revivalproject | [Calibrations] Calibrations Still Hurt

Entry tags:

[Calibrations] Calibrations Still Hurt

WHO: Tommy Sheperd, OTA
WHERE: Tommy’s Calibration Room
WHAT: Calibrations
WHEN: June 10th to July 10th
WARNINGS: CW: Tommy’s Calibrations room potentially contains depictions of child abuse, bullying, and medical experimentation, and dogs used to threaten/harass a child. It depends on what you touch (each will have warnings in strike-through attached).

Arriving in this room means a literal arrival. A door opens, the one to Tommy's room here in Temba. No sooner does one step through the door than it closes behind the arrival, leaving them alone with a Tommy Shepherd who is lounging on a couch against the wall of a very messy room. Honestly, it pretty much relates to his own room at Temba's 'Young Avengers HQ'. At least there's an open window in the room to let in fresh air. The view is weird though as it's of the Las Vegas Strip at night, from a literally impossible angle. It's almost as if the window looks out into the middle of the road itself.

"Hey, welcome," Tommy says, kicking his feet over the arm of the couch. "Just give me a second."

He is flipping through a book, clearly reading. His fingers move quickly, until he seems to get to a good stopping point. Then he stuffs a bookmark in and sits up.

"Forgive the mess. Been busy lately."

And yeah, it's a mess. Not too hard to trip over a pair of goggles with orange lenses in the middle of what should be a walkway to the bed or the bathroom beyond it. Strangely enough even stepping on it owuldn't break them. It probably goes with the silver and green super hero costume slung over a low table stacked with books. Also on that table is a framed photograph of a house ~~Baby Hands Reference~~.

The rest of the room is filled with scattered clothes, including a worn brown leather belt ~~cw: physical child abuse~~ too big for someone Tommy's size sticking out from under the couch. At least most of it seems to be Tommy's own clothes, but some of it includes shirts that are too small for him, or too big and far too yellow. Yellow definitely isn't as much his color so that's an interesting thing going on. Also on top of a pile of socks happens to be a mass of black and gold fabric that will prove to be a mask. Weird place for it, but okay.

Tucked under the pillow of the bed in the room is a strange metal collar ~~cw: medical experimentation and dogs~~. It's mostly hidden under the pillow, almost as if to say 'out of sight, out of mind', and yet the placement might well mean it was on Tommy's mind any time he slept. Or maybe that's just reading into things. So maybe don't read into it so much and instead choose to focus on the old CRTV with built in VHS Player in the corner of the room. Is that some old western movie running right now? WHat's up with that?

[OOC: The secret to getting out of Tommy's room before the 'time limit' is to see the mess and volunteer to help clean up while talking to Tommy. Seeing a minimum of one memory can also cause the door to open and allow people to leave at any point. Also if you want a possible different memory or something specific, message me and we can talk.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Wesker may be unfamiliar with Tommy's living situation in Temba, but he recognizes a mess when he sees one.

And he recognizes Tommy despite the young man apparently not paying much attention.

Now isn't this just perfect.

Wesker scoffs audibly and simply steps into the room, immediately starting to scan it for the potentially most incriminating items. He even graces Tommy with a brief, clearly dismissive wave of his hand as if to encourage him to keep reading.

"Don't mind me. I will find my way around."

Congratulations, there is literally just one person that Tommy wants nowhere near his memories. And that one is apparently the one who shows up. He's immediately on his feet and standing in front of Wesker, a blocking hand on his chest.

This is his dreams, and here he's the one with all of the powers. He's quicker than a thought, just there faster than he could be in real life. And fuck if he doesn't look angry.

"This is not for you."

Now this is actual speed. Wesker would be impressed if he weren't still annoyed by Tommy's attitude.

"Mind your manners, boy." He replies, calmly reaching with one hand to close it around Tommy's wrist, pointedly unhuried.

Hidden behind his dark glasses, Wesker has already caught sight of the oddly placed worn belt. An item that sticks out in making and style in a similar way to how it sticks out from under the couch. He raises a knowing brow over the rim of his glasses. "You were taught manners, weren't you?"

"I don't owe you anything, much less manners," Tommy points out and he draws his hand away. It's almost like it moves through Wesker's hand actually. Which almost makes sense. This is a dream, and in a dream he's far more connected to his family. In his dreams he gets to have more connections to the Vision, and it was just par for the course for Vision to change his density to the point of intangibility.

