trans_9 | Pocket-Sized [Closed]

Current Mood: irritated

Entry tags:

Pocket-Sized [Closed]

Despite how very strange her private adventures on the ship had been, Sherry was getting used to it. It was good to be adaptable, anyway, her old parents had said so, and her new parents agreed. She had managed to find herself a quiet little place in the sensoriums, and made it look like like a park she'd remembered from Raccoon -- before the zombies, of course. Sherry made a face at nothing and dropped herself on a blanket in the grass near one of the big, man-made lakes. A gaggle of geese waddled down the path a bit away, and the weather was sunny, with the promise of autumn on the wind.

While it was nice to sleep in the Precinct, it wasn't the same as sleeping in her own room, or even napping in the park. Like she was trying to today... only, it wasn't working as well. With a growl of frustration, Sherry say up and started pulling at the grass irritably. Her brain needed to turn itself off right now, so she wouldn't keep thinking about stupid things like all these new people or zombies, or school. Again.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Hey, this is a nice park," says a cheerful voice near the door.

Kon walks in and looks around, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.

"Sorry, I kinda like crashing the holodeck--people make a lot of nice places in here you wouldn't see otherwise."

Maybe, also, it worries him when little kids run around alone. And maybe also it worries him when they look sad or upset. He likes kids. Has to do, a little bit, with never really having been one, and being a big kid at the same time.

Sherry made a sound that could have been stuck between a squeal and a "WAUGH!", and jerked herself straight, the grass falling between her fingers.

...That was stupid, you don't address strangers with a half-strangled scream, she admonished herself. "Er, thanks," Sherry smiled sheepishly at Kon and stood up, brushing the fallen grass off her plant suit and hiding her hands behind her back. "I'm Sherry," she introduced herself politely, though her smile was still somewhere between awkward and sheepish.

"I'm Superboy. But you can call me Kon. I've got a couple names."

He plops into the grass and picks up the torn up grass, twiddling it between his fingers.

"So whatever did this poor grass do to you, huh?"

Sherry dropped herself back down onto the blanket in the reckless, almost boneless, way small children could and blinked at him. "Nothing. I just think better when there's something in my hands." A few days ago, it would've been her locket; now, it was the grass's job to keep her occupied. The grass was clearly a poor substitute.

"Except for the fact I wasn't trying to think, I was trying to nap." And Superboy sounded like some weird comic superhero, she decided. But what did she know? She liked TV better than comics, anyway.

"Do you want me to go? I don't wanna stop you from sleeping, especially since it's hard to get a Sensorium for a long time to sleep, and it's super gross trying to sleep in the cubbies here. It's like falling asleep stuffed up someone's nose," he says, wrinkling his own nose.

Sherry pulled a face in reply, wrinkling her nose and pulled up more grass. "No, it's okay. Mom and Dad," Boy, did that still feel weird to think, or what? "probably don't want me sleeping here, anyway. We sleep at the Precinct. It's a lot better than sleeping in 'someone's nostril'."

Thank you for that, by the way, she added mentally. Now I'll have nightmares about being shot into space through Stacy's nose while being chased by zombies. "You don't... actually sleep in those, do you?" Sherry's big blue eyes got bigger in horrified curiosity.

"Usually, yeah, but when I'm feeling cooped up, sometimes I just sleep out on Obs Deck where you can look at the window and see all the stars going past. I mind sleeping on what feels like spaceship less than sleeping in a nostril. I'm kinda used to spaceships a little," he says, tearing up the grass himself.

"I'm not," she admitted, and was pretty sure she wasn't going to be, in the grand scheme of things. "It's interesting to walk around and explore, but, I've been told not to wander too far away." Sherry paused for a moment, "But, that's really boring."

And Stacy was a big ship. "I don't go and play anymore - that's kid stuff - but I like wandering around."

"Hey, playing isn't kid stuff. Grown ups play sometimes, too--and if they don't, they should. There's nothing kiddie about having a snowball fight, or surfing, or playing superpowers, no-holds-barred frisbee tag."

"When was the last time you heard an adult say, 'Hey, I'm going out to play!', Mr Kon?" Sherry asked seriously. "I can understand--" her brain finally latched on to the key element in Kon's strange reasoning for play and stopped. "Did you say 'playing superpowers'?" Her brows drew together.

She'd probably give herself grey hairs before she was twenty if someone didn't help her out.

"Playing 'superpowers, no-holds-barred frisbee tag,'" he corrects.

That's when there's a slight Peter Pannish smile, and he touches the grass clippings, and they swirl up into the vague shape of what looks like a hula girl dancing.

"So, yeah. Superpowers."

The grass hula girl changes into a figure on a surfboard, catching some crazy grass-waves.

