"The Golden Doors Were Bought With Mutant Healthcare" (Larraine + Blaine)

Blaine Sinclaire

She contemplated, attentively listening to her intuition. This was considered to be a 'new beginning' of sorts, despite processing the undeniable truth that her powers could be halted in the process. However, in this case, she wouldn't mind that happening due to the burden that her abilities had became. That's why her unexpected arrival to the facility had occurred.

“Great,” Larraine groaned in a stereotypical tone. She pulled her hood up, passing the bystanders. They shouldn’t interest her in the slightest. She honestly couldn’t even begin to comprehend proposing a discussion with the individuals. Her irritation was both caused by the physical pain she happened to be enduring and her desperation. Regardless of this, she entered throughout The Sanctuary, aiming to require assistance or an individual to monitor her.

She could feel it bubbling within her; trepidation. Her entire bodily system was fatigued as she furthered her movement, searching around her surroundings and perhaps towards the light at the end of the tunnel; emotionally. Her physical attributes appeared to be a blank slate, unnoticeable. However, her pain would be noticeable to the common eye, as the sores that were inflicted across her body weren't oblivious to anyone who didn't have a medical degree.

Her body began releasing toxins, projecting an aura, inducing severe delirium and discomfort to any individuals that came in close contact with her. She leisurely roamed towards a chair, and then proceeded to sit down. She remains calm, but distinctly tormented beyond belief. Her eyes gleamed with despair, awaiting for assistance. It was indifferent for the female to accept aid. She would however understand the prolonged health risks that could occur, and she simply wasn’t willing to deal with the consequences because another person passed onto her the illnesses she is currently suffering from.

During this specific brooding session, Larraine couldn’t help but admire her surroundings. It definitely was an established building; definitely the classiest homeless shelter that she had waddled into, that’s for sure. The golden doors specifically glistened a prosperous attitude. It was humbling to realize that mutant healthcare was being spent an object so riveting to the eye. Realization of the luxurious building snapped her back into reality, immaturely blurting out words for somebody to pay attention to her depleted-self.

“Can someone help me out already, please?” Larraine began dislocating from her surroundings; reflecting, specifically aiming to focus on positive thoughts as her entire body churned. “Happy thoughts,” she lectured herself in a hushed tone, then beginning to smile as a particular memory lodged itself in between more so in-depth memories. Shortly afterwards, an audible voice tried conversing with her, as her eyes opened to goggle to the individual. “Not to scare you or anything but I would stand back if I were you. My powers are.. projecting.” Her words were straight-to-the-point and simplified as she wouldn’t want to discuss her abilities in detail, nor would she want to have another discussion about herself only for the individual to not truly empathize with her.

Blaine was still somewhat getting the hang of things at Sanctuary. Though considering he was going to be a father, learning to deal with the younger crowd seemed like a good idea to him, anyway. He found he was able to help some of them, give them someone to talk to, that sort of thing. But he couldn't really...connect with just anyone. And the generation gap didn't seem to help in the slightest. But the former fighter was trying.

Today, he noticed a new face stumbling in. She seemed...off. He'd seen all sorts of powers in his day, and he understood that some of them, for lack of a better term, sucked. He was already on his way to her when he heard her distress, but once he was in front of her, she'd given him a warning, so out of respect, he stepped back.

"It's hard to scare me, but I'll take your word for it," he said, wearing a dark green muscle shirt under his unzipped leather jacket, a pair of black, faded jeans, and his usual pair of black boots. his long hair hung down by his shoulders as always. "My name's Blaine, and I can't feel," he said, his tone somewhat gentle, though still gruff. "What is it that's going on, exactly? Anything you need me to do? Or is this just one of those 'wait it out' kind of things?"

He sort of squatted where he was, looking her in the eyes as he thought, his gears already turning. She looked to be about Skye's age, and also had a thing for having her hood up. He thought he caught a little attitude, too, but that could have just been related to what was going on. Even still, she needed someone. He kind of hoped he could be that someone, but only time would tell.

Her perception peered towards the supposed jumper jack. His appearance however, was to the least of her importance given the circumstance. She scanned his lips, reading his words, or at least was attempting to offer the man the benefit of the doubt. From most perspectives, it would be noticeable that Larraine was dressed unusually for a woman her age. The peculiar outfit was tied together with a worn-out hoodie that was an attempt to rogue her identity.

“This isn’t the weirdest confessional I have partaken in before,” Larraine implied addiction issues hidden behind try-hard comical words. Him explaining his abilities caught her attention. All together, his ability may be the answer to her prayers; meaning during this specific interaction, Larraine tried to spring out charismatic energy, instead of tormenting the poor sap with her negative energy.

