Hope in a basket (open)

[Joe Honnick]

Joe scrawled down things as Jasmine rattled them off over the phone. Lettuce, ketchup, sugar... It went on and on. "Alright.... uh-huh... No problem," Joe said and looked up at his office door as he listened to more things being listed. He nodded his head absently as she gave him precise directions about what to do and what to buy. Joe shifted in his seat and nodded, she was making something rather creative for dinner she was telling him, because Lesedi had had a good day and requested her favorite meal. It lifted Joe's spirits to have the hope that he might finally get a smile out of his little girl. He knew that it was wearing greatly on Rachel. She was looking into graduate school across the country. Maybe she wanted to go that far to get out of the house and away from her parents. But for now Rachel was living at home and working as her first pass at medical school had failed.

Joe smiled, "I'm gonna head out in a few minutes... yes, I'll make sure to get it... I love you too. Bye." Joe smiled as he replaced his office phone into the receiver and logged himself out of his computer. Taking a few folders and important papers and putting them into his briefcase. With that he bid farewell to the rest of the PUSE staff and got into his car. It was a very ordinary blue Camry, he might be well off but he wasn't that well off. He put his case in the backseat and drove quickly to the grocery store. He smiled as he found a relatively close space and stepped into the store, list in hand. If he was quick about it he could be in and out as fast as possible. He was dressed casually with a pair of slacks and a button up.

He grabbed a cart as he strolled by and set to his first task of picking out the vegetables. He found the zucchini he was looking for and started sifting through the green vegetables. This batch did not seem to be looking too good. As he searched through the vegetables he finally found one that he knew his wife would find satisfactory and glanced to the side at the person searching through the cucumbers next to him. His wife had a garden and their cucumbers were doing relatively well. He moved to the tomatoes and juggled a few in his hands. After placing it in the cart he grabbed a head of cabbage and moved on down the aisles. He rounded a corner and quickly had to avert his path to avoid someone crouching and examining the products on the bottom shelf and he ended up knocking over a display of granola bars. "Shoot," he muttered to himself and stooped to start picking them up.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean worked a full week at Hammel, and he typically tried to set aside time on the weekend during which to run errands. However, the best laid plans of mice and men could be derailed. In this instance, he’d noticed that they were running low on milk, due to Bailey’s addition to the family (and because the warm weather was hastening spoilage). As such, the telepath compiled a small list to tide over the family until the weekend and his typical grocery shopping. Then, he had stopped off after closing his office hours, so that he could have the items in hand before suppertime.

Ever since Josh had begun his low-sodium diet, Sean had taken particular care with meal preparations. They had to reserve takeout for special occasions now, as opposed to using it as a remedy when either of them had to work late.

The trip to the store was quick, since Pilot Ridge traffic, even during “rush hour”, hardly constituted traffic by any standard measure. Once parked and in the store, he made quick work of finding the items on his list. He had a hand basket, rather than a shopping cart, since this was only a brief stopover.
Milk. Additional eggs for Josh’s baking endeavors. A carton of strawberries.

Sean had just rounded the corner into the next aisle, intent on picking up another box of cereal, when he saw a display topple over. The telepath wasn’t at his fastest these days, but he still crossed over to the display with haste. A man who appeared to be a contemporary was already in the midst of cleaning up, and Sean set down his basket to lend a hand.

“Let me help you,” he offered, as he knelt down to begin picking up boxes. “This goes quicker with two people.”

[Joe Honnick]

Joe found his head shaking a little. He would be clumsy and knock everything over. In his defense he’d been avoiding making someone a cart hit victim. The person he’d evaded selected something and looked at him then quickly looked away. America had changed since he’d been a child. He liked to think that he would help someone with something like this. Probably a selfish meta human, he thought in passing and shook his head again and crouched to clean up his mess. It was unfair to just assume someone was a meta human because they were a little rude. They were all guilty of rudeness in some form to someone within the span of their lives. Even without the intention of being rude, it happened and Joe hadn’t lived this long to go through life with the illusion that he was always right.

He stacked boxes in his hands and placed them as best he could guess as to how they had fit before. No, he refused to let this ruin in day. He was heading home to what was hopefully going to be the best dinner since his dear daughter, his poor Lesedi had been turned inside out by that meta human psychic. If Joe ever got his hands on that bastard he’d make him pay for what he did to his daughter. No one did that to his daughter and got away with it. If there was one thing Joe vowed before he saw his deathbed it was that he’d see the man who ruined his daughter behind bars. Joe shook his head and made himself smile. Lesedi was much better than she had been and this dinner was a testament to her strength.

