[He smiles the way she smiles. It's strange to realize, when it's directed at her. Do other people feel like she doesn't care enough about them to really smile? Most of them might be right, but at the same time real smiles take a certain level of energy that she rarely has to give. She wonders what his reason is.
Vanya lets him talk, listening instead of commenting. That's her standard, really: even when she's part of a dialogue, she feels like she may not really be welcome in it. He hasn't made her feel that way, but most people don't; that doesn't stop Vanya from feeling it.]
...Yeah. Yeah, it is. I - when I was a kid, I was the normal one. I mean, I was the ordinary one till a few days before I was brought here, but-- [Neither here nor there. She shrugs a little, back to just slowly destroying her cake.] But it always felt like I was in the way of something more important. And that just started to be...normal, I guess.
[Would she ever have stopped, if Leonard hadn't put it in her head? Would she ever have tried to take that back for herself, or would it have taken someone else to make her realize how much she apologizes? Vanya wishes she had that answer, because her faith in herself is at an all time low.]
[ When it's Derek's turn to listen, he tries to relate to what she has to say and he can't. His mother always told her children how special they were. He never wanted for attention or affection before the fire. Even after, Laura did her best. He'd shut her out because he'd known it was his fault that everyone else died, but she'd tried.
So he doesn't really know how to react to her saying that she was the "ordinary" one and that she'd felt like she'd been in the way of something more important.
Derek's experienced a lot of loss and a lot of pain, but he at least always knew that his mother and sisters had loved him and that he mattered as much to them as they meant to one another; he was never superfluous just because his eyes were blue instead of gold or he was a boy instead of a girl. He can't imagine not knowing that he belonged.
So instead, he nods and he gives her a sympathetic smile. He wishes it were empathy but he can't empathize with a feeling that's completely foreign. Feeling less than growing up is entirely different than self-isolation as an adult. ]
Well, making friends with people is a good start to normal, right? So I guess you're kind of stuck with me.
[ To that, he offers her a lopsided grin and then finishes off the last of his sandwich, washing it down with a long pull from the straw in his iced tea. ]
How fucked up are we that our 'getting to know you' conversations are about the worst parts of ourselves? We are bleak.
[ And...in spite of the truth behind that comment, Derek huffs a little laugh, rolling his eyes at himself. ]
[He can't know that normal is a difficult word for her, and she barely bats an eye when he says it. She started it, after all, so she can hardly hold him accountable.
(One day, maybe, she will realize that she is much easier on near-strangers than she is on her own family, but that day is not likely to be in the near future.)
Vanya smiles in response; it's small, still a little unsure. But that's a reflection of herself, of the doubt that exists in every social interaction she enters, and less of the small ways his actions and words overlap with Leonard's.
(Okay. They don't feel that small. They feel very big, and they're going to start a fight in her head. But she can save that for later.)]
Extremely fucked up.
[She wonders how he does that so easily, laughing at himself like it costs nothing.]
But I guess we were kidnapped by some possessed AI, so it seems kinda fitting?
[ It isn't lost on Derek that there's a disconnect between the small smiles and whatever might be going through her mind. He can see it in her body language and he can smell it on her; he's just shy of choking on her chemosignals and they're so heavy that he can't pick them apart to identify one from another, he just knows that they don't match what she's trying to make him see.
Someone really fucked her up. Someone really, really did a number on Vanya and he feels a flare of anger that falls away as quickly as it cropped up because she clearly cares about people. She cares about whether or not she hurts them. She cares about whether or not they're afraid of her or whether or not they should be. She's made that pretty transparent to him, whether she meant to or not. There's nothing about her that suggests to him that she deserves to feel all of the negative feelings he scents in the air, tainting the smell of coffee and food.
Why do the good ones always end up feeling the most pain?
Paige flashes into his mind again, begging for him to make her pain stop. The top half of Laura's body in the woods behind their old house. Imagined expressions on his cousins' faces, chained to the wall as the house went up in flames because they were too small to control their blood lust but too large to be contained by their parents. Watching the light leave Boyd's eyes inches from Derek's.