“I absorb diseases from other people, heal them and then have to deal with the aftermath myself. Basically, I’m an indigo child, except I’m not in touch with my feelings whatsoever and it’s more so physical.” Her droll words escaped her lips, a deadpan expression across her face as she leaned against her hand, her elbow resting into the arm of the chair. “I’m not that much of an indigo child, I’ll admit.” Despite her concealing her agony, her facial expression showered with thoughts - and a brittle smile.

Consequently, his eye contact caused her to turn her head in the other direction. The girl’s facial expressions lit up with a depressive frustration, answering the question that he had asked prior. “My body can basically heal against most diseases.” Larraine huffed out her words. “We’re not entirely different in terms of abilities. But I can still feel the pain, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.. I guess.” She eyed the male, appreciative of his gentle demeanor. Her growth to trust individuals had skyrocketed, however, random acts of kindness could be as deceiving as the next.

“Larraine,” a reply slithered from her afterwards, wanting to be polite. Despite her answering him, it would be clear that she was distant from the conversation, staring in the other direction. As her mind isolated, the less than unpleasant aura continuously spread; causing individuals around them to begin to experience symptoms. She was known to be the most common root of the issue, ‘the problem’, producing pain to others wouldn’t affect the younger female as much as it once had beforehand - at least not mentally, or so she would assume.

“Maybe it’s best that I stay on the streets - I don’t know if this was the best idea,” Larraine began regretting her decision, her mood swinging to nearly the same amount of herself through the doors in her imagination. Ultimately, this reasoning was her most common reasoning, she wouldn’t want to inflict pain onto others. “It’s a ‘wait it out’ situation either way, it always has been that way. That’s all I ever do; wait.” She complained, projecting her issues outwards, then disciplining herself to be quiet as she soberly remained seated. Her thoughts, speech and actions couldn’t coexist with each other. Her brain felt the utmost wired; unable to concentrate as the diseases stirred within her.

He nodded as he listened carefully to her words. He could hear the pain, the annoyance, the exhaustion in them. He wanted to do something for her, but he wasn't sure what. Maybe she just needed what he'd needed not too long ago. "I may not know exactly what you're going through, but I isolated myself for a long time due to my mutation. Staying on the streets isn't a good idea," he instructed gently as he thought about every word.

"Sometimes...you just need someone to be there. Going alone, while safe, doesn't really help anything. You'll find yourself cold and hard, maybe even addicted," he said, not realizing what she'd dealt with, he was really just referencing his alcoholism that he'd struggled with before he'd met Lee. "What are you looking for?" he asked after a moment.

"We know a place to stay, but do you need guidance, someone who can simply help you deal with life, or do you just need a friend?" he said, looking at the younger woman without moving. "We may not be so different; I've walked a dark path myself, until recently. Maybe I can help you the way others have helped me. Or if it helps, I can share a bit of what I've been through."

He moved to somewhat sit on the ground, folding his arms across his chest as he thought over things. He wasn't very good at this, but he was trying, and he liked to think he was getting better every day.

His gentle nature motivated Larraine to stay calm whilst in his presence. Instead of focusing on the pain she was currently enduring, her mind would dwell on his words in replacement to the agony. “You’re right - I shouldn’t be alone, especially on the streets. But that’s the way it has been for a while now.” She says, despair filling her eyes briefly, before she stopped herself from becoming emotional. His instructions would benefit her well-being, as she rubbed against her legs to ease the pain from the mutated diseases churning inside of herself.

As he questioned what she truly desired, her mind went blank. “I don’t know,” she indicated a hesitant tone in her words. “I want to be able to go to college, to pursue my dreams. Is it a completely an unreachable goal to want to be a broadway-actress?” She then rambled an inquiry to the man. A bleak smile plastered across her face; it would be noticeable that the idea of her possibly reconnecting to society and pursuing her dreams brought happiness to her expression.

Her expression then turned sour, as she was reminded of the elephant in the room - her abilities. To be able to tolerate education once again, with the trauma she experienced because of her powers, was going to be difficult. However, she was willing to push past her negative experiences to potentially be situated with positive experiences instead; determined to challenge herself for a more preferable existence.

“I wouldn’t mind having a friend,” she confessed. “I have a few acquaintances - I’m not completely alone. I don’t know if they’re the best influences, but I haven’t been either for the most part.” She nods to his offer, wanting to hear his story; anything to pass the time, she supposed. “What do you mean by guidance? I would like to have guidance.. But I’m the type of person who prefers to spend the majority of their time in isolation. At this point, I don't even know if I'm able to be helped.”

He nodded, smiling softly. "Maybe, but just because something's been a certain way for a long time, that doesn't mean it's supposed to be that way. Sometimes life changes. Other times you have to be the one to change it," he advised, still maintaining his physical position.

Then, she mentioned her personal goals, and he nodded. "I think that's perfectly reasonable. When I was about your age, I wanted to be a pro fighter. I started training right out of high school, and by the time I was twenty, I was semi-pro. I had a clean record, maybe two losses by the time I was twenty-three. There, I had a big fight in Vegas. I was going to be signed that night. Well...I got put in a kimura lock. It snapped my arm clean, but not being able to feel, I didn't even flinch, and within thirty seconds I'd knocked the guy out, fair and square. But my mutation was out in the open, now, and most people thought my ability was technically cheating. I was blackballed from fighting professionally again. But I've still found my purpose." He gave a soft smile. "So, if that's what you want to do, I wouldn't say that anything is stopping you. I say you should go for it. It's better to try, than to spend your life wondering what if."

He paused again, thinking of the right thing to say. "Guidance. Someone to sort of lead you, mentor, maybe. Or just be there when you need someone. I didn't think I was able to be helped either, until a few months ago, that is. It wasn't too late for me, so I know it isn't for you."

His lectures, inspirational speeches - they’re captivating. It was evident that he had experienced a form of failure and disappointment during his lifetime to be able to relate to Larraine’s situation. “For the longest time I didn’t want to be helped.” She commented, pausing, finally directing her vision towards his. “But I don’t want to be a victim anymore - I don’t want to waste my life reliving the same events over and over again.”  

“You really don’t think it’s too late for me?” She metaphorically asks, furrowing her brows. “Sure, why not.” She astonishingly agreed to his offering. It wasn’t common for her to agree with the offers of other individuals. But in this case, Larraine needed to be aided and wouldn’t even necessarily care if it was apart of a whimsical plan. That whimsical plan was a story for another day.

Her body began to twitch briefly, contracting - churning. She clenched her eyes together to ignore the pain, “I’m assuming you’re going to be my mentor, correct?” Her words were sharp as she dislocated herself mentally from her surroundings whilst still in discussion. “What’s your first plan as my mentor?” She interrogated him, a crooked smile appearing on her face. “Hopefully dumpster diving won’t be apart of our agenda. I cannot handle that at the moment.” The thought of scavenging for food caused her to feel nauseated, or perhaps that happened to be the reactions of her body once again.

“Sorry to hear how people reacted to your abilities,” she recited his backstory. In a way, Larraine was impressed how capable he turned out to be considering that his ambitions were poured down the drain. “I’m sure you’re still quite the boxer.. and I'm also sure they're idiots not to allow you in the ring, or maybe quite the opposite in retrospect.” She gently laughed, anticipating being away from this shelter, and overall environment. Hopefully the toxicity of her physical pain wouldn't last for an excessive time period.

"I completely understand. I didn't want to be either, until recently. You don't have to be a victim. Especially not in the world we live in. Sure, some people are still assholes, but we have a community, people who can step up and help out. Who've walked where you have. And I know it's not too late for you. It wasn't too late for me, after all," he said, with a surprising bit of wisdom in his voice.

"Your mentor? I can be, if that's what you want. I mean I'm not the only one here, and others may be more suited, but...I'm pretty sure I can help you," he said with a nod. "Well, eventually we'll have to get you settled in, but that can be taken care of in due time. First, I think we need to find a way to calm you down, if that's possible. Something to ease your mind of whatever it is your feeling."

He paused again, thinking. "People tend to fear what they don't understand. And maybe, but like I said, I've found other uses for my skillset," he said, moving a little closer to her.

She nods, “I appreciate that. I appreciate that you, a stranger, would say that.” The contagions swarming her body were reluctant. Her facial expression turned infirm briefly. Soon afterward, a gas substance began spreading from Larraine’s body, and towards any individuals in a five-foot radius of her. This substance’s scent would be foul, in terms of both smell and sight. It definitely wasn’t the worst symptom that her body frequently expressed.

A kind expression appeared beyond the facade whilst she exceptionally listened closely to his words. “Calm me down?” Her brows furrowed. That may have struck a nerve, however, it wasn’t his fault. “They pass naturally, I don’t know any mechanisms to stop it from happening. My body has to simply go through the pain and adjust to.. whatever it's dealing with.” She tries to explain, anticipating that he would understand. Her shoulders raised as she finished her sentence to shrug. His kindness hadn't gone unnoticed and perhaps that was an indicator to why she wasn't projecting as harshly as she commonly did. “Maybe an isolated room could help.” She suggests, the solidity of the aura surrounding her causing her eyes to dampen.