"When you earn them you get them. And you're disrespectful enough to have not earned them."

"Then don't expect me to play by your rules." Wesker comments, but with Tommy's hand gone, he takes the opportunity to around Tommy, back to scanning over the mess.

"I was made to understand that this is a learning experience. And today we learn about you. How devastating can a few trips down memory lane possibly be?"

"It's a fucking invasive experience is what it is," Tommy hisses. "Or what, you comfortable with me going through your shit?"

Hypocrite, that's what Wesker was.

That brings a cruel smirk to Wesker's face and he challenges: "Are we in my dream, or yours?"

It's an obvious answer and he answers it by finally picking up one of the more obvious items: The belt.

They were in Tommy's. And he moves to try and stop Wesker. That he doesn't manage it probably means something. Who knows what that is, because there's not time to debate that. Instead there's just Wesker standing on a porch, one that looks not as well kept up as it should be. Above the clouds rumble ominously, promising rain, something that's clearly worrying to the teen on the porch. A teen that looks too lean to be healthy, carrying a clearly worn backpack, with black hair and Tommy's unmistakably green eyes. The teen is anxiously worrying his lip with his teeth and looking around.

His eyes fall on the one chair on the porch, which is situated under a place where there is clear water stains on the roof. Rain coming and a chair placed somewhere there is clearly leaking from above. Clearly the answer would be to move the chair, right? But the kid is hesitating. In fact, as he looks at it the kid's fingers come up to rub at a bruise on his arm. There is clearly very serious thought going on here, calculations.

The sky rumbles again, louder this time and in time with a grumbling complaint of hunger from the boy's stomach that makes it clear he's far too hungry. Then the rain starts, falling all at once in the sorts of angry sheets that come with a heavy storm. The kid steps further from the stairs and he starts biting his lip again. At last resolve is found, and he moves to the old folding chair, hauling it away from the dripping spot just as the leak starts up. Once it's settled somewhere dry the teen sits down, putting his backpack at his feet. The Captain America backpack is too small for someone probably in high school, and definitely far too beat up. It hasn't been replaced in years, anyone can conclude that. For now the kid pulls out homework, settles it in his lap, and sighs. His eyes flicker toward a nearby house with curtained windows, as if expecting to be watched.

"If I had a key, maybe you wouldn't have to have little old witches watching me and complaining about how you have to talk to her," the teen grumbles, but no one is around to hear him.

A pencil comes out and the boy starts into his math problems. It's clear from a glance that he understands it, he gets the answers no problem. The only thing that stops him is the sound of a vehicle passing down the street in the rain. The boy's head rises to see what's going on, clearly not expecting much. But his eyes widen at the beaten and worn gray pick up truck. The boy starts moving immediately as the truck slows as it approaches the driveway. Papers get stuffed into his bag and it's zipped as the truck turns into the drive way. He's racing something, and clearly he doesn't have enough time because he's just a normal kid.

Once he's on his feet he's got the bag over his should and he's pushing the chair back into position as the door of the truck opens. Tommy's cursing under his breath and the truck door slams followed by booted feet approaches. Just as those boots hit the stairs the chair is perfectly back in place and the boy is standing to catch his breath. Tommy turns back to face the tall man with his beer belly and his hard eyes. The man looks over the boy and the porch and his expression goes dark, dark enough that the boy's eyes fall to his feet and he shifts from foot to foot anxiously.

"Inside. Now."

The words are harsh and the boy flinches. His hand tightens around his bookbag strap. Once the door is unlocked the man stands aside and the teen heads in. There's a sense of resignation as the man follows him in. There's just enough time for the teen to put the bookbag aside and then the man's hand settles on the boy's shoulder, leaning in to weigh him down.

The man's mouth opens to shout and that's when something weird happens. Time seems to slow, in that way that people that move with inhuman speed might grow used to. The shouting is distorted and slurred, but the content is still there. Ranting about a stupid, ungrateful kid, about how the man put the chair where he did for a reason, about how the kid knew not to move it. From there it goes into the 'helped bring you into this world' and 'you should be grateful' and 'no son of mine should be so disobedient'. The boy seems more confused with the change in the place than ready to cringe away from the words, but it seems a narrow thing.