Derek was good once. He was arrogant, but he was good. After everything he's been through, sometimes he wonders if he's still that guy or if "that guy" grew up and any semblance of him died in the fire he survived. Maybe that's why he gives so much more weight to everyone else's pain and his own just...is what it is.
But Derek can act, too. So he shugs and smiles a little. ]
Who needs normal when you can be kidnapped, thrown into a new universe where you're an involuntary celebrity, and the government wants you to register yourself as a hero but doesn't want to tell you what you're supposed to be acting as a hero against. Here's to fucked up.
[ He lifts his plastic cup a little as if in toast and rolls his eyes playfully. ]
[The smile this time is a little more honest, like a sliver of sun peeking through an overcast day. She picks up her coffee cup in response, a silent toast. To being fucked up: that's about as close as she's come in a long time to accepting her lot in love, and with more levity than she can usually muster.]
Yeah. Who needs normal?
[There's a strange sort of relief to saying that, and Vanya is not entirely sure of the feeling. She's not ordinary, she never was, and the fact that she couldn't fit in anywhere - at home, or school when Dad sent her away - wasn't her fault.
Not entirely, at least.]
I guess you've been to Nonah, then? [She wound up there on her first day, and almost made a morning into a very bad day for a few excitable residents. She wonders if the street lights have been replaced yet: they were way too twisted up to work by the time Allison and Diego found her.]
[ Derek takes another drink and then sets the cup back down on the table, shaking his head. ]
No, that's just what I've heard. I'm personally planning to avoid fans like the plague if I have them. I don't know why I would, but to each their own, I guess. I haven't come across a reason to go to Nonah, yet, so it's kind of at the bottom of my list.
[ His eyebrows lift, though, because... ]
Sounds like you're asking from experience? Is it really that bad?
[ He looks sympathetic to that because he doesn't think he'd take that sort of thing very well, either, but the whole reason they're here is the discussion around the fact that her whole thing is that her emotions control her powers more than she does and he can only imagine that being mobbed like that would cause a pretty emotional reaction. ]
Shit. I would, too. I mean, I'm mostly going to, anyway, but I really would if I'd gotten mobbed when I first got here.
[ This shift in the conversation makes him want to bring up her abilities again to see if she's decided she doesn't want his help or whether she's just not ready to start. He worries that bringing it up will be pushy and awkward, but a part of him wants so badly to be able to help somebody, like maybe if he can, it'll help assuage his guilt for the gigantic failure he'd been for Isaac, Erica, and Boyd. ]
I'm glad you came out, you know. Here, I mean. It's nice to meet you in person. I'm not really big on the whole online thing. It's a good start, but I always prefer in person.
[It's out before she can stop it. That's another thing she almost-misses about her meds: they made her tongue slow, so she could, at least sometimes, stop those stupid little expressions of disbelief. Vanya ducks her head, and though her face says she wants to apologize, she bites her tongue for a moment instead.]
I mean, I'm - I'm glad I did, too. I'm just not usually very good at this kind of thing. I'm not better online, [She actually thinks she might be worse,] but. Thanks, for, um. Asking.
[Maybe it's because he's nice. Because he says things that mean he's glad for her presence and because even though her first instinct is to doubt she also kind of believes him - maybe it's that.]
Um--
[But it's also because he makes her think of Leonard in the worst ways, the ways that take her head right back to his house, to the journal, to every knife in the kitchen impaling his chest--
She looks down at her coffee again, sips at it to find her voice again.]
I don't want - I don't want you to think that I don't want to figure out how to control my powers. I'm just--
[Extremely fucked up over the fact that her first real boyfriend directly manipulated her into trying to kill her siblings. She still can't remember a lot of what happened after that night in the cabin - how they left, how she wound up at Leonard's house. It's like she was in a fugue for most of it, already mourning.]
I just don't know if I'm ready. Yet.
[Yet, because she'd like to be, some day. And she can't quite bring herself to say it, but she doesn't hate the idea of trying to learn with him.]
