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Ice Bear has cooked for a Korean TV show once. Ice Bear is actually going to start offering cooking classes here." If he doesn't have time for school, then at least he can offer up those skills to other people. Plus it's fun. "Ice Bear will bring you both."

Latkes are very similar to a dish the ursine has prepared in the past, so confidently he nods his head once more, unfazed by the request. "Fresh banana pancakes and latkes. Ice Bear is on it." The bear steps away for a moment, walking a few feet away to get the requested hot chocolate. He handles the drink like a pro, getting the temperature perfectly. When he returns to Alex, there's a warm white mug with the cafe's logo on it being offered. Ice Bear has even taken the extra step to create a cute little bear made out of whipped cream in the top of the mug.

"Authentic hot chocolate. Ice Bear's favorite warm drink in the winter." Some might find it intimidating to have a polar bear standing nearby, watching for approval, but Ice Bear loves getting the feedback on his up and coming barista skills.

"That's super cool. I've never been outside of Maine, before this. I wonder if I could learn how to cook? It'd be neat to know how to make stuff." It would certainly be better than having to resort to sandwiches whenever his parents were busy. Turkey on rye got boring after a while. And cooking lessons with a polar bear sounded amazing. "Thank you, Mr. Ice Bear."

He leans on the counter, massaging his head. The pain isn't too awful, but he's starting to reach the point where light sensitivity kicks in. Alex blinks it back as best he can, trying not to look like he's in pain. Everyone here is so nice. He doesn't want them to worry about him. Still, there's a moment where his eyes shut and he has to take a deep breath. Today has been rough.

The hot chocolate, though, seems to revive some of his cheer. He has to smile at the little whipped cream bear. There's something quaint and warm about this, all of this, that makes him feel like he can breathe. "Thanks." Cautiously blowing on it beforehand, he takes a sip, brightens, then takes another. "It's really good! I like that it's sweet." His dad always drinks his without sugar, because some people are weirdos, unlike the talking polar bear.

There's not really a covert way to take the aspirin with Ice Bear looking at him and Marie right next to him, but his head is pounding, so he'll just have to deal with some funny looks as he downs it. A gulp of hot chocolate later, he sighs, relaxing into his seat. Well, that's one problem solved.

"Ice Bear could teach you. Ice Bear can always create a kid-friendly cooking class." It's a thought that's crossed him mind, so hearing Alex talk about cooking with such excitement gives Ice Bear confidence that the concept would be well received. The praise gets a small blush from Ice Bear, but he never yields from his stoic position. "Ice Bear is glad that the hot chocolate meets your taste buds."

With that being said, Ice Bear bows politely, then heads off into the kitchen to begin cooking. It's one set of eyes on Alex as he takes the medicine, and to be frank, Marie seems unfazed by this sudden action. Her gaze shifts between Ice Bear and Alex, a glowing smile on her face, content to see the young boy being happy at a time like this. Most people would be scared, but there's a sense of fulfillment in knowing that she's helping, even if Ice Bear is clearly doing wonders for Alex.

She won't immediately say anything, just sitting quietly and watching Ice Bear do his work. There's something fascinating about seeing a polar bear makes pancakes, then immediately shift over to prepping noodles for ramen. How he can multitask so efficiently is beyond words. Watching Ice Bear makes to time fly by just a bit faster, and after a few minutes, he returns to the counter with a plate full of banana pancakes and latkes.

"That would be cool. I'd like to learn how to make challah without messing it up; it's my dad's favorite food, and it'd be cool to be able to give him some." He's not a food expert, but he likes seeing people happy. There's a surprising number of happy memories tied to eating together. He'd like to keep that going.

Alex awkwardly avoids looking at Marie for a few seconds, aware he's kind of uncool, but he glances over at her and sees her smiling. The contentment on her face relaxes him. There's something nice about grown-ups who don't get overly concerned about him, who don't ask him a ton of questions and just give him time to figure out what to say. Marie is nice. If he can find his way back home, he's definitely going to bring her some cookies (and Ice Bear, if bears like cookies).

Ice Bear is a marvel of a cook. Alex has seen his grandparents cook like a tag team, but Ice Bear is a one-bear army in terms of food production. He makes it all look easy, which would be cool even for a human. For a bear, who lacks thumbs, it's basically a miracle. It's fascinating. He doesn't mean to sit there and stare for a few minutes, but he does. The pancakes alone smell amazing. Coupled with the latkes, it's on a higher plane of awesome.

"Thanks, Mr. Ice Bear. I really appreciate this." This is the coolest day of his life.

"Challah. Type of bread. Ice Bear could teach that." The bear is very confident in his abilities to handle baking and seems eager to jump at the chance to stare those skills with another.

