Simply Ridiculous [Open]

[Autumn Buckland]

Since finding out that ferry prices had gone up a considerable waver, Autumn Buckland was not a happy young lady. She'd thrown herself into completely sabotaging all her classes by way of simply not turning up, and though she had actually gotten passable grades in nearly all of her lessons, she still stoically refused to learn Algebra, and flat out scoffed at other pursuits which, in her opinion, were not helpful to her or her family. Why would she ever need to put letters in a sum? Why would she need to know the chemical structure of iron? It was all pish posh and fiddle. And she had absolutely no desire to sit around playing nice when she was stuck here.

So, her first port of call in her one woman strike of Hammel was to sit in the student lounge with the silly TV and the stupid pinball machines and glare a hole in the back of Eliza Mimford's head. Then, when the stupid fifteen year old with her love of stupid things such as perfumes and cell phones and high heels paraded off from such a horrid glare, she found herself entirely alone in the room.

Setting her pitcher plant down in the centre of the room, she airy glanced at the various little potted plants to decorate the room. It was then that Miss Buckland realised she'd got the ingredients to make a very delightful forest room all on her own, and to hell with any comments about her using her power all wrong. At least she wasn't commanding plants to throw people around, or strangle them. Or even creating poisons to put in people's tea. She only used her power to HELP and to make herself more comfortable.

So it wasn't a particularly far stretch to ask the spider plant on the left whether it fancied growing up a little more, or ask the little pot of cress someone was growing for a project if it needed more volume.

"I do beg your pardon, dear plants, but I am quite sick of all this rubbish and I have absolutely no intention of continuing my stay here. Could you kindly let yourselves go a little - this place is awful." She lamented, arms folded staunchly over her chest. "I want to be back home and until I am, no one is going to tell me what to do." She added, with a few tuts from an indoor palm in the corner.

Still, without much encouragement, there began a green mutiny over the student lounge, till Autumn was surrounded by leaves of varying types and sizes, and the entire room looked disturbingly like a jungle, or a ruin where the plants had taken over. "Take that, you prigs." She scoffed, sitting in the middle of the leafy chaos with her eyes narrowed. "Horrid stuffy child snatching prigs!" She repeated, a little louder.

She hoped someone would join her one girl protest at being stuck learning what number n was when someone should have just written it as a number in the first place. Or why she needed to know what onomatopoeia was. Or why H2SO4 was important to her welfare. It was all a load of inapplicable rubbish stopping her from being home, making blankets and petting Danjadan. So to hell with it all, and may a horrible stampeding Dullahan come and attack the school.

[Aisling MacGrory]

There was a very low probability of Aisling suddenly winding up in a forest, when she'd been sitting peacefully in the student lounge only seconds before. In fact, she'd already calculated just that percentage, as it mostly jumped into her head the moment she looked at a nearby palm tree, one that was quivering in a most disconcerting manner. It shifted, it moved, and Aisling just had to stare. The sheer improbability of the even overwhelmed her. Things like this just didn't happen.

But it was. The plant grew around and over Aisling, somehow moving about and encasing her in green. To be more accurate, it wasn't the palm tree itself, but rather its nearby neighbor that began the horticultural assault. Aisling attempted to fling her arms out to protect, and even used her IPad, that faithful notebook, as a defense weapon. It turned out that there wasn't an app for that.

At this point, Aisling was feeling like some captive in a poor pulp fiction piece: helplessly pinned by plant life. Worse, she couldn't actually scream or cry for help. Instead, Aisling was left flailing her arms and legs, trying to work one free. Surely someone would notice that a plant was moving in a particular fashion, or possibly that there were fleshy bits extending where greenery dominated.

At least, the probability of that happening was much higher than the probability of plants randomly growing and assaulting a person.

[Autumn Buckland]

Aisling had been completely ignored in the student lounge - Autie wasn't even aware of anyone else aside from herself and plants in the room. The entire room was gradually becoming more and more wild, till eventually there were swathy layers of foliage around the place. Thick patches of leaves, even moss from outside, a few broken tiles now sprouted green grass, and the plants that had previously been well behaved were now spanning the entire room.

The redhead felt rather exhausted from this, but she felt stubbornly pleased with the mess, till she noted a person in the corner flailing around. Huffing, she rose from her seat - which was now crawling with plant life, and peered down rather demandingly at the teen now being strangled by vines. "Oh. You could have said something." Her voice said sharply, asking the plants to politely release the assistant.

"I don't suppose you want to join in my boycott of this vile and most oppressive places." She folded her arms over her chest, positively seething, before spotting the ipad and rolling her eyes. "No. I guess not by the fact you're already attached to some piece of electronic plastic." Huffing angrily, she returned to the sofa and began talking angrily to her pitcher plant, eyes narrowed. Words like kidnapping kept being spoken, and the plant waved it's leaves furiously with it's mistress.

"Well you can tell the teachers to stuff their horrid little lessons and their kidnapping up their backsides. And that if they don't let me go home within the next week, this AWFUL place is going to be a jungle." Autumn wavered then, jutting her lip out, taking a deep sigh and closing her eyes. She was going to get out, she just had to put the pressure on, and this girl with her pad thing and flailing was clearly not the rioter she was after.

[Aisling MacGrory]

A student. Well, yes, it would have to be a student, wouldn't it? This was the student lounge, and plants really didn't just grow out of no where (they did, but the probability was abysmally small, and Aisling knew of very few documented cases of such instances). Said student was encouraging or ordering the plants to release Aisling, and the mute girl gladly pulled herself out of it, even maintaining a grip upon her computer.

Could have said something. Aisling nearly blushed. No, she couldn't, and having that so blatantly pointed out to her made her want to go back and hide in the foliage again. Yet, unlike most of Aisling's peers, it seemed as though Autumn wasn't really saying it to be hurtful; just saying it to vent. For the redhead continued, almost as if Aisling weren't there.

Couldn't go home, protesting, boycotting, even. Aisling tilted her head quizzically. What exactly was this girl hoping to accomplish? Clearly throwing a fit in the middle of the student lounge wasn't going to accomplish much of anything. The probability of this venture's success was just... astronomically low. Suffice to say, it was far more likely that plants would grow.

Aisling shifted her computer, her hands flying as she attempted to sign this to Autumn. ASL wasn't exactly made for communicating probability errors to stubborn girls, but Aisling was clearly trying to get it to work. Finally, she repeated the sign for "why" several times, figuring that it, at least, should be evident.

Because surely Autumn had some form of logic behind her protest. She couldn't possibly be protesting for the sake of protesting. That made no sense.

[Autumn Buckland]

Autumn wasn't used to having her angry rants met with silence, so she simply looked at Aisling expectantly as though she were waiting for some sort of influence. But, none came, so the redhead scratched at the back of her head, seized her pitcher plant and scooted over to sit beside the other girl with her head tilted. "Oh." She breathed. "Did a sidhe steal your voice? That happened to my ma's best friend when she was little."

The pitcher plant's long leaves curled over Aisling's wrist imploringly, as though the plant were trying to understand on Autumn's behalf, and the other plants shifted around in the room. The angry girl's green eyes softened slightly, and she watched the hands move with a tap of the head. Oh goodness, her mother had taught her a little of this as a child. What did it mean?

Frustrated, she tugged at her hair till she remembered the word, and then looked surprised. "You're asking me why?" She offered, leaving the pitcher plant beside Aisling, and then pacing the room like a caged animal. "I'm a Roma." She said proudly, thumping her chest above her breast and tipping her head up high. "We travel and have adventures and there ain't no one who can stop us from being who we are. Then out of nowhere some poxy little man shows up and takes me away from my family and stuffs me in this box." She stomped her foot.

"And then, my cousin Romie gets stuck here too, and we're both bloody sick of it." She scowled, giving a barefooted kick to the table. The pitcher plant was still being particularly friendly to Aisling under Autie's influence, and seemed to turn itself to look at the redhead and her unhappy tantrums. "The way I see it, if all of us use our powers at once, the school'll be over run and the staff'll be so overw...welled that we can escape."

"Either that or I'll just be as big a horrible pest as I can till they're sick of me." She added defiantly, glaring a hole in an uncovered piece of wall. "Wouldn't you be angry if you were stuck somewhere you didn't want to be? Without your family stuck with people who think letters are numbers and talking about atoms and neutrons and all this other rubbish?" The redhead paused then, and looked at Aisling for support. "Like I imagine people think you're funny because you can't talk. People think I'm funny because I hate shoes and wear old clothes."

Autumn flopped on the floor then, and hung her head. "I do just want to go home."

[Aisling MacGrory]

A sidhe? Aisling hadn't the foggiest idea what that was, but she was fairly certain that it had little to nothing to do with her voice being lost. She was tempted to try to explain, but really, Autumn seemed like she already had quite a lot going on already. Interrupting would just be rude, and Aisling really didn't think it was nearly as interesting as Autumn's story.

Why? Nod. A Roma. At least Aisling understood that term, though hearing it made her tilt her head. What was a gypsy doing in Hammel? Aisling's hands were already twitching, dying to ask the question, but, again, Autumn seemed to already be off and talking, and the silent girl didn't want to interrupt. Besides, Aisling couldn't help but find Autumn incredibly fascinating. People actually thought and acted like this? She'd thought it was only something that you saw on television.

That does not have a high chance of succeeding Aisling signed, before realizing that Autumn probably didn't understand her. The mute rolled her eyes to the ceiling, wishing that this whole communication thing was easier. So she tried widening her eyes and shaking her head, but Autumn had already moved on. Horrible pest. Aisling had to nod some, but she was shaking her head soon enough. Neutrons and such weren't rubbish, but she was figuring that the sign for "science" wasn't something that Autumn would get either.

People think her funny. Aisling nodded slowly, her hands going to play with her hair. What else was she supposed to do? It wasn't like--- okay, Autumn had stopped talking, or at least, sunk to the floor and starting thinking. Aisling cautiously approached, and lightly placed her hand upon Autumn's back, patting it reassuringly. She even tried a slight squeeze. Sure, Aisling didn't agree with Autumn's full reasoning, since learning was possibly the best thing ever, but she could understand the pain of separation.

And how couldn't someone be sad upon seeing someone look like that?

[Autumn Buckland]

If only Autumn had known Aisling had no idea what a Sidhe was, she would have gone into a lengthy diatribe about the mischievious creatures and how she most desperately wanted to marry a Sidhe prince and be whisked away to the wonderful forest cities they inhabited. But sadly, she had no idea, so she merely decided that Aisling must have upset a Sidhe and had her voice stolen from her.

"I do apologise but I don't know much hand language." She said suddenly, rubbing her head. "But if you write things down I can try to answer them as best as I can. Or something." Now she understood how her poor flowers felt when they spoke to people. The language was wonderful and complex, much like how Aisling's hands danced like fire around each other, trying to make letters and sentences, but so few people could understand. She instead shuffled closer as if that would help her understand.

"I'm just not right here. Like an odd sock in a sea of pairs. Or a big blot on an old library book. I was happy." She breathed slowly, trying not to cry or get too upset. "I loved my caravan, I loved the horses and making blankets and carving stones to make beaded bracelets and necklaces. I loved cuddling up with Danjadan - he's my dog - and having to help make traps for Winter and hearing the Irish accent everywhere. I liked hearing Grandma Sabina tell us stories about the unicorns and how we scared them away." She hiccuped, and balled her hands into fists.

But then Aisling put a hand on her shoulder, and she looked up almost hopefully, as though somehow the mute girl would be able to help her. "Thank you." Autumn said quietly, swiping at her eyes. "I know it's probably very odd to a lot of people." She began, tucking her legs up underneath her. "But that's the life I want. I like travelling and not being stuck down. I like learning the old ways. I don't like it here." She felt her lip tremble and looked vaguely embarrassed, before covering her face, letting out a miserable sob.