[ A surprised huff of not-quite-amusement escapes Derek at that question. Why wouldn't he be glad to meet her in person? It wouldn't have made sense to invite her out if he didn't want to meet her... ]
Yeah, really. I'm not...great at this, either. I haven't made a friend for the sake of making a friend since high school, if that gives you any idea. So, you're not alone in that, at least.
[ He watches her as she struggles to find the words for whatever it is she wants to say next, patient and silent to let her get through it. Empathy crosses his expression and he gives a subtle wave of one hand to dismiss the explanation. ]
Vanya? It's none of my business. When or if you want to work on it, with or without me, that's all you. No explanation needed, seriously. But just...you know. If you want me to try to help, I want to try to help. Just let me know when, if that's the case. If it never is, that's fine. We can still do this, you know?
[This kind of open ended, no requirements needed offer of friendship is the single thing she has wanted most, all her life. She never had it at the Academy, no matter which sibling drifted closer during which year: they were always separate, and Pogo was...she doesn't want to think about him.
No one offered this at school, or college, or out in the world. No one until Leonard, and that is why however badly she wants to crow and be excited and just enjoy that there's finally someone else in her life that just wants to be her friend, she can't ignore the ugly twist in her stomach that stretches all the way up her throat. She actually feels nauseous for a moment, but the moment passes and she exhales slowly.
He's not Leonard. He doesn't have an ulterior motive, and if she does--
Then she'll break her heart again and add one more name to the list of people she's killed, probably. It's hard to acknowledge that, to see that this might hurt, and go for it anyway. But when she nods, she smiles, and it may be tentative, but it's still real.]
I do. I mean - it's better than grabbing coffee alone, right?
[ His heart aches for her when there's some hesitation like she has to think about whether she really wants to let someone in a little bit. He knows the feeling and that's why he aches. It would be so easy for Derek to shut out everyone around him and be a recluse and, honestly, he did that for several years. It just...gets too lonely and he's a pack animal. He needs a pack. He's trying to slowly build one for himself; they don't have to be werewolves to be pack. Scott taught him that. He'll probably never admit how grateful he has been for that lesson from the younger, bitten wolf.
But then she smiles and nods and Derek returns the smile. If she's willing to give him a chance, he's willing to give her a chance and they can both learn together that not everyone is out to get them. ]
Good, I'm glad. And yeah, it's definitely better than getting coffee alone. I meant it when I said I'd come to you next time. We can take turns. That way, neither of us is going out of their way a hundred percent of the time.
[It's like he's going out of his way to be kind, or to make this easier. She can't say she doesn't appreciate it - she does - but she also has to bite her tongue to keep from telling her it's okay, she doesn't mind, she can manage. That feels a lot worse than apologizing does, somehow.]
Sure. I - feel like I should warn you, though, Maurtia Falls isn't....[She trails off, clearly trying to find the right way to word it.]
Did you grow up in a city? It looks like a really sleepy....northeast city, I guess, but they have a lot of the worst parts of cities kind of under the surface.
[She doesn't sound like it's a particular concern: it hasn't bothered her any, because she hasn't bothered it. It just seems like the kind of thing she should warn someone about.]
[ Derek's head tilts and an eyebrow lifts with question as her voice trails off. She looks like she's trying to figure out how to finish the thought, so he waits so she can formulate it. ]
I lived in Brooklyn for a while. I grew up in a small town plagued by supernatural phenomenon. But, what kind of worst parts are we talking?
[ Not that it's going to change his mind, but he's curious. ]
[She exhales a breath that might be a laugh, with a little more effort.]
Probably nothing you'd be bothered by, then. Just like, gambling, and drugs. That sort of thing. [Men and women on corners after a certain hour, but her tongue is much too clumsy to point that business out.] I think the policy are paid to look the other way. It's not a big deal, just - I don't know, if it'll bother you, I thought a warning might help.
Probably not if that's all. Thanks for the warning, though.
[ He gives her a warm smile and shrugs. He's seen a lot of shit. Some drug or gambling addicts aren't going to bother him much. Very little bothers him anymore. ]
It kind of takes a lot to bother me these days. But if it bothers you, we can keep doing it here?
And kitsune, nogitsune, kanima, hell hounds, Berserkers, Oni, Druids, dark Druids, God only knows how many other were-creatures including coyotes and, apparently, jaguars...
[ He gives her sort of a lopsided grin. ]
I'm learning about new things all the time. We live in a town called Beacon Hills, so-called because it's a beacon to the Supernatural.
[She doesn't know what half, maybe more than half those things are, and just stares at him for a moment. That's a hell of a place to live, that even the town name was given because of that. When she laughs, it almost surprises her, too.]
Yikes?
[What else is there to say? That sounds like a big, big yikes to her, especially if he's supposed to be protecting people from all those things.]
[ A flare of satisfaction washes over Derek and it takes him a second to realize that it's because he unintentionally managed to make her laugh and it's the first time he's really seeing her smile significantly. It's pretty. She's pretty when she doesn't look miserable, actually. ]
Yeah, yikes. Kind of a nightmare. You can see why I kept leaving and, yet, kept getting drawn to go back home. I literally left town on four occasions, right before coming here being the fourth, and I swear to God if this place sends me back to Beacon Hills instead of Brazil, I'm gonna be pissed.
[ He laughs a little and rolls his eyes at himself as he shakes his head. ]
So fucked up. Hi Vanya, nice to meet you, here's half of my ridiculous baggage; enjoy.
[The smile stays a little longer, welcomed by making light of the fucked up situation he comes from. It's not something she often - if ever - feels she has permission to do, and while it's on the table, for however long that may be, it feels only right to indulge a little.]
Maybe the Porter is stronger than your werewolf beacon.
[She's not entirely sure if that's a good thing; here is where the smile starts to shrink again.]
It's not like I haven't given you half my baggage already. Seems only fair?
[ Derek's eyebrows cock and he shrugs. He's sort of banking on it, honestly. ]
God, I hope so. I actually don't have any desire to go back home. I'm holding onto this place for dear life. I just...
[ He sighs a little, looking mostly resigned and hopefully unaffected, even though he isn't. ]
I just need a chance to be some semblance of myself. This is the first time I've felt like I can be. Being here, I mean.
[ Giving her a small smile, Derek leans forward, lowering his voice as if telling her a secret. ]
Your baggage is what makes me want to hang out with you. It means maybe I'm not just a trash fire of a person and maybe "normal" doesn't actually exist and it's just this shitty social construct some asshole decided to create to make the people around him feel inferior and we all just...bought it and feel bad about ourselves because of it. We all have baggage. I'm not the only one. So, honestly? I appreciate you sharing some of your baggage. It...feels like solidarity? I think that's the word I want.
[He leans forward and she finds herself unsure of how to respond - she wants to lean in, but the palm-sweating paranoia tells her to lean back. Instead she stays where she is, listening. Vanya's not usually one to interrupt.
That word again - normal. She wonders if it's ever going to have a clear definition in her head, or if she'll ever hear or say it without tasting bitterness. What helps is that he's not trying to push it at her as a marker: he may not feel just the same as she does, but at least he has some sense of it. Vanya feels the smile start to come back.]
[She's still only picked a little at her bread, cake, whatever, but she doesn't look particularly sorry about it. It's a little like she's getting used to food again; things taste different now, and she wonders, not for the first time, if she has Dad's medication to thank for that.
Background musings aside, though, she sounds honest enough: it's hard for most people to tell the difference between her enthusiasm and her uncertainty, but he can probably suss it out more easily. She likes the idea of him texting her.]
Yeah, sure. I hope work's...good? [Lord she is bad at this.]
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Vanya lets him talk, listening instead of commenting. That's her standard, really: even when she's part of a dialogue, she feels like she may not really be welcome in it. He hasn't made her feel that way, but most people don't; that doesn't stop Vanya from feeling it.]
...Yeah. Yeah, it is. I - when I was a kid, I was the normal one. I mean, I was the ordinary one till a few days before I was brought here, but-- [Neither here nor there. She shrugs a little, back to just slowly destroying her cake.] But it always felt like I was in the way of something more important. And that just started to be...normal, I guess.