If Alex is worries that he's being uncool, then Marie really isn't taking it that way. Ironically, she's wondering if everything that's been done up to this point has been of help, which based on Alex's interaction with Ice Bear, is clearly going well. Interacting with kids has always been a weak point of hers, worried that she's being overly doting or protective.

"Ice Bear is glad that Alex is having a good time. Let Ice Bear know if you want more to drink, okay?" It's already an unspoken rule that he'll do just about anything within reason for polite children. As for Marie, Ice Bear places a warm bowl of ramen in front of her, along with a small plate of takoyaki. He looks at her sternly, then points one paw at Alex.

"Ice Bear thinks you should do more to help people directly. Isolation is a bad thing. Already seeing an improvement today."

Before she even gets the chance to object to his statement, another customer is calling out to Ice Bear. He steps away from the counter-top, leaving Marie looking flustered and embarrassed by those few spoken words.

Alex knows better than to talk with his mouth full, so he gives Ice Bear a smile as he chews his first bite of latke, clearly pleased. He's always wanted to learn that. There's a lot of things that he's wanted to try, really. He only lacks the confidence to try, but with a teacher, the idea isn't so intimidating.

Good food and people to eat it with are a comfort. His parents do their best, especially during the holidays; their best doesn't mean as many regular dinners together as any of them would like. Hanukkah in particular is always hit or miss, depending on where it falls in the year. Getting to sit with someone for a late dinner with breakfast food is a lovely substitute for what he's missing out on.

Or at least, it is until Ice Bear points his paw at Alex and calls him out. A million defensive statements rise up in him, instantly. He's only a kid, so of course his first reaction is to say it's not his fault. It isn't, is it? Alex doesn't know how most people would react to his powers, except for a few who've seen him and promptly been freaked out. The only people who accept him are his parents. Nobody else can deal with the inherent mindscrew of what he does or the implications or either magic or something else in a very grounded, non-magical time and place. There's safety in sticking to his room, to his dad's lab, to places that are familiar and quiet.

But he could do a lot more good if he got over his nervousness around people. That's not up for debate. He turns to his food, staring at it and fiddling with his fork, before speaking to Marie.

"Sometimes I have to be isolated. I get headaches, I get tired, I've even passed out sometimes. It's not all on purpose." Some of it is, but... it's not all his fault. He's not a bad kid. Is he? He glances over at Marie as if seeking answers.

Even if Ice Bear is blunt and honest, his words and behaviors are cryptic to Marie, especially since her nor the bear know about Alex's secret. To them, he's just another boy from Maine and he's Jewish, based on the food preference. However, she takes a moment to think about what he's said and finally the statement he left them on makes sense. She reaches over and places one hand on Alex's shoulder reassuringly.

"I think he was scolding me with that comment. Lately, I've been neglecting a few things and spending quite a bit a time here by myself. Ice Bear seem to really like you and it seems like he was trying to make a point that you're a good influence on me." Although, he could've just pointed at her, since it wasn't hard to spot his determined gaze staring at her for so long. "After all, you're just a normal kid who's done nothing wrong."

There's a few questions on her mind about what Alex said, however, Marie isn't one to poke around for answers. Instead, she removes her hand and just nods calmly to him. "Don't worry about your headaches for now. Just let me know if there's anything else I can do, alright?"

This is, in theory, everything that he's ever wanted. Everyone thinks he's normal. He's like any other kid, headache aside. Nobody is fussing over him as if he's a chronically ill, fragile kid who might keel over any second. No one's talking to him about powers in tired or accusative tones. This should be perfect. Instead, he finds himself weighing his options, thinking over what Ice Bear said, because this atmosphere where people just roll with weird things... that means he could make friends, right?

He shakes his head. "No, Marie. I don't want you to feel guilty for something that might be about me. I am trying to help people back home. And, um. I'm not normal. That's why I can get kind of isolated, I guess. It's weird and complicated. But maybe Ice Bear thought we could be friends? So he looked at both of us because of that."

Alex directs his gaze back to his food, eating another delicious bite of latke before carefully pouring just the right amount of syrup onto the pancakes. "I don't need anything else. This is fine."

There's something about telling one person that things are okay when oneself is going through a difficult struggle. Hearing Alex say he's not normal doesn't exactly surprise Marie, but now she's worried about her own abnormal powers being revealed. Can Alex tell she's not fully human? Regardless, she hides any concern and takes his news calmly and without judgement.

"All of us are different in our own ways. The important thing is to figure out what kind of person you want to be. Normal. Special. These are just words we use to label ourselves and others with. What matters in the end is living a life you're happy with." There's a bit of concern that she's dropped some deep philosophy of life onto a young kid, but somehow she images Alex is mentally older than his age dictates.

