Poem: How Are You Feeling?
By shiori_makiba / Ashley Weyer
Another installment of the Tsubasa Inoue story in the Berettaflies storyline. For other pieces in this thread as well as other interesting citizens of Terramagne, check out ysabetwordsmith's Polychrome Heroics page (
http://penultimateproductions.weebly.com/polychrome-heroics.html) or her page here on DW (
http://ysabetwordsmith.dreamwidth.org/).
As always, comments and constructive criticism is welcomed.
“How Are You Feeling?”
People kept asking how she was feeling.
Tsubasa didn't know how to answer that question exactly.
It kinda depended on what they meant
by how was she feeling.
Or who was doing the asking.
Some of those asking were her friends and family.
Them, she answered and tried to answer honestly.
But sometimes the answer was “I don't know.”
Some of those asking were strangers.
People, in and out of the hospital for one reason or another, saw the wings and asked.
At least the ones who didn't become mean
as soon as they saw the wings did.
Some of them seemed genuinely concerned
in that being-decent-to-hurt-strangers way.
Others seemed like they only asked because it was expected
and weren't interested one way or another.
She had seen more of the former than the latter
since being moved to another facility.
She had agreed to the move.
It was better equipped for dealing with superpowers than a regular hospital.
None of her powers had proved dangerous so far
but they weren't sure if she was done flickering yet.
“Sometimes even fully manifested superpowers can lurk in the background,”
Mint had explained.
Mint was her liaison and a therapist,
a soup with hair, skin, and eyes as green as her name suggested.
She seemed nice and helpful
but she was still one more stranger in the long parade of them since the incident.
'They are only trying to help,' Tsubasa reminded herself. 'Try to be patient.'
It was hard.
She had barely had any time to herself since this whole mess started.
That and the near-constant stream of new and unfamiliar people to deal with
was fraying her nerves.
Even her friends and family, as much as she loved them,
were starting to grate.
She knew why they were being so clingy.
It was understandable.
She'd be the same way if it was one of them in her place.
That made it easier to be patient with them.
Still, she was very close to being peopled-out.
Tsubasa tried to communicate that fact.
And to be fair, most of them seemed to accept that and leave.
But the empty space they left behind
never seemed to stay empty for long enough.
That wasn't the only reason she was feeling irritable.
It was a big one but not the only one.
The other was that she didn't feel exactly clean.
She washed but sinks and sponges were no substitute
for a nice hot shower or soaking in the furo.
But butterfly wings didn't like getting soaked.
Otherwise, physically, she felt fine.
She wasn't dead and didn't seem to be dying.
She wasn't in pain or paralyzed or suffering from major organ damage.
That was more than a lot of people caught in this mess had gotten.
The wings still felt a little weird but they were getting less weird everyday.
It was becoming easier to accommodate their weight,
the space they took up, and how they moved.
They felt almost normal.
Like they had always been there.
That was good.
It must be unspeakably awful if any part of your own body felt so terrible
and unnatural that you'd do almost anything to get rid of it.
The ultraviolet eyesight was still a little disorientating.
It had stabilized, no longer switching on and off.
But nothing looked the same anymore.
And that was taking more getting used to than big butterfly wings.
On the other hand, her sketch-pads had never been busier.
Trying to capture that shimmer of invisible to many color was a challenge
but one that held a lot of appeal.
She wondered if there was a market for artwork that make the invisible visible.
Or contained hidden surprises for those who could see it.
Something to add to the lists.
The “You Have Superpowers – Now What?” pamphlet had recommended making lists.
A list of what your powers were.
A list of what you could you do with your powers.
And a list of what you would do with your powers.
The lists were just for you.
A way to make to this whole thing less overwhelming.
And a way to see other options for using your powers
than being a white cape or a black cape.
If by how are you feeling, they meant how are feeling emotionally?
The answer, most of the time, was confused and overwhelmed.
The overwhelmed was because all of the changes were sudden.
And they just kept coming.
The confused was because her feelings were such a tangled mess of mixed emotions.
Unraveling it was slow-going.
Because that took energy that several times since the incident she just didn't have.
What little energy she had was focused on other things.
“You need to express what you are feeling,” Mint warned.
“It isn't healthy for anyone to bottle. It really isn't healthy for new soups.”
Tsubasa knew Mint was right.
But most people wanted words for that.
And words didn't come easy to her.
They just weren't the fine instruments in her hands like they were in Mama's.
Or like they were becoming in Mai's.
She was like Keisuke and Papa.
Forever struggling not only to find the words but the right words.
And most of the time not quite succeeding.
“I'm not good at talking,” Tsubasa confessed.
“So don't talk if you don't want to,” Mint said.
She gestured to the stack of art supplies that had been in the We Care package.
“You're an artist. Why don't you try drawing it out?”
“I can do that?”
“Sure. People sometimes find things easier to express difficult things in pictures.”
“I'll give it a try.”
“That's all I ask. Would you rather be alone or do you want company?”
“Alone.”
“Okay. Then I will see you later.”
She waited until Mint had completely left the room to pick up a fresh sketch-pad.
Pencil in hand, Tsubasa started to draw.
NOTES:
Furo – A Japanese style bath. They are made for soaking in, not washing. You do all of your scrubbing of your body and hair, then rinse off completely BEFORE getting into the furo. (
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Furo)
MINT (CHLOE JACKSON) – Mint is a therapist from the whatever works school of therapy – if it doesn't cause further harm to her patient or others, then she's willing to try it. This is handy since most of her clients are soups. This flexibility is also why she does liaison work for SPOON.
Physical Description: Mint, as her name suggests, is green. Originally she had skin the color of mocha latte, heavy on the mocha, with curly black hair and very dark brown eyes. Now her skin is a bright grass green, her hair is still curly but forest green, and her eyes are mint green. Her prefer clothing is business casual in colors that contrast well with all the green. Jewelry is eclectic as she has a taste for funky hand-made pieces. She is tall at 5 feet 10 inches, with a small bust but generous hips.
Origin: The onset of puberty start turning her green and within a couple of years, she was all green.
Qualities: Master (+6) Therapist, Expert (+4) Flexibility, Good (+2) Self-Confidence, Poor (-2) Tiny Green Rage Monster When Angered
Powers: Average (0) Crayon Coloration
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thnidu during the July 2016 Thank Muse It's Friday session.