Sherry's eyes grew big as saucers, "Oh, wow!" It was kind of scary, kind of neat, and really, really interesting. "How do you... I mean... When... How does that work?!" She leaned closer to the grass clippings, trying to figure it out.

"Tactile telekinesis." (TM)

(Viewers at home playing the Young Justice/Superboy drinking game, take a shot!)

"It's kinda like moving things with your brain, but I can only do it to stuff I can touch, hence the tactile part. Also, I have super strength, and invulnerability, and super-hearing and heatvision, and a ton of other powers, usually. I just don't have 'em right now 'cause I need sunlight for 'em to work."

The grass turns into little grass people, break-dancing. If she looks, she'll notice that the grass is either touching his hand or touching other grass that's touching his hand, rather than just floating around on its own.

Edited 2009-08-11 06:32 (UTC)

Sherry sat back, watching the grass curiously, and absorbed his explanation. "That seems like a lot of abilities," she observed. She wondered if he ever got tired of it, though that didn't appear to be the case if he was used to playing no-hold-barred superpowered frisbee games. Too violent for Sherry's taste, but then again, she didn't have anything that set her apart from any other girl her age.

Unless one counted being extra clever during a zombie outbreak that had certainly taken all of one's classmates. "I guess that means you're monster-proof, doesn't it?"

"I eat monsters and giant robots for breakfast," Kon says. "That's what superheroes do--since the big, scary stuff doesn't hurt us as easily, or we can hurt it more easily, we go fight it so other people are safe."

Sherry's look clearly communicated what her words didn't: That sounds like a lot of bad indigestion, Mister Superhero. "That must be nice for the people where you're from. We don't have superheroes. Or, well... We do, like my mom and dad." And they were sheer awesome, if the pride in her voice was any indication.

"Though, they tend to shoot monsters until they don't move anymore. It's a very successful tactic."

"That...works, too. Sometimes the problem is our bad guys are people, though. Usually for the monsters and robots, we just blow them up, but the bad people we send to jail," Kon says, turning the grass into a marching robot, more comical-looking than scary.

"Who are your mom and dad? Are they cops or something? Or in the army?"

"Well, my dad's a cop, and Mom..." Sherry tried to think of a job description, but failed. "I really don't know what Mom is." Sherry shrugged. "They're both here, though, so I'm luckier than a lot of people, I guess."

Maybe Kon knew them, maybe not. Sherry wasn't sure. She shifted in her seat. "But, I feel a hundred-percent safe with them." And in the event she didn't, she was finding a vent and staying there for as long as she could.

"Oh yeah? Who are they?" he asks, curious as to who on the crew is a parent. It hasn't really occurred to him with with a lot of them that any of them could be. Most of the adults seem the types to be...unattached.

"And it sounds like you're really lucky to have parents that make you feel that way. I don't have any parents--I mean, I have an aunt and uncle, kinda, that took me in, and a..."

How does he explain Kal? There's a twirl of his hand and the grass, almost unconsciously erupts into the shape of a proud-looking, somewhat distant, but not intimidating figure with a billowing cape.

"--a mentor? Older brother? Kinda person. But I went most of my life on my own. I always kinda wondered what that was like to have parents. And to be a kid; I never was a kid, either." A slight grin. "I guess that's why I'm supposed to be a grown up soon and I still like goofing around like a kid."

"Leon Kennedy and Claire Redfield," Sherry said without the hitch she would've had a few days previously. The lie was fluid, and while still a little weird to think about, it had become more natural once she mantra'd it over and over in her mind. Sherry only hoped her new parents were doing the same thing. She watched the grass change and cocked her head to the side.

The people where he was from really liked their capes.

"Well, maybe that's okay. For now, just... it would be really annoying if I grew up before you did." Sherry shrugged, ever practical.

He'd say something about how he's not going to be a goof for THAT long, but--

"Leon? Seriously? He's your dad?" A pause. "Seriously?"

Sherry nodded, "Yes." Was that really so hard to believe? She wondered briefly if maybe their story wouldn't work, but it was too late for that now. "Why?"

"Dude's just super uptight. I didn't think he'd be the type with a kid."

You have to have sex to make those.

"I guess, but you probably see him when he's working, don't you?" And if that was the case, you'd better not be lying about being a superhero. "He's different with me." Obviously, since he actually kind of smiled and hugged her and messed up her hair.

Which she hated, and he knew that, but he did it anyway. "Mom, too. They're both really nice."

"Huh."

If possible, Leon Kennedy went up in a bit of esteem in Kon's eyes.

Good parents are...something he respects.

"Well, you're lucky to have 'em here. Although I wouldn't want my aunt and uncle here--they're kinda old, and it's dangerous sometimes."