[Would she ever have stopped, if Leonard hadn't put it in her head? Would she ever have tried to take that back for herself, or would it have taken someone else to make her realize how much she apologizes? Vanya wishes she had that answer, because her faith in herself is at an all time low.]
I'm trying, though.
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So he doesn't really know how to react to her saying that she was the "ordinary" one and that she'd felt like she'd been in the way of something more important.
Derek's experienced a lot of loss and a lot of pain, but he at least always knew that his mother and sisters had loved him and that he mattered as much to them as they meant to one another; he was never superfluous just because his eyes were blue instead of gold or he was a boy instead of a girl. He can't imagine not knowing that he belonged.
So instead, he nods and he gives her a sympathetic smile. He wishes it were empathy but he can't empathize with a feeling that's completely foreign. Feeling less than growing up is entirely different than self-isolation as an adult. ]
Well, making friends with people is a good start to normal, right? So I guess you're kind of stuck with me.
[ To that, he offers her a lopsided grin and then finishes off the last of his sandwich, washing it down with a long pull from the straw in his iced tea. ]
How fucked up are we that our 'getting to know you' conversations are about the worst parts of ourselves? We are bleak.
[ And...in spite of the truth behind that comment, Derek huffs a little laugh, rolling his eyes at himself. ]
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(One day, maybe, she will realize that she is much easier on near-strangers than she is on her own family, but that day is not likely to be in the near future.)
Vanya smiles in response; it's small, still a little unsure. But that's a reflection of herself, of the doubt that exists in every social interaction she enters, and less of the small ways his actions and words overlap with Leonard's.
(Okay. They don't feel that small. They feel very big, and they're going to start a fight in her head. But she can save that for later.)]
Extremely fucked up.
[She wonders how he does that so easily, laughing at himself like it costs nothing.]
But I guess we were kidnapped by some possessed AI, so it seems kinda fitting?
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Someone really fucked her up. Someone really, really did a number on Vanya and he feels a flare of anger that falls away as quickly as it cropped up because she clearly cares about people. She cares about whether or not she hurts them. She cares about whether or not they're afraid of her or whether or not they should be. She's made that pretty transparent to him, whether she meant to or not. There's nothing about her that suggests to him that she deserves to feel all of the negative feelings he scents in the air, tainting the smell of coffee and food.
Why do the good ones always end up feeling the most pain?
Paige flashes into his mind again, begging for him to make her pain stop. The top half of Laura's body in the woods behind their old house. Imagined expressions on his cousins' faces, chained to the wall as the house went up in flames because they were too small to control their blood lust but too large to be contained by their parents. Watching the light leave Boyd's eyes inches from Derek's.
Derek was good once. He was arrogant, but he was good. After everything he's been through, sometimes he wonders if he's still that guy or if "that guy" grew up and any semblance of him died in the fire he survived. Maybe that's why he gives so much more weight to everyone else's pain and his own just...is what it is.
But Derek can act, too. So he shugs and smiles a little. ]
Who needs normal when you can be kidnapped, thrown into a new universe where you're an involuntary celebrity, and the government wants you to register yourself as a hero but doesn't want to tell you what you're supposed to be acting as a hero against. Here's to fucked up.
[ He lifts his plastic cup a little as if in toast and rolls his eyes playfully. ]
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Yeah. Who needs normal?
[There's a strange sort of relief to saying that, and Vanya is not entirely sure of the feeling. She's not ordinary, she never was, and the fact that she couldn't fit in anywhere - at home, or school when Dad sent her away - wasn't her fault.
Not entirely, at least.]
I guess you've been to Nonah, then? [She wound up there on her first day, and almost made a morning into a very bad day for a few excitable residents. She wonders if the street lights have been replaced yet: they were way too twisted up to work by the time Allison and Diego found her.]
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No, that's just what I've heard. I'm personally planning to avoid fans like the plague if I have them. I don't know why I would, but to each their own, I guess. I haven't come across a reason to go to Nonah, yet, so it's kind of at the bottom of my list.
[ His eyebrows lift, though, because... ]
Sounds like you're asking from experience? Is it really that bad?
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I wound up there my first day. A whole bunch of people mobbed me and it just...almost went bad.
I try to avoid it, now.
[For at least six other reasons. Well. Maybe five and a half.]
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[ He looks sympathetic to that because he doesn't think he'd take that sort of thing very well, either, but the whole reason they're here is the discussion around the fact that her whole thing is that her emotions control her powers more than she does and he can only imagine that being mobbed like that would cause a pretty emotional reaction. ]
Shit. I would, too. I mean, I'm mostly going to, anyway, but I really would if I'd gotten mobbed when I first got here.
[ This shift in the conversation makes him want to bring up her abilities again to see if she's decided she doesn't want his help or whether she's just not ready to start. He worries that bringing it up will be pushy and awkward, but a part of him wants so badly to be able to help somebody, like maybe if he can, it'll help assuage his guilt for the gigantic failure he'd been for Isaac, Erica, and Boyd. ]
I'm glad you came out, you know. Here, I mean. It's nice to meet you in person. I'm not really big on the whole online thing. It's a good start, but I always prefer in person.
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[It's out before she can stop it. That's another thing she almost-misses about her meds: they made her tongue slow, so she could, at least sometimes, stop those stupid little expressions of disbelief. Vanya ducks her head, and though her face says she wants to apologize, she bites her tongue for a moment instead.]
I mean, I'm - I'm glad I did, too. I'm just not usually very good at this kind of thing. I'm not better online, [She actually thinks she might be worse,] but. Thanks, for, um. Asking.
[Maybe it's because he's nice. Because he says things that mean he's glad for her presence and because even though her first instinct is to doubt she also kind of believes him - maybe it's that.]
Um--
[But it's also because he makes her think of Leonard in the worst ways, the ways that take her head right back to his house, to the journal, to every knife in the kitchen impaling his chest--
She looks down at her coffee again, sips at it to find her voice again.]
I don't want - I don't want you to think that I don't want to figure out how to control my powers. I'm just--
[Extremely fucked up over the fact that her first real boyfriend directly manipulated her into trying to kill her siblings. She still can't remember a lot of what happened after that night in the cabin - how they left, how she wound up at Leonard's house. It's like she was in a fugue for most of it, already mourning.]
I just don't know if I'm ready. Yet.
[Yet, because she'd like to be, some day. And she can't quite bring herself to say it, but she doesn't hate the idea of trying to learn with him.]
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Yeah, really. I'm not...great at this, either. I haven't made a friend for the sake of making a friend since high school, if that gives you any idea. So, you're not alone in that, at least.
[ He watches her as she struggles to find the words for whatever it is she wants to say next, patient and silent to let her get through it. Empathy crosses his expression and he gives a subtle wave of one hand to dismiss the explanation. ]
Vanya? It's none of my business. When or if you want to work on it, with or without me, that's all you. No explanation needed, seriously. But just...you know. If you want me to try to help, I want to try to help. Just let me know when, if that's the case. If it never is, that's fine. We can still do this, you know?
[ He gestures toward her coffee. ]
If you want.
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No one offered this at school, or college, or out in the world. No one until Leonard, and that is why however badly she wants to crow and be excited and just enjoy that there's finally someone else in her life that just wants to be her friend, she can't ignore the ugly twist in her stomach that stretches all the way up her throat. She actually feels nauseous for a moment, but the moment passes and she exhales slowly.
He's not Leonard. He doesn't have an ulterior motive, and if she does--
Then she'll break her heart again and add one more name to the list of people she's killed, probably. It's hard to acknowledge that, to see that this might hurt, and go for it anyway. But when she nods, she smiles, and it may be tentative, but it's still real.]
I do. I mean - it's better than grabbing coffee alone, right?
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But then she smiles and nods and Derek returns the smile. If she's willing to give him a chance, he's willing to give her a chance and they can both learn together that not everyone is out to get them. ]
Good, I'm glad. And yeah, it's definitely better than getting coffee alone. I meant it when I said I'd come to you next time. We can take turns. That way, neither of us is going out of their way a hundred percent of the time.
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Sure. I - feel like I should warn you, though, Maurtia Falls isn't....[She trails off, clearly trying to find the right way to word it.]
Did you grow up in a city? It looks like a really sleepy....northeast city, I guess, but they have a lot of the worst parts of cities kind of under the surface.
[She doesn't sound like it's a particular concern: it hasn't bothered her any, because she hasn't bothered it. It just seems like the kind of thing she should warn someone about.]
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I lived in Brooklyn for a while. I grew up in a small town plagued by supernatural phenomenon. But, what kind of worst parts are we talking?
[ Not that it's going to change his mind, but he's curious. ]
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Probably nothing you'd be bothered by, then. Just like, gambling, and drugs. That sort of thing. [Men and women on corners after a certain hour, but her tongue is much too clumsy to point that business out.] I think the policy are paid to look the other way. It's not a big deal, just - I don't know, if it'll bother you, I thought a warning might help.
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[ He gives her a warm smile and shrugs. He's seen a lot of shit. Some drug or gambling addicts aren't going to bother him much. Very little bothers him anymore. ]
It kind of takes a lot to bother me these days. But if it bothers you, we can keep doing it here?
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You said supernatural phenomena - does that mean just, werewolves? And banshees?
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[ Derek's eyes widen as he shrugs a little. ]
And kitsune, nogitsune, kanima, hell hounds, Berserkers, Oni, Druids, dark Druids, God only knows how many other were-creatures including coyotes and, apparently, jaguars...
[ He gives her sort of a lopsided grin. ]
I'm learning about new things all the time. We live in a town called Beacon Hills, so-called because it's a beacon to the Supernatural.
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Yikes?
[What else is there to say? That sounds like a big, big yikes to her, especially if he's supposed to be protecting people from all those things.]
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Yeah, yikes. Kind of a nightmare. You can see why I kept leaving and, yet, kept getting drawn to go back home. I literally left town on four occasions, right before coming here being the fourth, and I swear to God if this place sends me back to Beacon Hills instead of Brazil, I'm gonna be pissed.
[ He laughs a little and rolls his eyes at himself as he shakes his head. ]
So fucked up. Hi Vanya, nice to meet you, here's half of my ridiculous baggage; enjoy.
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Maybe the Porter is stronger than your werewolf beacon.
[She's not entirely sure if that's a good thing; here is where the smile starts to shrink again.]
It's not like I haven't given you half my baggage already. Seems only fair?
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God, I hope so. I actually don't have any desire to go back home. I'm holding onto this place for dear life. I just...
[ He sighs a little, looking mostly resigned and hopefully unaffected, even though he isn't. ]
I just need a chance to be some semblance of myself. This is the first time I've felt like I can be. Being here, I mean.
[ Giving her a small smile, Derek leans forward, lowering his voice as if telling her a secret. ]
Your baggage is what makes me want to hang out with you. It means maybe I'm not just a trash fire of a person and maybe "normal" doesn't actually exist and it's just this shitty social construct some asshole decided to create to make the people around him feel inferior and we all just...bought it and feel bad about ourselves because of it. We all have baggage. I'm not the only one. So, honestly? I appreciate you sharing some of your baggage. It...feels like solidarity? I think that's the word I want.
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That word again - normal. She wonders if it's ever going to have a clear definition in her head, or if she'll ever hear or say it without tasting bitterness. What helps is that he's not trying to push it at her as a marker: he may not feel just the same as she does, but at least he has some sense of it. Vanya feels the smile start to come back.]
I could use a little solidarity, these days.
[These days, this life. You know.]
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Yeah, you and me both.
[ He finishes his tea and stretches his arms over his head. ]
I should probably get going soon. I gotta go to work later. We should do this again soon, though. Can I text you?
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[She's still only picked a little at her bread, cake, whatever, but she doesn't look particularly sorry about it. It's a little like she's getting used to food again; things taste different now, and she wonders, not for the first time, if she has Dad's medication to thank for that.
Background musings aside, though, she sounds honest enough: it's hard for most people to tell the difference between her enthusiasm and her uncertainty, but he can probably suss it out more easily. She likes the idea of him texting her.]
Yeah, sure. I hope work's...good? [Lord she is bad at this.]
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