[Aisling MacGrory]

Didn't know much hand language. Not that Aisling had really been expecting much. She sighed, letting her hands drop. Thankfully, there were other ways of communicating with people. She'd long since learned the wonders of text messaging, and could easily use her phone to do so. Really though, people communicated enough with body language, and Aisling generally preferred to use that, unless she absolutely had to communicate something more complicated.

Right now, she needed to listen anyway. Autumn told of her life, or snippets of her life, and it absolutely fascinated Aisling. It had never occurred to the mute that someone would actually live like that, as if out of a storybook or something. It seemed highly impractical, not to mention improbable, but years of living around or in Hammel had taught Aisling that the improbable happened with alarming frequency.

Thank you. Odd. Aisling frowned, almost tearing up herself. There wasn't anything a research assistant could do to help a student stay. There was something that a girl could do to help right now. So Aisling put her arms around Autumn and pulled her in for a hug.

Oh, it was awkward. Aisling didn't seem to quite know how you were supposed to hold a near stranger, and comforting really wasn't something she did all that often. Yet she was still stroking Autumn and letting her say or do whatever.

If only she could actually do something.

{sorry about kinda letting Autumn take the lead here, but, well, it's their personalities >< }

[Autumn Buckland]

Autumn found it oddly comforting to have someone say very little and just listen to her as she spoke. The plants were the same, and she was very tempted to ask Aisling if she'd ever been a plant in a previous incarnation. However, that was silly, as people didn't remember what they'd been before, so she simply snuffled slightly and swatted her eyes again. "I suppose it doesn't make a lot of sense to someone who's lived in a house all their life and stays in one place." She began, trying to justify herself to the silent girl.

"But it's so lovely to wake up and decide to go somewhere else that day. And all my cousins and Aunts and Uncles and my Grandpa and Grandma help tack up the horses and close up the caravans, then we sit out on the step and take the bridleways that are left in Ireland to go where we like. Sometimes the villagers nearby don't like us 'cause they think we're like them modern travellers. You know? The ones that steal and litter and cause trouble, but we aint. We're good people and we work hard." She scrunched her nose up slightly, then shrugged huffily.

The warmth of Aisling's hug managed to cheer the girl enough to get her to smile, and she rested her head on the nook of her shoulder, taking deep breaths. It didn't matter that it was awkward and clumsy, it was comforting like the cuddles she got from her mother. The redhead's arms wound around her, and she allowed herself to cry quietly, careful not to get the girl's shoulder too wet.

"Thank you again." She said quietly, breaking apart after a long exhale. "I just feel like a tiger in a tiny cage having people poke and prod and laugh and mock." She took a deep breath. "It's just not right. I am certain I can be a good meta human without being here."

[It's fine <3]

[Aisling MacGrory]

No, it didn't make much sense to Aisling. In fact, the very idea of constantly traveling nearly made her head spin, as it hardly sounded like an agreeable way of living. Yet Autumn seemed to love it, and she seemed very true, if more than a little odd. Besides, what were the chances of a modern day gypsy being blessed with meta powers and winding up in an American school?

Approximately 3,558,321 to 1, but who's counting?

The mention of Ireland did catch Aisling's attention. Her name would let anyone realize her own heritage, though Aisling was first gen American, technically, as both her parents had moved stateside. Still, she'd grown up around the accent, and would have likely had it herself, if she had a voice at all.

When Autumn turned, it made Aisling stiffen, uncertain as to what she should be doing. So opted for more awkward patting, feeling the tears begin to leak from Autumn's eyes. The mute was tempted to start signing again, before realizing that the gypsy didn't understand "hand speak."

At least "you're welcome" was a fairly easy sign to understand, as was Aisling's attempt at an unsteady, but still reassuring smile. This was soon followed by some sympathetic nodding, quickly followed by wide eyes and a shake of the head.

Hammel was the best place for people like them, far better than the outside world. It was a sanctuary where the weird and unique could be themselves. Plus, if all the metas left, Aisling wouldn't have anything left to study. Well, there would still be the other projects, but the metas were the most interesting.

So there was much headshaking and some fluttering signs which, of course, Autumn wouldn't understand.

[Autumn Buckland]

Autumn had no idea how unusual she was, though she had some knowledge of how odd she was in the school. It was tight and constraining, as though no one had ever needed free open spaces to live in before. The dorms didn't have enough windows, the gardens were too tidy, too well kept to be natural and give a sense of freedom.

"Say." She said quietly, after a long moment of snuffling. "Could you teach me your language? It's so beautiful." She smiled wetly, putting her hands in her lap. "Like leaves and branches curling around each other." There were certain things in life the young redhead appreciated, and beauty - the dancing of fingers to make a language - was one of them. She would love to know another language aside from her Irish, English and plant language. Even then she only knew plant language from her powers.

But the shaking of head made the girl scowl, and she huffed gently, putting her hands on her hips. "You don't understand." She said with a low, unhappy tone to her voice. "I don't feel comfortable here because it's not my world. This is a world where people run off to play with electronic gadgets and pave over nature. It's where people live in brick houses and go to work every day in the same place. They buy food instead of foraging, they bustle around like ants on a cake but without the happiness of working together."

She took a deep breath and chewed on her lip then. "It's your way, but it isn't mine." She concluded, locking eyes with Aisling. She hoped that way she could understand the message she was putting forward.

"I'm going to go home soon. Me and my friend and my cousin are going to leave and we're going to make sure no one can find us and take us back." She huffed, dipping her head and letting her red curls fall into her face. That way Aisling couldn't see the determination and anger in her expression. Who snatched children away from their homes anyway?

After a long stare at her legs, and the hands in her lap, she glanced up with her green eyes and cleared her throat. "I know the wild nature." Autumn's voice lilted, eyes peering out of the window. "I know how to hide tracks, how to catch food and which berries to eat. I know how to make beads from stone and sell them, I even know how to catch fish and build a hut with the trees." She explained, hands curling into determined fists, leaving small crescents on the skin where her nails dug in.

"No one will catch us." She concluded, a faraway look in her eyes.

[Aisling MacGrory]

Aisling was hardly one to worry about being odd, as she considered herself to be among the oddest there. It was enough so that she wasn't going to comment upon it.

Though the mention of learning her language made Aisling's eyes widen slightly. Who actually wanted to learn sign language, save for people who couldn't speak properly? It would make things easier for Aisling, and it would give her someone else to talk to. Still, she wasn't sure how well she could teach someone without having the ability to speak as well. She wasn't sure if she could really tell Autumn that though.

She didn't have a comment to discuss though. Autumn continued, explaining the different worlds. Aisling shifted, wishing she could understand. There were just too many variables; the life was too far removed from hers. Still, there wasn't training there. A meta untrained was dangerous to those they cared about, even if their ability was as benign as Aisling's.

But how to say that?

Then the plan. Immediately Aisling's mind started providing percentages, surprisingly high ones. However, the chances were still dim enough that the girl was shaking her head yet again. Oh, how she wished she had a piece of paper or something. She started digging in her pockets, till she pulled out a phone. A quick typing:

There is a low chance of success for that plan. You really should wait till you're trained. It will be much safer for you and your cousin.

Not because that was the way it should be, though Aisling thought that as well, or because education was good for you, another of her thoughts, but solely because of safety, which was the real focus of it all anyway.

[Autumn Buckland]

Autumn had never really witnessed a phone up close, aside from the occasional pay phone that she'd had to use when her mother needed her to call someone. Definitely not a mobile, or cellphone. She took it into her hands and read the message with a gentle huff. The words were so cold and harsh, like a lot of technology was. Still, it came across and she shook her head with a sigh.

"I am well trained already." She said simply. "The plants listen to me and rarely go wild. Sometimes if I am very upset or threatened." She kept her hands on the phone, turning it over in her palms thoughtfully. It felt alien, like it should have been a hairbrush or made of something organic. "Strange." She breathed, before pushing the phone back to Aisling. It just felt wrong, and caused her to shiver a little bit.

"I don't care about chance, even if there's the smallest one, I have to take it." Another flash of determination burst through her eyes, and she reached over for her pitcher plant, touching it fondly. "No one would ever know me and Romie were meta humans because we wouldn't show it off like idiots." She scoffed. "It's a gift, and nature decided to let me talk to it and listen to me, so why would I want to go and shout about it?" She asked curiously.

