"She tried her best to keep me away from what she was," he said, the smile fading slightly. "Even to the point where she didn't want me doing magic unless I absolutely had to, so I wouldn't draw as much attention from her enemies."
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Tessa blinked, frowning. "From the standpoint of a child, that sucks. But from someone constantly hunted down for using magic…it makes sense," she said slowly, rolling onto her stomach and resting her head on her arms. Her eyes were trained on nothing in particular.
"It makes even more sense when you think about how unique my magic is. She always told me I had infinite potential." He rubbed his nose on his right forearm. "Now I understand what she means by that."
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Tessa hummed in acknowledgement, not sure what to say about that. By now, she was used to all sorts of magic, but even Cinthia and the others had limits. Looking at Runner, it was hard for her to see any sort of unlimited power coursing through his veins, let alone the blood of Rhianon.
He glanced over at her and grinned slightly and her disbelieving look. "I take after my dad a bit more than Mom would like. From what I heard, he wasn't that bad of a sorcerer, either. One of the reasons why Mom loved him so much."
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Tessa hummed again, reaching out in front of her and turning her arm over to look at the multiple scarred slashes. The jealously had shaped into nothingness, as what usually happened when people talked about their families.
"I'm boring you with all of this, aren't I?" he asked, returning his gaze to the sky.
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"No," she said, tucking her arm back under her chin. "It's nice to listen for a change. I usually never shut up."
"Well, why not tell me a little about you past?" he asked, rolling onto his side to face her. "I've been blabbing on for half an hour now."
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"If you think that's a lot, then you're in for a surprise if that's the topic you want me to talk about," Tessa said with a huff of laughter, idly drawing a random pattern into the loose dirt.
He shrugged, rubbing his nose once again. "I've always been more of a listener than a talker."
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((I hope your sweet sixteen was better than mine))
She hummed and considered the pros and cons, then came up nearly empty for the cons. "Okay, then prepare for a sob story like no other," she said with a snort. She pushed herself up to a sitting position and tucked her legs beneath her as she tilted her head up towards the sky, staring directly at the sun. Her pupils turned to vertical slits in response to the direct sunlight.
"I've never met my parents until very recently, and even then it's been…It's been rough. My father is a complete dick, and my mother pretty much bows to my every whim to make me like her. I've got three siblings, but I only really know one. The other hates my very being, and the last one is oblivious to every wrong I've done." She rubbed at her caved in cheekbone as she continued. "Foster care will do that to some people, especially if you've been in it from birth for 16 years."
(Guys don't have sweet 16s)
All Runner could really come up with was, "Hm." I mean, what else was he supposed to say? He isn't a psychiatrist, and he couldn't relate to anything she had said. Sure, him and his mom were separated for 8 years, but without any memory of it, it doesn't really affect him the way it would for anyone else.
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((Ah, right. Well, happy birthday, whenever that was))
She flicked her gaze over at him with a quirked lip, more amused with his lack of a response than anything. "I told you we'd be here for a while, did I not?" she said. "Anyway, long and complicated story cut short, I was in 20 different homes by the time I was 16, and most of those years were spent on the streets."
(June 28, and the same to you!)
He winced sympathetically, rubbing the back of his neck. "I never thought my life was particularly hard, but your's makes it seem like I lived in a fucking mansion."
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((May 23, and thanks!))
She snorted. "That's not even the worst part," she said cryptically with a shrug. "Street rats tend to have it the hardest, especially ones that don't particularly belong, or have some issues," she added while spiraling a finger around her temple.
"Oh, God," Runner said, rolling his eyes. "Now you're making me feel normal."
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She grinned, then looked back up at the sun. "The basic details are this: I and a few other shifters were taken off the street to be used as lab rats. Illegal underground labs were experimenting on us for the development of drugs. If you fought, you were 'house broken'," she put air quotes around the two words, "while being made an example of in front of the other children. I fought every chance I got. The constant testing is why I can't take any medicine."
"Well…..shit." Once again, he had no clue what to say in response. "I'm…..sorry, I guess?"
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She shrugged nonchalantly. "I've gotten over it by now. What's done is done. I became a killer and hunted down those bastards to teach them a lesson." She looked at her scarred arms again. "That was my sole purpose in life for a while. Fate, it would seem, is even more stubborn than I am, and wouldn't let me go. So I became a weapon for hire and took jobs that would make them fear my name—fear the once helpless girl they tormented for years."
"What brought you to that cargo container?" he asked randomly, thinking back to the first time they met. "Were you on a job?"
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She tilted her head and thought about it. "Yeah, I was. One of the containers were shipping prototype drugs for an investment."
"Did you look up the crew before going?" he asked, biting the inside of his cheek. "Was I supposed to be on it?"
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"No," she said automatically, "You weren't. You were a surprise I wasn't prepared for," she admitted with a shrug, glancing over at Runner.
He let out a sigh, scrunching up his nose in frustration. "There has to be a reason why I was there. Where was it going?"
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"Costa Rica," she said, searching through her memory while he asked his questions. "I have no clue what the original purpose of the cargo ship's being there was, but I do know that there was a man wanting to invest in the drugs there."
"Is there anything going on in Costa Rica? A large pulse of magical energy? A powerful demon fucking stuff up?"
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"I dunno, Cin didn't say anything," Tessa said, curling her nose as she tried to think about it. "We could always check it out real quick to see, because I kinda blew the ship up before it could get there."
"Do we have enough time?" he asked, tilting his head. "Mom seems to want this whole world-saving thing to happen as soon as possible."