Sherry nodded emphatically. "I know I am; otherwise, who knows what would happen to me?" That was an alternate Sherry never wanted to think about, to be perfectly honest with herself. She laughed a little bit - shortly and probably not as warmly as another kid her age would have, but still, a laugh was a laugh.

The wind ruffled her hair, and irritably Sherry smoothed it out again, affixing the bright red headband back in her hair. "I mean, if it can't be helped that we're here, we might as well be thankful for the small favors we've been given; tentacles and meatbeds not withstanding." Why yes, she was well-spoken for her age, wasn't she?

"It's not so bad here. Some favors aren't so small, y'know?" he says, letting the grass clippings finally fall to the ground.

"A lot of people seem to have come from worlds that didn't have such great stuff going on."

Edited 2009-08-13 02:13 (UTC)

"Yeah, I guess you're right." There was a But... behind that sentence, though the little girl didn't complete the thought. Sherry shifted, and pulled a knee up to her chest, to rest her chin there.

"Except for the part about the tentacles, and the weird headvoice, and the dinosaurs wandering around." No, she still hadn't gotten past that shock yet, why do you ask? Sherry smiled briefly at him.

"And the fact we still have to go to school." Not that she minded, but... she didn't want to be behind other people, it made her want to be competitive.

"You know, the funny thing is the part I'm least used to out of all of those things is the school. Man, I hate school."

He flumps back on the grass in a full body gesture of something almost akin to defeat, tucking a hand behind his head.

"I wouldn't even go, but I promised my friends I would. They're all worried about me falling behind and blah blah blah."

"It isn't so bad," Sherry reminded him. "Just memorization, isn't it?" Heaps and heaps of memorizing and repeating knowledge that may or may not even be useful someday. Sherry wondered why people thought Rote learning was so good.

"Personally, I like learning by myself. Not with other people." It was easier. "Not that it's entirely possible here. Mom and Dad want me to be with people my own age, since..." Since the zombie apocalypse ate my classmates. I'm sure you understand, right? "...stuff happened."

"It's boring. I like the stuff like writing better. And some history, like big battles and superhero history and stuff."

He picks at the grass where he lays, one arm still behind his head.

There's concern in his expression at the pause.

"What kinda stuff?"

"Zombie stuff," Sherry frowned. "Monster stuff." It was okay if he didn't believe her; there were moments Sherry didn't believe it herself. But if they went back to Raccoon, there wouldn't be anything there. So, it had to have really happened. She really had gotten sick, Claire really had saved her, there were monster plants, and monster people.

"I don't like talking about it, though." Sherry cleared her throat and looked back at the lake before changing the subject. "A-anyway... School's only boring if you make it boring. It's not so bad if you have people there that are like you." So long as they weren't totally stupid. But her school didn't hold with stupid children, she'd been told.

His expression goes even softer and more concerned. Zombies and monsters are...not things little kids should have to deal with. That's what superheroes are for. But he knows now some worlds just...don't seem to have them, and he wonders what it must be like for people to have to deal with monsters and zombies when they deserve to have someone else dealing with them for them.

One thing he decides is that a lot of people must be incredibly brave. Like the little tiny kid-bit person he's talking to right now. Just KNOWING that stuff exists, and also knowing there's nobody with a energy powers or alien rings or superstrength that are gonna stand in their way.

That only other brave people are gonna. Well...

Then again, if it was the Batfamily against a zombie invasion, he knows who would win. Normal people without powers can be amazing, a lot of the time.

He lets the subject change, though.

"I guess. There's not a lot of people that're like me though. I mean, I have my friends, but I don't know. I feel different from other people sometimes. I didn't start the same way as everyone else, most of what I know was dumped right into my head, no parents, no childhood, and I started being a superhero pretty much from when I broke out of the test tube they grew me in. I think that's why it's hard--I didn't have to go to school to learn a lot of what I knew, so I still haven't really learned how to...learn. If that makes any sense."

Edited 2009-08-13 04:57 (UTC)

"So... what your saying then, is that this is basically your childhood?" Sherry observed, treading carefully. She had to suspend her reality if she wanted to believe him, after all (how many adults did she know that came fully formed out of "test tubes"? The answer here was "zero"!). "Right?"

She worried at her lower lip a little, canting her head to the side to get a good look at his face. If he got mad, she would just hop up and run away. Superpowers or not, she was pretty sure she could surprise run away.

Possibly, maybe.

"How can it be my childhood if I'm a teenager, though? It doesn't work that way...does it?"

"Not usually," Sherry amended sheepishly. "But, if you don't have a childhood, wouldn't it be normal to treat your current life as a kind of proxy-childhood?" He didn't seem as jerkish as a lot of the other people his age, anyway. Well, his physical age.

And she could tolerate him, too. That was a plus!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Pocket-Sized [Closed]

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

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

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject