overconfidently

( His expression says it all as he looks over to her. No, no he does not know Emma Frost. However, he gives the name another think before he's lifting his gaze up to the sky through the TK bubble. )

Uh... no? Should I?

Eh, probably, maybe. She's my mum — technically, we're clones of her, and she's ridiculously filthy rich, so. Potato, potahto.

(He's gotta have her somewhere in his universe, but it's fine, mum is not the point of this conversation.)

Started out Champion, almost touched Paragon. Now we're here.

( Clones. Huh. He... can't really relate, but. Sort of can at the same time? He was made from Scott and Jean's DNA in Sinister's lab. Wasn't even carried of born. Just... made. Maybe she was, too. It's rude to ask, isn't it?

A glance over to her, those blue eyes of his watch her gently. )

Do you miss her? I mean... you knew her?

(Don't worry, she's 100% made in a lab, too. Not born, just... Grown.

She's gonna leave out of this conversation that Emma and Scott were a thing. Someone else might tell him, or she might, just not right now.

Her own ocean-colored eyes close for a second, a shrug of shoulders ensuing.)

Yep, and so does everyone here. Divisive person, to say the least. The Five-In-One either want to please her or want to be close to her, so we can avoid becoming her. We have our moments, but to miss her? Nope. Why?

Edited 2025-04-26 00:50 (UTC)

( He tips his head back again — breathes out softly as he stares at the way the energy around them slowly and so very gently moves around. Keeping them safe. Keeping them hidden. Away from everything and everyone else. )

I don't know. People miss their parents, don't they?

(There is a reason why she calls him sweet Nate. It's because he's clueless, so clueless it makes him cute.

This is one of those moments.)

A lot of them don't, and for a lot of people, super, hugely touchy subject, dearest. Maybe be a little careful when you ask that. Not to me, I don't care, you can ask pretty much anything, but just in general.

( A glance over to her again, he hums at her words — keeps it in mind — then looks back ahead, fingers curling into his palms a little before stretching out again. )

Guess you're right. I didn't even know I had any until recently. Even then, I don't know them. Not really. Just who they are.

Well, two versions of them are here, so you get some sort of chance. Just don't tell Kid Scott, because he gets super annoying and pissy about anything X-Men or future-him related. Actually, don't call him kid, pretty sure he would hate that too.

(Sophie sees that hand, and she remembers how he offered it to her not too long ago. Maybe he's the one who needs it, so she'll offer hers to him instead.)

( When she offers her hand, he blinks — remembers the way someone else might have reached for him once upon a time when it was just the two of them and now, it's just him. Except, right here, within this golden yellow bubble that gently drifts within the navy soup that is the night sky, he's with Sophie and she's very much here and not within his dreams.

A beat or two, he takes her hand— takes her fingers with his own, really. Gentle. Blue eyes dropping their gaze down as he mulls over her words. )

I only just barely spoke to him before finding myself here and on that Aphaia planet. It's weird enough to be around the man who's supposed to be your father, but here he's... my age.

( A bit of a trip, really. )

(This does beat sleeping and dreaming, so perhaps she's a tad glad that neither of them could. Sophie fingers hold his, almost like a quiet way of telling him she's here. Being here, it must definitely be scary for him, albeit in ways that are wildly different from the way she is scared.

At least this feels like such a safe space that any ill feelings are hard to bubble within her.)

... He's younger than you, I'm like, 99% sure.

(Not helping, babe.)

Well, he's not exactly it, anyway.

( Younger than him... great. That's... not anything he ever thought he'd have to deal with and yet, here he is. With an alternate version of his mother and another alternate version of his father who is different from the man he's briefly encountered outside of Etraya and also younger than him. Cool. How does one even bring that up in conversation?

Fingers still gentle in the way they hold to hers, he blinks and looks over then. )

It?

( He's a touch confused. Obviously. )

(Yeah, maybe she should not have said that, but listen. Better than he finds out to Scott's face, anyway.

Sophie slowly switches back to resting on her back, her free hand moving to settle on top of the pair that is holding one another, and she shrugs.)

He's from other, other, other universe. He let me take a peek. So, who knows?

( That's... oh. Not even a younger version of the Scott Summers— of the Cyclops he had met and been blasted in the head by prior to finding his way to Etraya. Well that's not anything he could have anticipated, although maybe he should have, but. He hadn't and it shows in the way his gaze drops again as he processes that.

His fingers slip away from hers then — push at his white bangs as he hangs his head there between his shoulders some. Letting himself take a breath, he tips his head back again then and just... stares up to the gentle way the psionic energy around them moves. )

Yeah. Who knows anymore. Everything's just... a lot.

(She cannot blame him, and she DEFINITELY needs to stop talking too much, because if she had a dime for everytime she said some shit that she probably shouldn't ever since she came to Etraya, she'd probably have 5 whole dimes, which isn't much, but she definitely should rethink some of this.

Not now, though. Now, she allows him to breathe, and she does the same, her hands resting on her stomach as she stares at the golden-stained sky.)

I can't blame you. Everything is a lot, all the time. What is your deal, anyway? Tell me everything.

What do you mean?

( Arms draped over his knees again, he looks over to her there in their safe haven of sorts, still keeping it functional and drifting along in the night sky. Eventually he'll need to rest lest he burn himself out unexpectedly, but. For the moment, he's got this. He's fine. Nothing liable to make him lose his shit all of a sudden. He's good. )

(When he grows tired of it, perhaps they'll be sleepy enough, or perhaps they take out walking, it's not like she's particularly worried about their safety in freaking Etraya. What she is, though, is genuinely concerned about him, which is... Eh, perhaps strange, or maybe not so much.)

Okay, let's start simple. Who's Nate Grey?

( It’s a good but also somewhat complicated question? Given everything that comes with his existence and the so-called expectations surrounding it. The sound that leaves him is one that’s both amused yet lazy and he looks off ahead of them while he takes a second to mull that over. )

Well that depends which version you want. What I’ve been told, or what I’m trying to figure out.

(He has a point, and her chuckle is soft to go with it.)

How about we go with what you want to tell me?

( Slouching there, he glances over to her as he considers the way she phrases it now. He’s used to keeping a lot of his thoughts to himself when not having an emotional outburst unexpectedly. Everything that’s happened to him, everything he hopes and wishes for, everything that’s hurt him and left him feeling betrayed, he keeps so much of it to himself. There was a time he thought he could trust someone… still does? He doesn’t know with Thren anymore and she’d left him, again, before his coming here. Adding that to everything Sinister said and how she was meant to lure him in for the madman… it’s probably better he say nothing to anyone anymore. Keep to himself lest he deal with that sort of betrayal… that sort of heartbreak again.

Yet deep within him, he doesn’t want that. Deep within, he craves not just the bits and pieces of what it means to have as normal of a life one can get while being someone like them, he wants to feel part of something. Wants to find his place with others. Wants to feel like he has a home again. )

I’m someone everyone wants back home. Not like… ( At that, he blushes a bit and clears his throat. ) …for their battles. Their wars, I mean.

( Picking at the ends of his jacket, he looks down. )

Sinister made me in a lab. I wasn’t born. Not like… normal people are. I was made to fight Apocalypse since no one else could. So he used the DNA of Scott and Jean and cooked me up as some weapon of war. The memories I have are… confusing. Because I remember things that didn’t exist and it makes me wonder if anything I ever have is real or if it’s just in my head.

( Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighs. )

So… still figuring it out. Who Nate Grey is supposed to be other than the son of Cyclops and Jean Grey, made by Sinister to defeat Apocalypse. Cool as that sounds and all, I don’t want that to be who I am. I don’t want that to be what I leave here with. But I don’t really know what I want either. Not to be anyone’s weapon, I guess. Help people. Try another drink that isn’t beer. ( Heh. ) Find some place to fit in.

(She opened this can of worms, so he's going to have her full attention, her own pair of blue eyes watching him as he thinks, as he shares. Some of it, she can relate. She's not as powerful on her own as Nate or Quentin, hell, she's probably a smidge when it comes to them, but the Thousand-in-One? “Weapon XIV". Not that it panned out any, they're free from all that. Sophie never minded the clone thing, the weapon thing, life is what you make of it. Esme, well. Different story. For all that they talk about being a single unit, no individuality but instead a single entity, they do have some differences that are horribly contrasting.)

If it makes you any better, I'm the same for like, some of this. You're not totally alone.

(Not that anyone wants the Cuckoos that bad, but the origins? Oof.)

You have time to figure it all out, Nate. You're here, that's an opportunity, isn't it? Don't be bummed out, just try to find out who Nate Grey, who is the son of Cyclops and Jean, also is.

( But he doesn’t have time… a few years, max. Then his own powers will destroy him from the outside-in. There are moments when he’s seen it. His hair a bit longer, light pouring out from within him. Eyes and mouth on fire and him taking the world out with him when he just explodes.

He doesn’t say this. Doesn’t even look at her as he mulls it over and he tightly shuts those thoughts and fears of his away within his mind. He doesn’t think she’ll go prying, but. He also knows that sometimes, as a telepath, you just sort of pick up on things and feelings without even trying.

Instead, he forces a bit of a smile there on his lips and he looks over to her then, at the way she seems so comfortable and unafraid of lounging in a telekinetic bubble high within the sky. At the way she’s not afraid of him. )

Yeah. Guess that’s one plus in being trapped here, right?

(No, no, Nate. She would, she definitely would. She's not that great, you sweet Summers child. His luck is that he is talking to her, so she didn't really want to go prying, since she's trying to learn how to use her words and not her brain to engage in things. Apparently, that bugs people, who would have thunk.

He is correct, though. She's as comfortable here as she had been in her bed, or even more. The trust is there, and she's just enjoying it.)

... I guess.

(Maybe she can tell him a little bit. Maybe.)

My sisters and I are not... Very keen on the individuality thing. They've tried, but I was dead for that little deep dive. We had a fight before I got here, and we haven't spoken in a little while, but bible, I also have very little idea what I'm doing.

( This isn’t a bed by any means and so it lacks the sort of comfort that comes from a mattress and sheets, but. The bubble isn’t so uncomfortable that sitting or laying within it is signing up for a serious case of sore muscles after. Plus, it’s warm in a way that isn’t so intrusive because he makes it that way within his mind.

So he turns on his side then, facing Sophie, and tucks an arm under his head as a makeshift pillow, settling there against the warmth of the bubble while blue eyes search her face. Just her face, not her thoughts. )

What did you fight about?

(The hands resting on her stomach as she stares into nothingness raise, a gesture that tells him that she's taking a moment to think (breaking news) on how to put it easier, without making his brain work too hard.)

... We were up on some bullshit. The Five-in-One votes on every action we take, we're one entity, so... We decided on me being the one down making said bullshit happen, so my part was to be down moving some sticks and some people... Except, I ended up caring.

(Which, now looking back, maybe shit idea to send her. They hoped she wouldn't go superhero? Incorrect, when has Sophie ever not gone superhero?)

So, I couldn't go through it. I went no-contact, and cut off the hivemind, not too long ago. So, here we are, one fifth of a brain, with glitchy powers, because my brain really took a whammy, and they're not... Here.

( He listens — lets her say what she needs or wants to regarding the fight and just lays there in the bubble next to her. Well. There’s some distance between them and all, but. The point is he remains silent, cheek pressed to his arm and tries to imagine rather than dig into her mind how it must feel to be connected within a hivemind like that. To… be only a part of yourself, in a sense. It’s strange to think about and has him looking to her in a way that is both soft and sympathetic. )

There’s nothing wrong with caring.

( He says then, blue eyes on her. )

But I’m sorry you have to feel the way you do now for caring.

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