In the stories she used to be told, the people who took their magic for granted always ended up with their powers taken away, or being bad. She didn't want to be either of those things.

Autumn looked thoughtful and twirled her fingers round her hair. "It's alright though. It doesn't matter what people think or want, I'm going to go away back to Ireland and be happy." She sighed dreamily, then realised the plants were still going further and further across the room. "That's enough now." She said suddenly, blinking and waving her hands. The plants stilled slowly and then seemed to take a deep breath, settling into their new positions.

"Anyway, would you be so kind as to teach me your language?" She asked hopefully, stroking her pitcher plant like a pet. In some ways, the carnivorous foliage was a replacement for the soft warmth of her lovely collie. She glanced down and smiled. She didn't know what she would have done without the greenery in her life right now.

"I'll try very hard, I promise."

[Aisling MacGrory]

There was no arguing with Autumn, and Aisling almost felt ashamed for trying. The blush crept upon her pale cheeks, and she started to shrink slightly in on herself. It was so hard to remember that other people weren't quite as fixated on probabilities as she, that others weren't as likely to think about things like that. Plus, Autumn did have several good points. She did seem to have a good handle on the plants.

That didn't change the floating numbers in Aisling's head though, the ones telling her that Autumn's half-thought out plan simply wouldn't succeed.

Take the chance, even a small one. Strange, but that statement along boosted Aisling's estimates of Autumn's probability. A small boost, but the sheer determination factor would weigh in. Too many variables for Aisling to make a solid prediction though.

She didn't have to. Autumn kept dreaming, determined to make it back to Ireland. Aisling could hardly blame her; from what she'd heard, the Emerald Isle was truly a magical place, and one that she fully hoped she could make it to one day. She started signing, even completed the whole statement before remembering. So she dragged out her phone, punching in letters before showing:

I hope you make it.

Autumn wouldn't. Aisling was almost certain of it. Variables kept clicking in place for the mute, and she just knew it wouldn't work out. But who cared.

Aisling started to shake her head, then fidgeted. Typing! she could type again. She tried to type out the message, but kept making mistakes. Stomping her foot in frustration, she quickly recovered.

I'm not sure if I can. I can't explain any of the signs to you or anything. Plus, I'm a horrible teacher.

Aisling wanted to add more pluses, but she also wanted to be able to communicate more. The conflict only made her more frustrated, meaning more stomping.

[Autumn Buckland]

Aisling wasn't the first to find that arguing numbers with the stubborn redhead was a waste of breath - or text, for that matter. Autumn was as unmovable as the most elderly oak, and only with repeated knocks and chopping would she eventually crash down, taking an awful lot of things with her. But if she had known what Aisling's power was, she would have been more sympathetic towards the girl. Powers were pure and so difficult to ignore, she knew the twitch in her fingers when there was plant life nearby, and the soft whispers when she lay beside greenery.

"Thank you." She said, looking at the phone again, then folding her hands around Aisling's wrist. "I shall write you a post card or a letter." She bobbed her head in earnest, quite happy to keep in contact with this strange girl who was probably only as strange as she herself was. They were like two opposite sides of a coin, both weird to each other but both odd alone.

She recognised a stomp of frustration and rested a hand on Aisling's knee, in what she hoped was a soothing gesture. She knew that flare of anger when people just didn't understand, and felt almost at one with it by now.

Taking the phone in both hands, she looked over and tilted her head. Ah yes, that would make things difficult, but not impossible. The redhead set the pitcher plant back on the table and scooted a little closer to Aisling. "Wouldn't you like someone to talk to?" She offered curiously, glancing over to her plants. "They talk and talk and no one ever listens. If someone stopped and listened to the plants they'd learn so much."

Certainly a lot of history, and so much wisdom.

"I can try. Then you can talk to someone and I can listen." Her face burnt with determination, and she grabbed Aisling's hand, before clumsily signing something she vaguely remembered.

Can... try... promise