Hannibal's house, Sunday

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal set the large glass of home-brewed dark ale on the end table, along with the tiny pork pies and pickle and the remote control for the music system.

And, because he could surf Google and iTunes as well as anyone, and it never paid to be too predictable, he was playing (not too loudly) Opeth.

He was even wearing a comfortable sweater and slacks instead of a suit. He was picking his battles today, and his battle was how greasy not to make fish and potatoes! Since they'd been so rudely interrupted by eels earlier.


[OOC: Waiting on one, but totally open!]

[OOC the second: Specifics of Jono's story NFB, please!]

Comments

[sharp_as_knives]

"What was their purpose?" Hannibal asked. "Were they supposed to be policing mutants?"

[furnaceface]

//On the surface, that's what they wanted it to look like,// Jono replied, brow furrowing. //But no. That was a convenient cover for an organization that monitored and eliminated us. There was experimentation on living subjects. There were death camps. They didn't like Sublime in the picture because he was competition in the arms race for useful body parts.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal nodded. "So they did their best to convince you of their stated cause. To keep you on their side. What then?"

[furnaceface]

//Then I found the 'Paths.// Jonothon needed to take a moment, to close his eyes and run a hand through his hair, to try and fail to suppress a shudder. //Telepaths. A room full of telepathic mutants with half their bodies carved away, all plugged in like human batteries to be put to whatever use the Program saw fit. Most obviously, keeping the Program's location shielded from anybody who might be looking for it.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"Were they being controlled, or deceived as they'd tried with you? Or were some of them willing participants?"

Hannibal couldn't miss that shudder, and kept his hand on Jono's cheek, stroking it as he held him close.

[furnaceface]

Jono curled up a little closer, eyes still closed.

//I can't imagine any of them volunteered to be cut in two and hooked up to a giant machine,// he replied, his voice sounding a little more hollow than usual. //They had no choice, no say in the matter. Their powers were being channeled by something bigger than they were, and all they could do was... exist, dragged along for the ride.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"What did you do?" Hannibal asked. He kept his voice even, his arm wrapped around Jono.

[furnaceface]

//I... made do,// Jono replied. //They showed me a glimpse of what the Program was actually up to, and gave me a tip about a transport that was going to be carrying a load of mutants to the camp. I stowed aboard. Called Logan while I did so, sent him coordinates. It was as close to a break as we were going to get, I had to take it.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"Not ideal, but perhaps the best you could have done then," Hannibal said. He could think of several other possibilities himself, but he wasn't a traumatized young Jono being put on the spot, and there were undoubtedly things he didn't know about the situation, either.

[furnaceface]

//I would've done a lot of things differently, if I could go back and do it now,// Jono admitted, shaking his head a little. //I don't know that it would've turned out any better if I had. They found me, not long after we'd landed in Neverland. I'd gotten a good eyeful of what was going on by that point. I'd found what was left of people I knew there. Adults, children, didn't matter.//

He was practically burying his face in Hannibal's shoulder, now. He'd never talked it out like this before. Karla had seen it once, in his head, while he was sitting in a broken heap on his bathroom floor. But just sitting down and speaking about it?

Never.

//They grabbed me and wiped me clean. Easy job for one of the mutants they had recruited to give me a functional set of false memories to tide me over until the 'Paths could be used to make it more permanent. Set me to work clearing out the camp with the others before the X-Men could show up. We were gone by morning. Anyone who couldn't be harvested or put to any decent sort of use for the program was burned or buried.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal leaned his head on Jono's and stroked his hair. "Who did you think you were?"

[furnaceface]

//I thought I was theirs,// he murmured. //I never knew the X-Men, or Fandom. I grew up loathing everything that my family's vision of mutantkind represented. Wasn't much of a stretch, really. The Starsmores were one generation removed from an insane bloody mutant cult, and I'd been considered the family flatscan up until I manifested, almost eighteen years old. From there I figured I'd just do whatever suited me best. The Program offered me something better than life in the Morlock tunnels, and I took it. All I had to do was kill whoever they wanted me to kill, whenever they wanted me to kill them. Whether that happened to be children in a mutant death camp or John bloody Sublime, over and over and over again, so be it. I was good at it. I was proud of it.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"They gave you a place you belonged, and a reason to find yourself there," Hannibal murmured. "Your own mind would do the rest - faced with memories it perceived as positive, your subconscious would reinforce them on its own."

[furnaceface]

Jono nodded. He was clinging now, and barely even aware of that fact.

//And Logan was the only one who ever came looking,// he murmured. //I don't want to think that the rest gave me up for dead, but if it had been anybody else wearing an X, they would've torn reality apart to find them. Logan's the only one. Cornered me after I put Sublime down for the dozenth time. I dared him to put a set of claws through my skull, and then left him in a smouldering heap on the ground when he hesitated.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Another several questions that Hannibal would have to ask later. "How long was it before he found you?"

[furnaceface]

//Months, I think,// Jono replied. //It's hard to separate when I actually joined from when I thought I joined, by that point. He didn't see me again after that. I took off to do more of Jackson's dirty work, and then he staged a coup and took control over other parts of the Program, it turned into a bit of an all-out war between the different factions of us. That stopped quickly, at least. Most of the mutants on the planet lost their powers all at once, and there wasn't a hell of a lot of use for the Program, after that.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"Who was Jackson? What did he want?" Hannibal asked.

[furnaceface]

//Jackson's the one who recruited me,// Jono explained. //Talked me out of the prison cell and into the program. He wasn't the director at that point, though. That was one Malcom Colcord. Jackson wanted power, really. Seemed like a step up from Colcord, who wanted every mutant dead. I went with Jackson, when all hell broke loose. But then, that's probably because even if we were driven off, Jackson still had the loyalty of mutant who had wiped my mind in the first place. I would've followed him into the mouth of hell, by that point.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal nodded. "So, the program began breaking apart, fighting each other. And then?"

[furnaceface]

//Then millions of mutants worldwide were pared down to hundreds. Everyone lost their powers, was reduced to baseline human. Jackson's mind-wiper was one of them. I was another one. I remember... fighting. And then everything went quiet, both on the battlefield and in my head. My telepathy was gone. My flames were gone. And without it, the enhancements the program gave to me overloaded and blew my chest out all over again. I've got no bloody clue how I'm still alive. Woke up in a hospital bed in London, months later. It was... grisly. Grisly's a good word for it.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal slid his hand down Jono's chest, resting it there. "So you were back to where you'd started, but without your flames. You had your original memories again?"

[furnaceface]

Jonothon nodded, keeping his eyes closed. He was aware of Hannibal's hand resting over the fire, even if he couldn't feel anything.

It was nice, that fearlessness. Reassuring.

//All jumbled up with the other ones. I knew who I was, though. I could pick out one from the other. Easy to tell where the fiction became fact again. I only have one set of memories of everything from Neverland onward.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"And this hospital you were in - that was where the people found you that made you...blue?" Jono had mentioned that much of the story before. Unless there was more than one time he'd ended up depowered and in a London hospital.

Which, given his history, Hannibal probably shouldn't rule out.

[furnaceface]

//That's right,// Jono replied. //Kidnapped from my bed by a man claiming to be my psychiatrist. No doubt I needed one by that point. Would've been nice if he actually had been, I suppose.//

Ish. Jono hadn't been particularly cooperative, and it wasn't like you could do much bonding during therapy sessions when all you had was a button for yes and a button for no.

[sharp_as_knives]

"Better late than never?" Hannibal teased gently. "And I come with very good beer and pork pies, if you like."

They hadn't gotten to the other instance yet, but Hannibal had a suspicion Jono needed a break.