#mindcaterol

[jordli]

TEGANNNN, i'm soooo interested to hear about your interpretation of the relationship between jordan & each of their forms! like what pushes them to choose one or the other in a situation, certain aspects of each that they might like better or not as much, how the outside perspective of others plays a role in it all?? just literally anything you wanna talk about !!!

oooooo, now this is some good soup. thank you for asking this because it's an excellent question, and i'm so excited to delve in!

in terms of their day-to-day life, their presenting form really depends on their feelings/emotions. one second, they could feel more masculine and be in their masculine form; another second, they could feel more feminine and decide to shift. it really just depends on their personal vibes. although, i can definitely see them in a club using their feminine form for free drinks. or using their masculine form to try and get a point across/having that extra intimidation factor. (lmao.)

i do think jordan has a slight resentment towards both their forms, but i mean that in the most minor of ways. from what we've seen in the show, certain elements of their powers don't carry over. masculine jordan is unable to produce their energy blasts like their feminine self > feminine jordan doesn't have the same fast agility as masculine jordan. while more of the other core supe mechanisms do stick [their strength, their fast healing, etceterea], i can definitely see some slight disdain towards having to shift in the midst of combat. but we also know they panic if they're unable to shift too!

i do think it's worth noting, for years jordan did have a self-resentment towards themself. growing up with their parents being unaccepting of their gender identity/power, that takes a toll on someone (especially a child) and as we've been brought to believe— it was brink who really helped them learn that it's okay? so, it really wasn't until they were eighteen/nineteen years old when they started to really accept themselves.

outside perspective can definitely play a part in how they present themself, especially in terms of their parents and vought. as we've been shown, jordan's parents aren't very accepting of their powers (and how their "primary power" has bled into their gender identity as well). usually, they'll be in their masculine form for their visits, just to avoid the conflict that'll usually arise otherwise. vought are definitely on that same level as well— in their minds, they have an image to uphold as well. while jordan might be able to knock them up a few points with a younger + diverse demographic, they'll never be anything more than just a few points on the board for them. vought's brownie points if you will. while they may present themselves in their masculine form at a meeting with vought, jordan isn't stupid either, and will usually shift. just to test the waters. (and can very clearly see the usual bewilderment on their faces.)

[sgrspiced-a]

@mindcaterol : 🙶 wait a minute, let me finish . 🙷

' W H Y ? '

one hand stays on the door while the other takes a kind of DEFENSIVE POSITION, half-up and half-hearted. b r e a t h e, ale , it's just a fucking spider.

' finish w h a t ? explaining why you've got a creepy crawlie in some makeup runnin' around your damn dorm ? ' alejandra does take a breath this time, jumping against the door momentarily when the thing moves. fuck, her snake's way cuter than this, ' what happened to normalcy, dunlap? is nothing sacred? '

[00078292]

@mindcaterol:   you don't know what i can do.

the built-up static that clouded your mind was far friendlier than what you had become accustomed too;    still you can’t remember the last time the edges of your vision didn’t blur,   reality and fiction colliding in a picturesque explosion before your very eyes as if interlocked,   it bled into your truth and you didn’t know what was real.    out of the woods,   you were almost scared of what it could conjure up,    what it could make idle hands do [the red is as murky as days gone by;   yesterday you swore you bled confetti].    through the fog,    you could see her,    feel her rattling around inside luke’s mind like you were one and the same.    emma said to trust her,  but you were shaky bones and scarred knuckles,   trust did not let itself make a home inside your bed often,   instead sewn thoughts of doubt and danger,   like fifty alarm bells all urging you to run.    so you let it go.   mind clamours to escape the shackles of its own making,   easier to clench your fists until palms bleed than teeth breaking from biting down on themselves.    luke had trusted cate too,   hadn't he?    he trusted her and he forgot about you,   the fire that surged above ground must reflect below;  the woods had never been so cold as the day he flew.   