"If you would like me to be a friend, supportive adult...whatever you need of me. I'll be there, Alex."

"No, I mean - some people are different on purpose, or different as in talented, but I'm different as in weird. And weird-bad, not weird-good. That's why it's not easy for me to live a life I'm happy with. Because I keep messing things up, or what I can do messes things up."

He looks at her, tired and serious. Too serious, for his age. His exhaustion is obvious and probably a little disconcerting. He knows all the reasons his dad has told him he should stay quiet about his powers. Alex is old enough to understand they're not unfounded concerns. There are a million reasons why isolation is a necessity in his life and he knows he can't just tell any random stranger.

But he's eleven. He's too young to do everything alone and too old to keep up the blind trust in his parents' insistence on silence that he used to. "I need... someone to give me advice. Someone who's not related to me. But I'm scared if I tell you what's going on you'll think I'm crazy."

"Alex...It's easy to hold such serious things over yourself, but it's definitely not good for your health, mentally or physically." Seeing his exhausted face brings concern to her own, and without thinking, her hand is already placed on the countertop, palm open and for the taking.

"I'll do my best to give you advice, but if anything, getting those thoughts off your chest might help in a way. We can look for the answers together." Bold and brave words coming from someone who has no idea what Alex is experiencing, let alone is always struggling with her own powers. But sitting here and doing nothing is heartless, thus Marie is willing to take a risk. "What you tell me stays between us, okay?"

He hesitates, but after wiping his hand on his napkin to be extra-sure he's clean, he puts his hand in hers. His skin is cold, without being clammy. He's always cold. And he thinks he knows why, even if he isn't sure that other people will believe him if he tries to talk about it. Alex nods at her words, aware that she's right. Worrying all by himself keeps him up sometimes, makes his stomach twist when he's trying to eat. He's not sure it's unhealthy as in doing permanent damage, but it's not fun.

Alex nods. "Okay. You're probably right, Marie. My parents talk to each other when they're worried about things and that helps them, after all." He takes a deep breath, tries to pick good words, and starts. "I have superpowers. I guess. A superpower, anyway. And using my power-thing is what's making me sick, but I want to help people, so I keep using it. Even when I promise my parents not to."

...is he in trouble? It feels like he should get in trouble, for that.

In contrast, her skin feels warm to the touch, not an uncomfortable heat but similar to sitting in front of a roaring fire. It's probably the one indicator that she's hiding powers of her own, and unless pressured to talk, that secret will stay hidden. This is about helping Alex, first and foremost.

"I'm not an expert on powers, but I've learned that different skills each have limits. If you put yourself through too much stress, then physical and mental weaknesses are inevitable. I'm not against your idea of helping others, but maybe finding a trainer can help?" She's not upset, just curious as to why a things child wants to get involved in adult things. Then again, she wonders if Alex if gets a say in the matter, or if his powers are being manipulated by other people. "What kind of powers do you have?"

He's surprised by how warm she is, but in his opinion it's kind of nice. Warm hands, warm heart, right? Or maybe that's the childish optimism he's still hanging onto despite knowing things could easily go wrong. He wants to believe people are good, in general.

Alex sighs, pursing his lips. "There's no way to find a trainer back home. Nobody can know I can do things. Magic or superpowers or other stuff like that, they're not supposed to be real, there. My dad's a scientist so he's been trying to help me figure out my limits, but that's all we can do. And he tries really hard, but..." Well, there's only so much a scientist could do in the face of something blatantly in violation of many, many laws of science. There are a lot of unknowns. Alex bites his lip, hesitating, before admitting, "I can be in two places at once. Not teleporting, it's - there will be two me's. Not astral projection, either, 'cause I can touch things and do things in both places. I've tried. I, um. I can't really explain what it's like to see and hear twice as much stuff, but it's part of what makes the headaches afterwards so bad, I think."

Does that make sense? More importantly, does she think he's weird, now? He watches her face intently, shyly ducking his head into his scarf.

Marie sits and listens quietly, taking in what Alex is saying carefully, trying to understand how his powers work. Unfortunately, this isn't her area of expertise and the best thing she can do is nod her head and be compassionate, having very little advice she can give. The ability to be in two places at once is something out of a comic book, and a power she's never truly heard of before.

"I...I wish I could help in a better way. Having a power that's hard to control and wanting to help people, I get that." She's surprisingly calm throughout the ordeal, but seems sad that she's unable to provide more wisdom. "Maybe we can look into a teacher here in the Nexus? I can ask around, see if there's someone who can help."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

+1 small, superpowered boy

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject