[ The treetops make it difficult for her to see anything... much. But Lucina's stood before the start of enough battles to feel the air change, the tension rising in the air as wary acceptance turns into a grim acceptance. Fury. The need to defend their home. And she's content to let the atmosphere continue to charge around her, eyes narrowed up at the parts of the sky that she can see. ] Do you think—
[ And then, the first howl pierces the air.
And quickly the second, and the third. Then it's an entire chorus of howls toward the sky, which is unlike what she's ever heard before. Even after an explanation, she blinks, looking around at her own teammates, until she manages to catch Lissa's eye once more.
She pauses. The howls continue. She blinks, before she turns up skyward as well, and —
Lucina joins the chorus, but her howling just sounds so painfully awkward in comparison. ]
[ Ironically ( or perhaps, not at all ), she's much more comfortable in the front lines. It's not the first time she's come across individuals with crackling lasers coming out of guns, and it will certainly not be her last. Or so she figures. But multiple battles mean that sometimes, her roles change.
Like now. Now, her job is the keep a small group of fox babies away from the fight. None of them are happy about it, including her, but she keeps as much of a vigilant eye she can. Until she doesn't. ]
No, wait— [ But the fox cub isn't inclined to listen, otherwise he would have stayed still like he was told. He darts away from the distressed pile of cubs ( which seem to cause even more distress among the left Vulphytes, how did this happen ), heading straight for a hole under a gnarled root.
Only, there are familiar faces ( and familiar feet ) in the way, and she manages to ( hopefully ) shout in time: ] Bellamy, in front of you! [ As the fox pretty much appears right under his feet. ]
[ With enough time, everything calms after the battle. Or maybe it'd be more accurate to say that everything livens up, the energy directing to celebration. The woods somehow seem even more beautiful now that things are peaceful once more; vibrant, maybe because everyone seems to be relishing in the victory.
Regardless of the reason, it's nice to see — Lucina thanks a small cluster of adult Vulphytes for speaking with her ( they, in turn, thank her for her assistance ), before glancing at the crowds once more, not really looking for anything in particular. Maybe that's why she spots the peculiar pile of the cubs, all climbing on top of each other, and ... Scott?
Curiosity beckons her forward. She's not sure what to make of the entire situation, really, considering he seems perfectly at ease despite the sheer number of moss fox babies he currently has on his lap. His shoulders. Any climbable surface, really. ]
... Are you ... alright? [ Surely he is??? If he's so still??? Or maybe the foxes have claimed him for one of their own??? ]
[ He's been assimilated. Or maybe more like adopted. They've hijacked two of Scott's strongest impulses: a disconnected "big brother" protective streak, and the dichotomy of deep emotional currents and a desperate need to connect vs strong psychological barriers to external expression. Plus, he's tall and leggy and interesting to climb on, and infinitely patient with all their exploring (until he has to pull them away from his face before one of them can accidentally open the visor's apertures and blast half the forest, as you do.)
Mostly right now they like him for Storytime, and The Amazing Adventures of the Wolverine Girl. (Their name, not his.) But it takes a lot of focus to keep over a dozen little minds on track and out of the deeper spots in his mind, and Scott like— fumbles mentally trying to wrangle them out of poking in his psyche and get them to hold please on the story and pull one off his shoulder so it'll stop huffing indignantly in his ear and try to recognize and engage with the actual audible voice. ]
Uh...hi? [ Scott...can't actually figure out where to put the one now in his hands, so he's going to have to just...keep holding it. Maybe. Meanwhile a couple are trying to conquer the bend of his elbow in a bid for attention, mentally begging for him to keep going. His mutant power might actually be multitasking. ] Hi, Lucina. It's good. We're good. They're just...a lot.
[ Oh, he's still responding. That's ... good, at least.
The entire situation unfolding in front of her is almost cute, now that the initial shock is gone. She watches the fox in his grasp struggle a little bit, and that's enough to have the corner of her lips twitch upwards. Almost. She's mostly keeping a straight face.
Though she really has no idea what he's talking about. Not really. She just seems a lot of excitable cubs slowly covering every inch of Scott, and that's... every reason to think that they're a lot, really. They might be really heavy with that many on him. ] Do you need help getting them off of you? [ Surely that's what he means. ]
[ Lucina, please. Does he look like a delicate wilting flower who can't handle a bunch of kits? Even ones that seem determined to use him as their own personal Everest. ]
What? No. It's— [ He can focus on talking or he can focus on juggling all the demands of those little minds, determined to get him back on track again. What happened next? What happened next! ]
I've been telling them...stories. [ It's not this hard when Jean's coordinating everything, to talk and think at the same time. Or at least he doesn't feel as much strain switching back and forth between the two tasks. This takes considerable effort. ] They're young. I'm used to telepaths who are more skilled at...dealing with people who don't communicate mentally. [ Ones who don't want to hear his every thought, as opposed to ones who want to chase down any stray figment that slips through his managed focus for fun. ] It takes a lot of focus to keep all of them in the same place. Mentally.
[ Look even the toughest of people need help for the most unlikely reason.
Anyway, it's safe to say that his explanation is met with a healthy dose of skepticism, at first. Mostly because he's definitely not talking to them at all, and stories generally need to be spoken. That is, until the word telepath gets used, and suddenly things start making a lot more sense.
... Not that she understands what's going on exactly, because telepaths are definitely way over her usual level of understanding. Still, she does her best to ... follow along. ] I ... see. I suppose that makes sense.
[ She watches another one try to climb up his shoulder for what is probably the fourth time. ] In that case, is there any way I can help?
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for lissa.
[ And then, the first howl pierces the air.
And quickly the second, and the third. Then it's an entire chorus of howls toward the sky, which is unlike what she's ever heard before. Even after an explanation, she blinks, looking around at her own teammates, until she manages to catch Lissa's eye once more.
She pauses. The howls continue. She blinks, before she turns up skyward as well, and —
Lucina joins the chorus, but her howling just sounds so painfully awkward in comparison. ]
incredible
Lissa stares.
Lissa blinks.
And then Lissa slowly pulls her head back to stare in extreme concern because what just happened? ]
Lucina? Are you okay?
[ More importantly: is it contagious???? ]
for bellamy.
Like now. Now, her job is the keep a small group of fox babies away from the fight. None of them are happy about it, including her, but she keeps as much of a vigilant eye she can. Until she doesn't. ]
No, wait— [ But the fox cub isn't inclined to listen, otherwise he would have stayed still like he was told. He darts away from the distressed pile of cubs ( which seem to cause even more distress among the left Vulphytes, how did this happen ), heading straight for a hole under a gnarled root.
Only, there are familiar faces ( and familiar feet ) in the way, and she manages to ( hopefully ) shout in time: ] Bellamy, in front of you! [ As the fox pretty much appears right under his feet. ]
for scott.
Regardless of the reason, it's nice to see — Lucina thanks a small cluster of adult Vulphytes for speaking with her ( they, in turn, thank her for her assistance ), before glancing at the crowds once more, not really looking for anything in particular. Maybe that's why she spots the peculiar pile of the cubs, all climbing on top of each other, and ... Scott?
Curiosity beckons her forward. She's not sure what to make of the entire situation, really, considering he seems perfectly at ease despite the sheer number of moss fox babies he currently has on his lap. His shoulders. Any climbable surface, really. ]
... Are you ... alright? [ Surely he is??? If he's so still??? Or maybe the foxes have claimed him for one of their own??? ]
no subject
Mostly right now they like him for Storytime, and The Amazing Adventures of the Wolverine Girl. (Their name, not his.) But it takes a lot of focus to keep over a dozen little minds on track and out of the deeper spots in his mind, and Scott like— fumbles mentally trying to wrangle them out of poking in his psyche and get them to hold please on the story and pull one off his shoulder so it'll stop huffing indignantly in his ear and try to recognize and engage with the actual audible voice. ]
Uh...hi? [ Scott...can't actually figure out where to put the one now in his hands, so he's going to have to just...keep holding it. Maybe. Meanwhile a couple are trying to conquer the bend of his elbow in a bid for attention, mentally begging for him to keep going. His mutant power might actually be multitasking. ] Hi, Lucina. It's good. We're good. They're just...a lot.
[ Good practice, though. ]
no subject
The entire situation unfolding in front of her is almost cute, now that the initial shock is gone. She watches the fox in his grasp struggle a little bit, and that's enough to have the corner of her lips twitch upwards. Almost. She's mostly keeping a straight face.
Though she really has no idea what he's talking about. Not really. She just seems a lot of excitable cubs slowly covering every inch of Scott, and that's... every reason to think that they're a lot, really. They might be really heavy with that many on him. ] Do you need help getting them off of you? [ Surely that's what he means. ]
no subject
What? No. It's— [ He can focus on talking or he can focus on juggling all the demands of those little minds, determined to get him back on track again. What happened next? What happened next! ]
I've been telling them...stories. [ It's not this hard when Jean's coordinating everything, to talk and think at the same time. Or at least he doesn't feel as much strain switching back and forth between the two tasks. This takes considerable effort. ] They're young. I'm used to telepaths who are more skilled at...dealing with people who don't communicate mentally. [ Ones who don't want to hear his every thought, as opposed to ones who want to chase down any stray figment that slips through his managed focus for fun. ] It takes a lot of focus to keep all of them in the same place. Mentally.
no subject
Anyway, it's safe to say that his explanation is met with a healthy dose of skepticism, at first. Mostly because he's definitely not talking to them at all, and stories generally need to be spoken. That is, until the word telepath gets used, and suddenly things start making a lot more sense.
... Not that she understands what's going on exactly, because telepaths are definitely way over her usual level of understanding. Still, she does her best to ... follow along. ] I ... see. I suppose that makes sense.
[ She watches another one try to climb up his shoulder for what is probably the fourth time. ] In that case, is there any way I can help?