“—what?”     broke through the silence you had been stewing in,   almost grateful for the break from your own thoughts before you drowned in them.   the room came into focus as you lift your head,   catching her eye before it bows again.    mulled over each word,   dissecting it.    𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚍𝚘.    you didn’t,   you didn’t know her,   not the way the others seemed to so quickly welcome her back,   forgive old sins in part for a hopeful victory on the horizon.      “don’t think i want to know.    doesn’t seem to go well when people do.”    a tinge of a smile,   you didn’t know how to make jokes real people would laugh at,    but you tried,   like an outstretched hand of forgiveness that you weren’t ready to voice.

[goldstrikes-archive]

HMMMMMM,      -   @mindcaterol​

i see a vision,   I WANT THE VISION 👀👀😌,   way/cate arc when???

[midruin]

❝  you take things so hard  ❞

surprise , follows confusion. he isn't one to induce conversation in people - especially women. his size, his stoicism : it gives off mentally ill & most times : dangerous. he hears the crinkling of paper, breaking through the static in his ears. THE B GRADE PAPER IS DESTROYED IN HIS LARGE HANDS. crumbled and weak against the grip of a man without remorse. he has the forethought to appear sheepish : less dangerous men always appear weak of mind & common sense. "it's the way i've always been." unwilling to say more, he takes a moment to look at she who dares intrude upon solace and layered grief wrapped in expensive wool & silk. a prince swaddled in protection against prying eyes & curious stares.

he is a black monolith amongst most of his peers. her petite blonde figure juxtaposes his own with such striking contrast that he feels almost off balance by her demeanor. a small voice that stays just above the static roar in his head reminds him that silence is considered rude & step one to appearing fine , is to appear socially ept : a contradictory role to his natural instincts. "sorry to disturb your peace." a genuine attempt to exist in the world among others , feels disturbingly strange. the apology doesn't hit quite right when he hears it aloud but to fix it now would only serve to further cement his lack of practice in existing among peers.

[nonsupe]

" they have you wrapped up tight, don't they? " one attack dog to another, he knows the type. wounds behind the eyes and the ready stance to strike. indira's had her hands in this one too long, pulling strings so tight they've begun to fray under the strain. there's sympathy in tone, a delicate approach when he'd come to her. given the circumstances, he would be stupid not to tread lightly.

they've met a few times in the past, but he's not too sure that she remembers exactly: the man indira whispered to in the shadows, introduced them once and only contacted him when it was necessary that he be there. a contracted cleaner, a web-spinner. but he was a different man back then, under a guise that he'd been doing the right thing. now he knows better.

@mindcaterol is just a kid. so young and already looks as if she's lived too many horrific events, those wounds behind her eyes have been carved deep into her being. what have you seen? what did she ask of you?

it never changes. they always have someone getting their hands dirty and this time they've chosen her. he won't let them destroy her as they've destroyed him. " you're safe now. everything is going to be okay. " ♡

[nuivence]

“i never wanted this, jordan.” — @mindcaterol

it bites onto them; leeching onto their skin and sucking their blood, a blast of disappointment had been jolting through their body and it has only felt stronger and deeper now that those words have come out of her mouth. eyes dart from the floor onto hers; bloodshot and wrenching with ache so raw it almost radiates from her small body. it’s like the stench from down the street of a fish market. it was nauseating being around her and all the pain she exuded, and all the death she had a hand in creating.

the lies she told play back in their head over and over like a glitch and nothing is visible anymore except guilt on cate’s part, and intense (albeit, simmering) remnants of resentment on jordan's. 

“what marie said,” now their gaze is broken, jordan can only feel cate’s eyes on them as they walk forward. “she's right. it’s gonna take a while for you to earn it back, cate.

a fucking while.”

[engin3er]

" your ts are starting to look like xs. try to keep them straighter. " cate's slanting letterwork sits amidst the tangle of her own neat, almost robotically so, script. equations bleeding in every direction. thoughts layered upon thoughts, half-heartedly scrubbed from the surface of the board. stains she referenced too often to mourn beyond what irritation they'd undoubtedly inspired from her capitol peers. theirs was a different dialect of waste.

melanie deposits an orange pilfered from the game.maker's banquet on the desk, beside the lettering. settles into the open chair beside her to more closely inspect the writing.

@mindcaterol <3

[vdosed]

hehe 🫶🫶🫶🫶

oh she doesn’t stand a chance I fear

[nighthire-a]

" are you okay ? " / @mindcaterol

[jordli]

@mindcaterol ╱ i don't know what i was supposed to do.

neither did they— not as luke bellowed at professor brink. the what ifs play on a repeat in their mind, consuming their every last thought over the previous twenty-four hours. it's why as the blonde slides into the opposite side of the booth from them, jordan narrows their eyes— already on the attack. “listening to my thoughts, or just trying to make conversation? you're going to have to work a lot harder than that.” head dropping down, their gaze falters to the vought-a-burger table— ignorance of their burger and loss of appetite becoming clear. they don't trust her— not anymore. [is it a stranger or friend sitting across from them? it's an unclear answer, but they'll never know if they don't speak.] features contorting to showcase their apathy, they exhale a deep breath and look back up. “you know what— don't tell me, cate. i don't even want to know.”

maybe it's the easiest way to the end conversation, or maybe it's because they're sick of looking at cate's cerulean, yet bloodshot, eyes reeking of a lack of sleep. [there's also the voice in the back of their head screaming: I REFUSE TO BE A COWARD. NOT ANYMORE.] but, jordan sighs heavily and decides to indulge.

“what happened then doesn't fucking matter anymore. what matters now is what we're going to do about it, alright? attaining atonement, or whatever the fuck they say.”

[sgrspiced-a]

@mindcaterol : ❛ i just wanted to protect you . ❜

a bark of laughter . mean, angry, incredulous .

' protect me ? ' their tone is sharp, dripping with p o i s o n . in their brain cate deserves this right now, for fucking with their mind and their agency and not even having the decency to wipe the | shitty, embarrassing | stuff too.

and then for making them relive it all again, as if the first time wasn't enough. ' cate, i - ' a pause. one deep, shaky, full - body breath to calm themselves and push down the tears pricking their eyes. their heart twists when they look at her, it's difficult to even be mad when she looks like a [ kicked puppy ].

' how is this any better than if you had just told us ? i want to forgive you, i just - FUCK, cate , you're making it real hard - '

[qwannon]

everyone lies a little. i lie. / @mindcaterol.

❛  yet you haven't shielded your mind from me once. ❜ from one psionic to another, thoughts can reveal true intentions and are overwhelming loud unless you know how to turn them off, and the elder chooses not to listen to hers mainly to dissuade a preemptive headache... but if cate were to ask, she'd say out of respect. you know, just a little lie. ❛  people who do what's right never fear the truth... ❜ subjective. though it inquisitively makes her wonder what sort of truths the blonde feared to camouflage them under a lie.

kwannon inches inward with the intent to pull back the curtain a little, to look beyond the window of her eyes and into the canvas of her judgement. her tone crosses evenly. ❛  are you still afraid ? ❜

[goldstrikes-archive]

↪    𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓  : dire situations .     currently accepting, expect slow to respond.

can you see how many fingers i’m holding up ? — from @mindcaterol

" THREE. " despite being said with confidence, the answer was wrong: it was four... 𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚛. pinching the bridge of his nose to stop the oncoming headache building behind his eyes, a trickle of blood slowly forms from one ear and down his neck– a sonic blast having taken waylon and his golden spear, right out of the air. aforementioned weapon, now laying as a pile of scattered 𝚐𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚞𝚜𝚝 somewhere to his left. " shit, that fucking hurt. "

[00078292]

it’s shame that suddenly roots itself inside your chest;   you were in an escapable cage all those years,   lock and key did little to stop your escape but time and time again you remained,  stagnant.      [𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎,   𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏]    tricked you into believing it was a cage of your own making.     wounds will never vanish and so you assume the role that they gave you [feared the storms of rage conjured in your bloodied fists,  feared the images that danced before your eyes; wide open] let yourself become the dog they feared,   they would not confuse your snarl with a smile.     there is an apology that works its way up your oesophagus,   the ignominy that you would remain; let them poke and prod and create something that would wipe you out for good.    but cate agrees,   allows you to join,   to share in the destruction that would be created.   the codes only go so far,   you were sure she knew where this would end.

you had no trouble staring,  watching as the blood seeps into the baseboards;   let the wood rot beneath,  come maggots,   come flies.   you thought it only deserving,  an instigator to the damage still coursing through your bones,   the phantom ache that still exists in every inch of you.    you nod.     “i’ll do it.”      you'll get rid of her, for good. ever the willing solider,   immovable force.    your own brutality did not scare you,   all sense of shame washed away at the mere suggestion that this was not your fault—      humans did this to you,  locked you away and threw away the key.     you should hate cate too,    you almost think,   brushed away with the reminder that shetty’s claws were sharper than yours.   fell victim to her words also,   the subtle reassurance of someone who twisted language to make you believe that she cared;   a forced hand on her shoulder,    a whisper to keep the monster inside.

the people left in the woods were your friends—[could you call them that? brief encounters,  but they were all you had left,   victims who could not defend themselves behind steel doors]     now,   the perpetrator of their suffering lay dead.    not all wounds will gush blood,   her violence took form of words and ignorance.     they should get to see it, too,   you think.    see for themselves that there was an end to the woods;    painted walls meant to be inviting in fact a home to the horrors,   a reminder of the depths they would sink to to keep their world spinning. 

    “do you think—”    you hesitate,   as if she couldn’t pull the thoughts from your mind without accord;    you remind yourself a gloved hand could be just as lethal,   timid in movements holding the darkness beneath.     as if for an eternity,   you pull your eyes from the blood,   you wait in case she answers before you get a chance:   there is so much about cate you do not know,   the lengths she would go   [𝚊 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚞𝚔𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑,   𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜].     “she deserved it,   cate,   they all do.    but i don’t—      i don’t know what to do.”    with her.   you left your anguish in your wake:    you were the mess,   not the cleanup crew.    

TENSED FOR A FIGHT, AN ARGUMENT, similar to his brother in that way, how quickly he results to raising his fists. a trait you might've developed, if only your punches landed just a little bit harder. of course, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜, any following thoughts wiped by the onslaught of utter surprise. ❝ you (...) you know the codes? & you just stayed there? ❞ could nearly swallow your tongue at the hypocrisy of that one. were you not fully aware in your own gilded cage? ready to crawl inside their heads just to comfortably remain there.

why wouldn't he do the same? ❝ hey, no more arguments from me. you can get us in that easy? you're definitely coming. ❞ the hunger for retribution, it's consuming him. who are you to stand in the way of his wrath? not after you've taken hold of your own. FELT THE RUSH OF TRUE POWER FOLLOWING YEARS OF INABILITY. he should know what that's like. to feel them flattening beneath his thumb, he deserves that after everything they've done to him. 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚂𝙸𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙽𝙴𝚂𝚂𝙴𝙳 — who knows what other kind of [ fucked up ] shit they were doing behind those armored doors? the monsters they are. none of it could really surprise you at this point. not even if they were to come drag you down there to join the others. endless in their fear.

❝ if we plan on bringing them back here we're gonna have to take care of. . . her. ❞ still having trouble letting your eyes fall to that corner of the room. she loved you, cate. but she was going to kill you. that much you're sure of. she wanted you all gone, razed from the earth like you were never even there to begin with.

[h0bbs]

stop , what the hell are you talking about ?

there are lines to not step over,   some places you can't return from.   here you have little to no respect,   what good is a supe who almost let her father slice her neck?   what good is a supe accused of helping him do it to other girls?   but you don't care right now,   not when your heart pounds in your chest whenever you're around...   them.   you should be quiet,   stay silent   &   go along with college until you're out,   until you're free to be someone other than   (   ___   ).   " i'm telling you. "

@mindcaterol is perfect,   she's beautiful,   &   she's never had to speak to you,   why would she?   &   why wouldn't she be weary now?   on top of the fear you already feel at unhealthy amounts inside her.

" you   &   your friends are... "   your voices trails off,   caught physically in your throat before you forcibly swallow it down.   " you're anxious,   &   scared.   there's something wrong   &   i just... "   you're not trying to bond,   you're not trying to connect,   but the feeling is making you sick-   to your stomach.   " should i be scared too? "