Now there are two kinds of hardening, one of the understanding, the
other of the sense of shame, when a man is resolved not to assent to what
is manifest nor to desist from contradictions. Most of us are afraid of
mortification of the body, and would contrive all means to avoid such a
thing, but we care not about the soul's mortification. And indeed with
regard to the soul, if a man be in such a state as not to apprehend
anything, or understand at all, we think that he is in a bad condition: but
if the sense of shame and modesty are deadened, this we call even power.
The Discourses of Epictetus
"Look, Scott isn't here."
Taryn sighed. "Look, um, Rogue, is it? A question. Do you normally lie this badly, or just when the topic is someone you're still partly in love with?"
Rogue frowned, an expression that came more easily to her mouth than a smile would have. "All I have to do is touch you, and you'll be in a coma."
"For a few days. But how long do you think you'll be in jail?"
"You aren't a nice person."
"Neither are you."
There was a pause as each combatant evaluated their position. Taryn knew she could deal with Rogue's insults forever, and so did Rogue. Rogue knew that Taryn was terrified of her, and so did Taryn. What would have happened next is an irrevelant issue, since right then Scott came downstairs arm in arm with Jean, and Rogue had been in the Danger Room enough times to know when to allow her teammates a clear field of fire.
"Why hello, Taryn, is there anything I can do for you?" Jean asked in that sweet tone people use when they hope you are diabetic.
"You can listen," Taryn stated, in that way people do when they've prepared a speech after they know it by heart. "I was wrong, and stupid, and a bitch. When I stopped talking to you after I found out --" she visibly struggled not to use an euphemism, and succeeded, "-that you were mutants. I have no excuse, and so offer you none." She then stopped, sweating and shaking from the strain.
"Are you all right?" Scott asked, rushing down the stairs. She recoiled from his touch like he was Rogue.
"Don't touch me!" she screamed. "I can't stay here if you do. I dislike you too much! I abhor you too much! I fear you too much! I don't like it! Don't you understand!?! That's why I'm here! I'm an xenophobe, and I don't want to be!"
Now there was no preparation, she had forgotten to tell herself what lies still remained. "I always thought that I was good! I always thought that I was open-minded. I always thought that I was brave. I always thought that I was a good friend. And then the first time any of them were truly tested, I failed! I was a venal, cowardly, bigoted, faithless person, and the worst part is I still am!"
"I really think you need to go to someone else about this." Scott said, backing away. "Like a priest. Or maybe a psychologist?"
"This is not between her and God." Jean said. "I think this is between her and us. And as for a psychologist, I think she might be the sanest person we've ever met."
Taryn smiled, and for a moment the friendship was no longer buried. But then her face changed back, expressionless and untrusting of itself. "Look, I'm not here because of you. Don't talk to me about being human, you're just more evolved. I'm here because of me. I'm here because my pride met my honor and knew enough not to fight."
"I'm here because if I'd found out that you were gay, or that those weren't your original genders, or if you had HIV, or if you were drug abusers, or if you were dying of cancer, or the were adopted, or if you were juvenile mass murderers with sealed records - I wouldn't have thrown away more than fifteen years total of friendship over that. And I did throw it away over this.
"I'm not saying there's nothing wrong with you. You aren't my species. Scott you can kill me by looking at me. Not looking at me funny, just looking at me. And Jean - I tried to make a list of all the terrible things a telekinetic telepath can get away with, and even limiting myself to those that couldn't be traced to you I had to give up after more than eighty. I cannot accept that there is nothing wrong with you."
Now her voice no longer broke, and her eyes were still like a suicide's. "But there is something wrong with me, and with the rest of the human race, that we are reacting the way we are. It is wrong for one tribe to hack another to pieces with machetes, it is wrong for a religion to be herded into showers that spray out Zyklon B, and it is wrong for a skin color to decide where people sit on the bus. And so it is wrong for me to ostracize you for your powers."
"I hope that one day I will be able to rise above custom enough to let you touch me, but all I can manage for now is that I can admit how wrong I am. Bye."
She got into her car, and the need to focus on the road kept her from crying. And that night Jean called her, and plans were made, and when Taryn came up next time there was one more mutant around. And the next time there would be one more.
The Discourses of Epictetus
"Look, Scott isn't here."
Taryn sighed. "Look, um, Rogue, is it? A question. Do you normally lie this badly, or just when the topic is someone you're still partly in love with?"
Rogue frowned, an expression that came more easily to her mouth than a smile would have. "All I have to do is touch you, and you'll be in a coma."
"For a few days. But how long do you think you'll be in jail?"
"You aren't a nice person."
"Neither are you."
There was a pause as each combatant evaluated their position. Taryn knew she could deal with Rogue's insults forever, and so did Rogue. Rogue knew that Taryn was terrified of her, and so did Taryn. What would have happened next is an irrevelant issue, since right then Scott came downstairs arm in arm with Jean, and Rogue had been in the Danger Room enough times to know when to allow her teammates a clear field of fire.
"Why hello, Taryn, is there anything I can do for you?" Jean asked in that sweet tone people use when they hope you are diabetic.
"You can listen," Taryn stated, in that way people do when they've prepared a speech after they know it by heart. "I was wrong, and stupid, and a bitch. When I stopped talking to you after I found out --" she visibly struggled not to use an euphemism, and succeeded, "-that you were mutants. I have no excuse, and so offer you none." She then stopped, sweating and shaking from the strain.
"Are you all right?" Scott asked, rushing down the stairs. She recoiled from his touch like he was Rogue.
"Don't touch me!" she screamed. "I can't stay here if you do. I dislike you too much! I abhor you too much! I fear you too much! I don't like it! Don't you understand!?! That's why I'm here! I'm an xenophobe, and I don't want to be!"
Now there was no preparation, she had forgotten to tell herself what lies still remained. "I always thought that I was good! I always thought that I was open-minded. I always thought that I was brave. I always thought that I was a good friend. And then the first time any of them were truly tested, I failed! I was a venal, cowardly, bigoted, faithless person, and the worst part is I still am!"
"I really think you need to go to someone else about this." Scott said, backing away. "Like a priest. Or maybe a psychologist?"
"This is not between her and God." Jean said. "I think this is between her and us. And as for a psychologist, I think she might be the sanest person we've ever met."
Taryn smiled, and for a moment the friendship was no longer buried. But then her face changed back, expressionless and untrusting of itself. "Look, I'm not here because of you. Don't talk to me about being human, you're just more evolved. I'm here because of me. I'm here because my pride met my honor and knew enough not to fight."
"I'm here because if I'd found out that you were gay, or that those weren't your original genders, or if you had HIV, or if you were drug abusers, or if you were dying of cancer, or the were adopted, or if you were juvenile mass murderers with sealed records - I wouldn't have thrown away more than fifteen years total of friendship over that. And I did throw it away over this.
"I'm not saying there's nothing wrong with you. You aren't my species. Scott you can kill me by looking at me. Not looking at me funny, just looking at me. And Jean - I tried to make a list of all the terrible things a telekinetic telepath can get away with, and even limiting myself to those that couldn't be traced to you I had to give up after more than eighty. I cannot accept that there is nothing wrong with you."
Now her voice no longer broke, and her eyes were still like a suicide's. "But there is something wrong with me, and with the rest of the human race, that we are reacting the way we are. It is wrong for one tribe to hack another to pieces with machetes, it is wrong for a religion to be herded into showers that spray out Zyklon B, and it is wrong for a skin color to decide where people sit on the bus. And so it is wrong for me to ostracize you for your powers."
"I hope that one day I will be able to rise above custom enough to let you touch me, but all I can manage for now is that I can admit how wrong I am. Bye."
She got into her car, and the need to focus on the road kept her from crying. And that night Jean called her, and plans were made, and when Taryn came up next time there was one more mutant around. And the next time there would be one more.