Joe looked up and smiled at the man who started helping him. “Thanks, I really appreciate that.” Joe said with genuine gaiety. Not a bad day after all, Joe reflected with a sigh of relief. He had so much to say to Jasmine when he came home. He was dying to finish up here and get home to see the brightness in his daughter’s eyes when she realized that he was bringing home her favorite meal. He just wanted those eyes to be his daughter’s the way he remembered them, not the sadness that was there now. “It does go twice as fast,” Joe said placing another box and gathering two while letting the man grab the final two. Joe rose to his feet with a groan at the twinge in his knee. Placing the last two boxes he offered a hand to help the other man up. “I really appreciate your help.”

[Dr. Sean Neville]

With two people, the cleanup did go more quickly, particularly since Sean possessed long arms and large hands; that made the task of reaching for scattered items all the easier. The telepath had been fortunate enough to come from a privileged background, and so he had never had to have a service job for spending money. He had engaged in a bit of restocking when taking his turn in E.R. rounds, but that hardly qualified as real shelf-stocking. Had he had the opportunity, Sean would have been good at it.

In his younger days, before his back and knees ached with too much bending or stretching. Stocking was for younger people, and he had strong opinions about the economic conditions that forced people in his age group, or those who were even older, into this work. Those thoughts remained on his mind, as he picked up the last of the boxes and set them on their proper display perch.

Then Sean heard a thought from the other man that pushed all notions of economic disparity into the “justice” backburner space of his mind.

...turned inside out by that meta-human psychic.

As an ethical psychiatrist, a responsible psychic meta-human, and someone who strove to be a decent human being, Sean Neville strongly objected to those who would use their powers for personal gain. It was immoral at best, inherently harmful at worst. It ruined lives, as Gabriel Underwood had done, and it contributed to the ever-present anti-psychic bias that existed in their culture, in addition to metaphobia. He was sickened and sorry to learn that someone had used their powers to harm someone so close to the man that he had just met.

However, Sean also understood boundaries, and thus didn’t remark upon that. After all, that hadn’t consciously been shared with him.

Instead, after slowly pushing himself to his feet, he took the other man’s offered hand. “It was my pleasure; it’s the least we can do for each other,” he said, before adding, “My name is Sean.”

[Joe Honnick]

Joe remembered his first job, it wasn’t stocking shelves but it was waiting tables. That had been an interesting experience. His younger daughter worked in retail and was very good at it, however he was still rooting for her second try into medical school. He was so proud of his girls, they were strong and they would survive, even after what happened to Lesedi. Yes, his girls were strong and he’d do anything for them. Joe arranged them with the help of the other man. Joe already liked him. He was definitely someone that Joe respected. Not like all of the other people who tossed sympathetic glances people gave as they passed and went along their rushed lives. Maybe that was a young person thing. There were so many youths around this town, partially he acknowledged as the school’s influence. They were also close enough to the colleges that people moved here for the cheap cost of living.

Still, young people were a different breed altogether. Joe may have raised two daughters successfully into their adulthood but he still didn’t understand them any better than he had himself when he was their age. Maybe it wasn’t ignoring the confusing parts of the mind, but realizing they were there and then realizing that life went on whether or not one was prepared for it. Joe had never had a lot of time to stop and smell the roses, not until he met his sweet. Then she had made him stop to smell the roses. And Joe had to admit, the roses were nice. It was then that Joe had decided everything would be perfect. But life liked to prove him wrong. Joe smiled wistfully as he glanced at the food in his cart, the memories of good times long past, life was a blessing, despite all the curses laced in its seams.

“It’s my pleasure, Sean,” Joe said giving his hand a good solid shake. “I’m Joe.” He looked back at his cart and smiled. “It’s been one of those days, though. Not even that can bring me down.” Joe beamed and he felt the need to share that his daughter was coming back. “My daughter’s been sick for a while and she’s starting to get better. My wife is making her favorite meal. I guess I got a little excited and didn’t quite make that turn!” Joe smiled broadly and all he could think about was his daughters’ smiling faces. It reminded Joe what he was fighting for. Meta-humans couldn't be trusted. They were all tempted and they were all human and they would all inevitably abuse their power.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean had been aware of his privilege since before he entered adulthood, and he continued to acknowledge that there were certain aspects of life that he would never experience firsthand. Even if the telepathy allowed him to experience it in a way that was more personal than secondhand. He would never know what it was like to be poor, or to be a woman, or to be a Person of Color. However, as a not-straight man (as the current vernacular dubbed an “MSM”), and, more importantly, as a meta-human, Sean knew what it was to have to hide or otherwise lay low when confronted with prejudices. He didn’t do so as a matter of course at his age, but he did choose his battles wisely.

For instance, Sean didn’t walk around with a sign on his chest proclaiming that he was a telepath. It came up as a matter of course, but he didn’t offer warnings, and there didn’t exist symbols the same way that the LGBT community did – not that he wore those either. At the same time, the telepath didn’t deny his meta-human status when asked directly, even if it would be easier, or advantageous, to do so. He wasn’t ashamed.

He was naturally pragmatic and cautious. Depending on the source of the prejudices and the circumstances surrounding his encounter, he might make the announcement for the sake of announcement (as he did with Nicholas Kells). But this situation was different.

This man, genial as he was, could never be a friend because of his prejudices. However, given that at least some cause behind his more aggressive thoughts included a psychic who had unconscionably abused his daughter, Sean didn’t find wisdom in the act of rubbing the other man’s face in his powers – which would include explaining how he knew about his prejudices and his daughter’s experience.

This left the telepath in a bit of a bind.

It was perhaps best to try to extricate himself quietly, while scanning a bit for information and then going out of his way to avoid future encounters, if at all possible. Nothing could be gained for anyone when oppressed people were forced to spend time with those who were prejudiced against them. Or he could send out another feeler through a subtler verbal code.

“I hope that your daughter feels better soon,” he said with the utmost sincerity. Psychic damage coupled with an abusive relationship was terrible beyond any rationalization, and nobody deserved that. He hoped for her sake that she recovered soon and that the man who did this to her was appropriately prevented from harming others. “And it happens to all of us. I came by to pick up a few things for my partner; he bakes and doesn’t always remember to add his supplies to the weekly shopping list.”

[Joe Honnick]

The imbalance of power here was in the benefit of Sean. Joe was clueless and he was finding Sean rather pleasant to be around. He wasn’t thinking that someone who was as kind as Sean could be a meta human. In fact he was thinking the opposite. Sean was too kind and polite to be a meta human. There was just no way that someone decent could be associated with those kind of people. The whole lot was filled with thieves and sociopaths. Liars all of them. Joe shook his head and tore the thought away, he’d murder the first person who brought up a meta human to him today, it had been blessedly free of them. And with the mood he had gotten from his wife he was enthusiastic. Optimistic. This had to be a sign, he was doing the right thing.

Joe smiled pleasantly at Sean and bobbed his head with a great amount of joy reaching his eyes. He wanted nothing more than to see his daughter smile again and he wanted his family to be together again. “Thank you, I really appreciate that,” Joe said, deciding that he did indeed like this man. Joe offered no more details about the situation. His job was to keep meta humans in check in politics, make sure that they weren’t abusing their power. His job was also to keep his family out of the crossfire. He would not stand for his family being brought into the fight. Despite the fact that using his daughter’s story would give him a lot of sympathy with the public it would open the door for his daughter’s life to be ridiculed. Joe would do what he could to make sure that that didn’t happen to anyone else. Or the country, state or city. So Joe would keep working for equality. Regardless of anything. Everyone the same in the eyes of the law. That meant that meta humans had to be shut out, they had more power than a human should.

“Ah,” Joe nodded quickly picking up on the terms and gleaning Sean’s sexuality from it. Well, Joe might not understand it himself but it was Sean’s right to do what made him happy. He gave a hearty chuckle. “That sounds familiar,” he shook his head, “My wife is always calling me to pick up things on my way home.” He loved the summer, in the summer he and Jasmine had a very nice herb and vegetable garden, but as soon as the ground froze they were stuck buying produce for the store again. Jasmine made the best herbal teas, he still couldn’t remember the last time he’d been extremely ill, usually something of Jasmine’s picked him up right away. He kept trying to get her to get started up selling her teas and remedies at the farmer’s market but she’d yet to do anything about it.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean detected the shift in the other man’s thoughts towards intense frustration coupled with hatred. As well as the unflattering ableism and assumption that meta-human status was synonymous with criminal or abusive tendencies. This wasn’t a conversation that the telepath wanted to have right now, with this person, in the middle of the grocery store. Which meant that he would have to find a way to leave before this grew worse. Joe’s thoughts were vile to him, and after a long day at Hammel, he didn’t need that.

This was, perhaps, one of the only areas where Sean and this man might agree: it was wrong to expose his daughter to potential ridicule. While meta-humans were an oppressed group, and often a demonized one due to being grossly misunderstood by baseline humans and mis-portrayed in popular media, the United States, as a culture, tended to find a way to blame victims for their abuse. Nobody deserved to be blamed for their abuse, particularly not for a type of abuse against which none but a more power psychic (than the abuser himself was) could defend herself.