Her feet gradually brought her upwards from the chair, as she held both of her hands up against her chest to allow exposure of warmth to gravitate toward her body. “You wouldn't know if I had to give my details in exchange to stay here, right?" Larraine mumbled, directing her vision to the front-desk. "I don’t want to go into full detail, but not so long ago I did something that I’m not proud of and now I’m paying for the consequences. I haven't committed anything too worrying.” Her eyes lacked sincerity in a way, however, she did mourn the fact that she harmed another individual - even if that said person happened to have infuriated her entire being in the moment. “But as you said earlier,” she duplicated his words. “People tend to fear what they don’t understand.”

He smiled softly. "We're all in this together. You don't have to go at this alone, which is good considering it's hard to be a mutant. Most of the world either fears you or hates you or some weird mix of the two. So we look out for each other. Really, that's what we're doing here," he explained, motioning to the room around him. He noticed her brow furrow as she explain that she just had to wait her mutation out.

"Yeah...we should probably get you out of here for now. Once you have your own room, you can wait it out there. I don't think you need too much detail. Name, ID, that sort of thing."

He thought a moment as he stepped closer to her, closing the distance. "We've all done things we regret, others may frown on. But you can't live in the past; it's about what you're going to do with yourself."

The concept of mutants being together, acquainted, together; seemed unrealistic to the girl. Although her ideals differed, the man's optimism allowed her to freely allow him to share his ideals. They were polar opposites, however, that wouldn't stop her from admiring his traits. “Perhaps we can help each other but in our darkest moments, we truly only have ourselves. That’s why you can never be too independent on another person.” She shared her mindset with the male, conveying an inability to trust in others, the opposite of her earlier conversational jest. As he motioned the room, her eyes began thoroughly observing the room. Perhaps it wasn't as petrifying as she had once led herself to imagine.

She sighs, “I have to deal with the consequences sooner or later.” Bravery was shown throughout that remark. “What’s the point of wasting another day?” She tenderly smiled, perhaps adapting around the man’s positive nature. Her hands scavenged throughout her purse, collecting her ID, belongings. The contents of her purse were given to the front desk for identification.

As she explained her details to the receptionist, an understanding atmosphere would be met; at least for the younger individual. The entire situation, paired with the fact that she could potentially harm the receptionist by being near her worried her. The prolonged action of the receptionist scanning her belongings distressed her. Fortunately, her symptoms allowed the receptionist to suggest her to be secluded from the initial symptoms spreading; as they were worrying. Shortly afterwards, she then went into the isolated room. It possessed entertainment, a television, and it wasn't too secluded. Larraine couldn't recall the last time she had been able to savor in the relaxation of over-saturated television. "Maybe.. this isn't as terrible as I once thought it was."

"True, but sometimes it helps to have support; some things you can't do on your own. You don't need to fully depend on others, but it's nice to have a support group sometimes. Someone to keep you straight," he said softly. "Cross that bridge when you get to to it. Until then, don't fret too much about it," he comforted softly.

He waited as she got her things in order and made her way to the desk. He walked beside her, making sure everything was okay. When she finished, he looked over at her. "So you're all set. I'll let you have time alone. I'll be here when you're ready," he said.

His words were truthful and reasonable. They contradicted the pessimistic atmosphere of her personality. She was grateful to be in his company, in a way. It did cross Larraine’s mind that Blaine seemed similar to that of an inspirational speaker. An individual who tried to inspire millions and in a way, his ways corrected Larraine’s non-trusting personality, albeit briefly. “Thank you,” is all she could muster before isolating herself; closing the door behind Blaine.

Allowing herself to relax and relying on television for a source of entertainment irritated the female. It was comforting, however, without a proper source of substance she wouldn’t be able to truly ease the tension. During this period, the younger woman doubted Blaine's intentions, The Sanctuary's intentions. It was unusual for her to meet an individual as authentic as he appeared. Having a sense of support-system, whether that was to be abandoned, startled her. Her mind day-dreamed as she imagined herself becoming custom to it but that was evidently unrealistic for the female.

She briefly went back and forth from her isolated room. Time passed, her symptoms progressed; mutated. Her eyes closed as she went into unconsciousness, entering a hibernated state as she remained in a segregated room away from others. Despite this, it would seem as her the common contagions weren't affecting her too exceptionally. The next day, she would awake to perceive an unfamiliar face at the edge of her bed.