The man's hand lifts, fingers curling into a full on fist. Experience probably explains why the boy goes still and breathes out so he can't be winded. The punch lands in his gut anyway and the teen stumbles back, moaning in pain. Of course the man doesn't stop there. Another fist flies, but this time the boy reacts differently. Time seems even slower now and the boy watches with wide eyes. He sways to the side and the fist swings past. The boy looks confused, and the man's eyes widen.

The proper flow of time slams back into place with a new peal of thunder, and two more blows are rained down on the boy. He stumbles back another step and shakes his head as if to clear it. He looks confused, lost, worried. And he moves. One moment he's shifting to dodge out of the range of his father's fists and then things blur and everything is different.

The boy is still there. He's still dressed the same way, still standing as if he's hurting, and his hair is snow white. He's soaked from the thunderstorm, panting and braced against a fence. His stomach freaks out and he doubles over to lose his lunch. His clothes are already soaked through so that's got to be miserable as well.

There's a tree nearby, leaves thick and strong? A few stumbling steps and then the kid is falling under it, sheltering as best he could. Is being under a tree the best idea? No, but he seems resolved to it anyway. He puts his back against the tree, pulling his knees up against his chest. His fingers reach up and card through his hair and freezes. He pulls a lock of it down and looks at it.

"Oh. Oh Hell."

And the boy starts to cry.

Then they're back in the room and Tommy's snarling as he punches at Wesker's face. It's poorly thrown, the kid clearly has no idea how to throw a proper punch.

Tommy's punch connects with Wesker's hand rather than his face as he catches Tommy's fist with an ease that is more to credit towards Tommy's inexperience in this particular case at least. Of course Wesker has noticed the difference between Tommy's abilities before the memory replay and now and it puts a smirk onto the older man's face as he considers Tommy and the anger he is directing at Wesker.

"Pathetic." He comments, yet doesn't make it clear if he is referring to Tommy right now or his younger self.

No. NO. How dare this man have seen something that no one had a right to? All these years and he didn't want this to happen. No one deserved to see that, to see how bad it had been, or why he got so angry.

"Fuck you," he hisses out. Once more he slips from Wesker's grip and he swings again. "Fuck YOU! You had no right!"

This time Wesker dodges the punch but the smirk remains. "No right, you say? Funny." It wouldn't be the first right he simply claimed.

He pointedly steps away from Tommy, yet keeps his eyes on the younger man while simultaneously looking for further suspicious items. "Shall we see what else we can learn today?"

"No," Tommy insists again, moving to interpose himself between Wesker and the room. "No, you're just... You're going to get out of here, you sick fuck."

He gestures to the door behind Wesker, that is open again. The dude can just leave. Just fucking leave.

"And waste this unique opportunity of getting to know one each other? Please." Wesker mocks, not leaving any indication that he is inclined to leave.

"I'm surprised your brother wasn't in this one. No happy childhood memories together?"

Get to know each other? Dammit if he could he'd blow this But he glares at that comment. Because in this space he can't help but explain.

"We're not from the same family," he says with a sigh. "Reincarnation can fuck shit up a lot."

Reincarnation. Curious and hardly scientific, but given that Wesker has witnessed Billy's magic first hand, encountered other magic users as well as what he can only compare to cartoon animals, he can't really bring himself to be surprised anymore. What is more surprising is how forthcoming Tommy happens to be regarding his inquiry. Has that to do with this place? With whatever is going on? Are they not only compelled to share memories but further information as well?

Then maybe it is for the best that Wesker has made it his priority to remove any intruders from his personal space as swiftly as possible.

He doesn't let these contemplations show on his face, though. Instead he regards Tommy for an additional moment before voicing his conclusion. "So you died as brothers and were sent to different foster homes in your next life. And you got the short end of the stick. How unfortunate." He laments while putting more distance between himself and the open door. "But how do you even know you were meant to be siblings?"

Yeah, don't be surprised until the devil and the synthezoid figure into it.

"Not exactly. We were born as twins. Then we got sorta killed by having our souls stolen by this dude, and then Mephistopheles stole them back, which killed him for a bit, and we were retro-reincarnated into different families. Thus the different last names. But the Kaplans are really Billy's family."

Tommy will claim no such thing of the Shepherds. And he's seething over Wesker calling it the 'short end of the stick'.

"And we know because first, literally we're identical, or were, before my hair changed, except for eye color. Which studies have shown can happen with identical twins because exact pigmentation of eyes can be variable after birth so fuck you. And our original mom actually recognized us, and her magic recognizes us, and frankly, given who Billy is, we can only be her children reborn. Not to mention the dude who stole our souls that first time and melded with them and thus knows them just about as good as Mom does recognized us at first glance. And shit that affects the family line magically, which is a frustrating enough thing to not be uncommon, affect us. And we still look a stupid amount like both our mom and our Uncle Pietro, and our powers echo theirs too. Plus shape-shifting aliens who are really good at this shit also recognized us for who we are."

There is absolutely too much proof that Billy Kaplan and Tommy Shepherd were once Billy and Tommy Maximoff. The fact that the Maximoff children were born, lived, and died during the lifetime of Billy Kaplan and Tommy Shepherd does not even remotely figure in to the beginnings of the weird shit.

That said he is also moving to try and herd Wesker to the door.

"And it's not your business anyway."

Wesker will simply file all that away as odd for the time being. He is still scanning the mess as he steps through it, satisfied with listening.

"A magical family. And yet you lack any magic of your own." He muses as he stops in front of the goggles. Oddly colored and almost comically in the way rather than part of the more natural mess. Too obvious.

He crouches down and reaches to pick them up.

Nope. Hands on the chest now to try and push the guy back from that. He doesn't need to touch a single damn thing. Fuck that shit.

"Pietro's also fast. And our father isn't magic at all, he's technology. My aunt is magnetokinetic. Not being magic just means I am fucking sane," he answers. "And don't touch those. I don't need you grubby ass hands leaving marks that I have to see when I'm running."

With a single brow raised again at the defiance, Wesker raises his attention up to look at Tommy himself. He doesn't try to force reaching the currently prohibited item.

"So you're calling your brother insane?"

Edited 2023-06-11 17:08 (UTC)

"He does defend your fucked up ass," Tommy points out. Which is so fucking bullshit. Look at this piece of work coming in here and violating his privacy and being a massive dick about it. "And I'm his brother. We're allowed to call each other names."

"He is the more reasonable one of you two." Wesker notes but raises back up from his crouch only to step around Tommy and take a seat on the nearby bed, crossing one leg over the other casually.

"I have never heard him call you any names. Are you sure this is a sibling thing and not an issue with your own attitude? Are you jealous of your brother because he is better than you?"

No, Billy isn't. He's literally almost destroyed the universe before. Just because Wesker doesn't know that Billy's fucked up too doesn't mean he isn't. But for now Tommy's snatching up the goggles and putting them around his neck. See, safe. As if Wesker can't just grab them.

"You aren't around us enough to be able to say that and be correct," Tommy counters. He's literally been called a psychopath by his brother for agreeing with him once. It was bullshit.

"And he's not better than me. He's just different. It's okay to be different."

He could of course simply grab the goggles still, but he doesn't. At least not right away.

"Different is an excuse used by the weak to justify their meaningless existence. What even are you compared to your brother? A child with a temper that believes himself to be fast. With such an overblown background, I would have expected more."

Seriously? Tommy rolls his eyes because that's the only way to take the idea of 'believes himself to be fast'.

"I can literally outrun sound and you say 'believes himself to be fast'. And I can literally manipulate the speed of molecules around me, which is not nothing. So fuck the hell off."

He's young yet, and many speedsters don't come into the full breadth of their powers until later in life. And it wasn't exactly like a speedster like him was really ready to fathom the fact that he was powerful on his brother's level. Too much of his life had been spent with people like Wesker demeaning him for Tommy to truly see what he could be. He hadn't known another speedster beyond his uncle until the last few months back home.

"And what are you? Someone who thinks he's fast and definitely thinks he's better than people around him just because he's old. Yeah, that's all that impressive."

There's only one thing Wesker can do in response to that one: Laugh. It's a low, dark chuckle devoid of any humor.

"Cute. But oh, are you wrong. Maybe one day you will figure it out, little mutt." And it's with these words that Wesker pulls the collar out from its hiding space to give it a teasing little twirl around his finger.

[Calibrations] Calibrations Still Hurt

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

CW: Child Abuse

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

CW: Medical experimentation, dogs used for violence against a child

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)