Joe, apparently, was more in line with typical Vermont opinions than his metaphobia would suggest, given his reaction to Sean’s not-so-subtle hint about his family life. In one sense, this wasn’t surprising since the other man was an adult resident of Vermont, which meant that he had either moved here of his own volition, or, if he’d been born here, he had made a conscious decision to stay for decades. Decades during which Vermont had become increasingly progressive with each passing year. Still, many people with harsh prejudices – such as Joe’s metaphobia as Sean heard it – held more than one set of vicious prejudices. They were more like Nicholas Kells or Kathleen, although adjusted for whatever privileged (or disadvantaged) groups to which they belonged.

Extricating himself without causing an incident would be more difficult then.

If push came to shove, he could text Josh and have his partner call with an “emergency.” However, Sean hadn’t needed to use that system, with him in that position, in a very long time. That was an extreme method of extrication, and ultimately an unsatisfying one, when confronted with virulent (albeit private) prejudice.

“It’s part of running a joint household.” Running errands for the other man was, in fact, one of the areas of domesticity that Sean particularly enjoyed. It harkened back to when they first lived together and had to hide their relationship from the outside world. Any small task that legitimized their relationship, even in secret, had been cherished. Decades of LGBT-rights advocacy and attendant progress had not completely dismantled those feelings of significance.

[Joe Honnick]

((Sorry it's so short!))

Joe was a strong supporter of all people, and by people he meant not meta humans. It was really only them that he had beef with because they were the ones who had the power to take over and the ability to make people believe anything that they said. Joe’s overarching knowledge of meta humans was not very well done at all, he had very basic understanding of what meta humans were and how they operated. And those had come from bias sources obviously. Joe was smart enough to know that bias when he heard it but he was also clever enough to use it to play into people’s fear. Naturally people fear what they don’t understand and there was a lot that was not understood about meta humans. Joe thought himself fair in most cases, people were people and all people in some way were terrible. Whether it be in their actions or their aptitude at looking the other way it was always in human nature to do what was best for oneself.

It was everyone’s right to think their own thoughts and think them privately and speak their minds. People who took that right away, for Joe, were the worst of all people. If he knew he was speaking to a meta human at the moment he would probably quickly dismiss himself as well. He needed someone to get him some intelligence on the meta human running for election this year. He’d heard tell of a few darker pathways to go but Joe wanted to do this right. No scandals, no lawsuits. That didn’t mean he was going to be kind. All meta humans abused their power and those that thought otherwise were fools. He’d been a fool once. No, meta humans needed to understand that they were no better than everyone else. Power is a fickle thing. It corrupts absolutely. So ones who might have said that they would never use their power for bad, they would easily be pushed to it otherwise.

Joe looked at his cart and with a smile he prayed he might see his daughter’s when he went home. “Very true,” Joe nodded and chuckled a little bit. “Thank you for your help, Sean,” Joe said sticking his hand out for a farewell handshake. “It was nice to meet you, but I’ve gotta get this home.” Joe dug in his pocket. “Here, let me give you my card.” He handed over a card that identified his as the president of PUSE. “Have a nice day,” Joe said ignorant of who he was speaking too.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Of course, there would also be plans to destroy other meta-humans, rather than to try to prevent the specific abusive man who harmed his daughter from harming others. Such was the problem with prejudices and exaggerations. Gleaning that from the other man’s thoughts, Sean decided that he might need to have a conversation with Josh about his potential opposition. The telepath had tried to warn his partner about how deep metaphobia went, but the attorney, having been (largely) shielded from this, didn’t quite believe him. He also decided that he should give a warning to Elizabeth. She was politically savvy, but still, a head’s up couldn’t hurt.

Sean took the other man’s hand for the farewell handshake, and then, after a firm pump, found a card thrust into his hand. “You too,” he replied to Joe, turning in the opposite direction to make sure that they wouldn’t find themselves set upon the same path as they wound their individual ways through the grocery store as they completed their respective shopping errands.

It was only when he was alone that the telepath took the opportunity to read the card he had been given.

Joe Honnick
President
People United for Safety and Equality

Lovely.

Sean recognized the organization name from some of the propaganda flyers and pamphlets that had popped up around Pilot Ridge.

So not merely a virulent metaphobic bigot, like Kathleen, but one who belonged to (and led) an organization dedicated to such prejudices.

Now that he had a name and contact information, Sean would be able to monitor this situation more closely. This was a matter of research in his study and then, depending on what else occurred, he would discuss it with Yvette. As the Headmistress of Hammel, it was her decision as to what they did as a faculty group, or under the banner of Hammel. But they should be prepared.