Hey, teacher, leave them kids alone

[strikefirster]

Who: Johnny, Daniel, Ortus, Gideon Nav's Exquisite Corpse, Paul, Kaworu, Deku, Harrow, Maybe more?
What: Kidnapping, Forced Adoption, Getting these kids away from the Emperor
When: Shortly after boatgate
Where: The Bone House and Cobra Kai

Content Warnings: Probably references to Murder, Manipulation, Johnny Lawrence.

Prompts and Mingle will be in the comments.

Comments

[terriblepurpose]

[ Sophia grooms Big Boy's mane in answer, with a warm draping of solicitousness transmitted through the ephemeral connection of Omens. She knows about having a frightened Sleeper, held apart and away from themselves, and whatever suffices as her heart bruises for her fellow Omen and that laughing, golden-eyed girl.

If she has more to say, it's cut short by Big Boy nosing into a dusty backroom, where the body of Sophia's Sleeper stretches out his arms and blinks as the right soul surfaces behind the right eyes. He is fuzzy with absence, and so doesn't question the apparition of this unknown Omen until Sophia flickers a call to attention to him, as she often does. ]

Hello. [ His voice is scratchy as he sits up, rubbing at cheek creased with red lines of pressure. ] You're Gideon's, aren't you?

[lipochrome]

[ Oh! There he is! Sophia might recognize the emotion Big Boy radiates as similar to Gideon when she wins a fighting match, mixed with relief. They found him! He seems relatively healthy, too, as far as Big Boy can tell these things. He does ask phenomenally dumb questions, though, but Big Boy assumes that's common to all Sleepers.

Big Boy gentle nuzzles the top of his head in the way that Gideon sometimes musses his hair, a wordless yes.

It takes her a little longer to remember how humans work. Big Boy has to come down off the high of victory, first. Once the Sleeper is adequately greeted, she asks: ] Can you stand? I can help.

[terriblepurpose]

[ Paul has always loved horses. This small one is no exception. He leans into her nuzzle with eyes that half-lid again, letting out a warm huff of breath not unlike a horse himself as he runs a hand down her arched neck. ]

Aren't you something?

[ She's a well-turned mare, to his appraisal, which does not linger on the rough, shadowy patches that are not quite whole. He loops an arm around her as he levers up to his feet, a wordless yes of his own. ]

You came looking for me. [ Like she said, he thinks, and is not sure why. ] I'm all right. But - thank you.