Private Finished It's a crime we haven't met yet

The silence kept on even after Raphael spoke his peice, but he was thankful that it didn't feel as suffocating as before. The younger Horseman watched her expressiong turn thoughful for just about moment before casually directing it elsewhere so she doesn't feel pressured. It had been bad enough that he seemed to push her into a bad topic as she seemed to react.

He'd given her a short version of everything he knew about his... Horseman-ness and all. He knew there could be others like him who got their abilities differently but he didn't want to brush off the possibility of finding help or understanding with them, who were, in a way, in touch with the same "element" as he was.

Raphael waited until Fatima broke the silence between them first and he was relieved to hear that she didn't sound as freaked out as she did earlier on. It was better than nothing, if he had to be honest.

"Pestilence," he replied bluntly, finding nothing else to coat it with. "Or well, according to a very nervous Pa of mine. I could probably make a guess without having asked him about it though." He didn't really know what to say about having been raised by cultists. It was hard to imagine, or maybe it was only because his only experience with cultists involved the feeling of being watched and black envelopes on their front porch.

"I dug around for a while and I think my parents did stuff before and might have something to do with the guys that stalked us before I was born. Y-you don't have to worry about them if you're wondering; if I have to believe Pa, they're not gonna be bothering us." How his dad seemed confident about that, he didn't know for sure. "Anyway, it's all theory because I don't really have a lot to go by."

"B-but yeah, I guess it's a lot to ask for others to help me out with my stuff. But I just thought... I could figure something out." Raphael added, laughing nervously. If Fatima's cult had anything to do with his family's sketchy backstory, then his dad had enough reason to be dodgy about it. Cults and purposes didn't sound very assuring. And yet he couldn't stop wondering because it felt like it answered a lot of his questions about himself.

"Pa told me about the powers thing a little early on; about three, four years back. I kept asking him about it-- where it came from, why I have it-- before the scout came but he wouldn't budge until then," Raphael explained. The life in his voice seemed to die down a little compared to when he'd greeted her earlier on. He didn't notice much since he turned part of his attention to his food that was left almost forgotten from their conversation.

"Before we left for Manta Carlos, he told me he left the U.S. after Ma passed away so he moved back to his hometown with me to keep out of trouble." He frowned, "He said no one's supposed to know but me and Pa but those guys did. If they were the ones behind my powers like the cult you mentioned, then that can explain how they know about me. So then they'd have a reason to come after us." He sighed, taking a bite out of his meal, seeming thoughtful as the fork hung in his mouth a little longer than it should have. "I want to believe Pa left to keep me safe after we lost my mom. I trust him. And he's not dangerous, I can tell you," he added, a slight chuckle finally showing in his voice. His father was childish if he had to say anything, sometimes he wondered if he was being too cruel to accuse him of working with some creepy cult to wanted to see the world end. He flashed a smile to Fatima, trying to assure her.

"I probably wouldn't like growing up with people telling me I'm here to end the world. That would be sad," he said, considering her words. It would be hard to learn more about his abilities if even possibly the same people that could have shared his type of abilities had it differently but... he could guess he could get some ideas. "I guess my powers aren't that weird then. Mine has sort of an off switch--or well, more of a reverse button. This side's pretty normal, I think but Pa says I'm ridiculously lucky it's probably magic." Which... was probably a joke back then, Raphael thought. Giving it a new context, maybe it was really some magic-induced luck. "The other side, I can't say I don't like it but I always feel sick and I make a lot of people feel it too. I tried focusing it on one of bushes back home and it kind of got infested and died." Raphael cringed at the memory. His dad didn't scold him but it was very difficult to explain he was exploring his powers which he shouldn't have been using then.

"Anyway, I guess it's fine if you can't give me like, a handbook how to use my powers but I guess... I think you might have told me a few ideas about the stuff I can't really ask Pa."

"It was... hard to swallow for me honestly," Raphael admitted. Before all the nonsense about being non-human, he'd saw photos about the Four Horsemen. Heard of them, read of them but he never put much thought into the concept. He lived like any other kid they way they could with a family like he had; his father wasn't religious in anyway, but they lived just as honestly as one could. "I guess we're like complete opposites in that respect. I grew up a normal no-magic business way and you grew up... the other way around," he spoke thoughtfully. His laugh was a little unsure.

He considered Fatima's words for a moment. Something about it didn't seem to mix in with his dad stories of him. Or, more specifically, where he was really from. His dad said his mother died when he was born but... how much of that was true? The again he couldn't say if he really was from the same kind as Fatima who was apparently... summoned? But if he was, then... his dad wasn't really letting him know the other half of the story. Part of him felt lied to, but the other part felt... thankful. Thankful that he gave him a chance to live normally instead of rubbing it in his face that he wasn't human at all. He felt a little bad for Fatima.

"I'm sure we'll be safer here," he echoed her words, "They couldn't possibly get us here knowing my family's circumstances, and maybe yours and John's too." That was all he could ask for. He wanted to go back the way things were when everything was simpler. Maybe in time, he could live with the fact that he wasn't any normal teenager now since now he was surrounded with kids that were just as special. And still... "Honestly though? I wish things were simpler. Things got crazy when those guys showed up and Pa suddenly told me I have powers so now here we are. It's like we're in the same boat but were headed in opposite directions, isn't that crazy?" Raphael tried to laugh it off. To so be similar and so different at the same time; it was so surreal.

Raphael's thoughts wandered for a moment as Fatima told him about their powers, considering her words seriously to find a pattern. If he was going to be honest, finding out he had Pestilence on him wasn't such a pleasant thing to hear, so she couldn't blame him for thinking it was a 'rotten thing to be stuck with'. "In all fairness, they were apparently trying to snatch me up too. I don't think I'd want to go with them either way. I don't want to see the world end yet. I have so many things I want to do! Like... go to college! Get a job I really like. Date people I just... I want to live more! There's so many things still left to do, left to experience. Why would anyone want the world to end?" Raphael seemed to forget the moment for a few seconds until he realized he'd began rambling.

He cleared his throat, muttering an apology before he proceeded to steer the conversation back to their original topic. "A-anyway. Say... you said something about other forms though... what's yours like?"

"I think... that would be scary for me," Raphael mused aloud. He couldn't say it for sure, but as he was now, he would be terrified: thinking there was only you, getting raised by a cult that believed you could bring the end of days, no one else on your side but them. Maybe it could have felt empowering, but with his experiences growing up, it was such a hard thought to get into. He loved that he had grown up the way he did.

"Either way though, I guess we're both adjusting to our new crowd then! I've only read about all this magic in story books when I was younger but living it is all super new. And if you want, I think I got the normal teenager part down pat to throw my two cents in for you," he said, his laugh growing lighter again. This could be nice though; if it turned out that Fatima, John, and him had all the same origins, it would have then be like getting new siblings, right? And they were all getting used to Manta Carlos all the same.

Honestly speaking, the teasing went over his head. He had this thoughts too wrapped up with his struggle about learning his powers he couldn't catch the way Fatima had said it. His thoughts were still bouncing around the concept of being a force of the Apocalypse and the things that come with it that it was hard to think of anything else.

When Fatima answered his question, he listened intently. As she kept on, Raphael realized she wasn't talking about the "other form" he was thinking. This whole time he had thought that this, and his active form were all that he had but as he listened to her, a faint memory seemed to come back. 'I could probably kill and eat people and not remember,' she said. A shiver went down his spine thinking about it and he more he did, the flicker of an old memory grew clearer. His mind drifted, probably long enough to be noticed.

That was a regular afternoon, and he and his dad went to a new restaurant after school for a snack. He remembered them getting stalled along the way, the men in black hoods. They had dragged him and his dad out of the car. He remembered being scared and then... nothing. The next thing he recalled was waking up in his bed room with a high fever. His dad told him he fainted because of his fever. The hooded men left them alone after his dad scared them off. He didn't recall having a fever but he believed his Pa then; he wanted to trust him. But he also said the guys weren't coming back for them. And they really didn't; but it had been so sudden that he couldn't stop thinking about it until months later.

Raphael paled. His hand shot up to his mouth, and the fork he'd been idly playing with dropped to the empty plate. The memory haunted him for so long until it faded into the background. He had no clear memory of that moment, but the mere suggestion of having possibly lost control and hurting people brought an unpleasant feeling at the pit of his stomach.

Fatima's voice only barely reached him, his senses betraying him. Raphael felt like he was underwater at that moment, and her voice completely muffled out by the weight of the water around him. He couldn't breathe. No, no, no, he wasn't having this right now. His breathing was short, it was obvious he was having a hard time, and it already appeared like he was going into panic.

Raphael leaned forward with the gross feeling in his stomach, just curling in his face was almost at the plate in front of him. One, two, three... he counted, or tried to at least, easing his breathing. He still couldn't hear a thing other than the sound of his blood rushing. Focus. His vision seemed a little darker than usual. It was going to be alright.

It might have taken him more than a moment -- minutes even -- Fatima was already probably extremely worried at that point when he finally raised his head. He still looked a little pale, but it was closer to his normal complexion by then. "I'm fine," he said, sounding a little rehearsed. "I just... panicked a little there. Sorry to worry.

"I just remembered something, I think." He thinks, he said. There wasn't anything new with the memory -- it had always been there and nothing seemed to add to it. Except perhaps a new context that he'd never considered before until now.