ArchivedLogs:Innocuous Gifts

Innocuous Gifts
Dramatis Personae Lucien, Matt
In Absentia	2018-03-15 "{Did he learn anything, though?}"
Location <NYC> Tessier Residence - Greenwich Village
Understated opulence claims this spacious and well-kept townhome, the decor throughout the whole of it of the highest quality and carefully chosen. The front door opens onto the entrance hall, a closet close at hand to receive coats and shoes -- the pale hardwood floors gleam underfoot, unsullied by tracked-in mess from outside. The living room beyond the entrance is all dark woods and pale earth tones, comfortable couches and armchairs and a thick soft rug laid down beneath. Two large and painstakingly aquascaped aquariums flank the entrance to the dining room, with several brightly coloured species of fish within. Most of the rest of the wall space, notably, is taken up with shelves -- shelves crammed with books of every subject and genre. A study branching off of the main hall is cozy, small, done in pale blues and lined with books as well around the large computer desk and smaller futon, though these rarer books are cased behind glass. Another securely locked door leads to the basement, and another to the full bathroom downstairs. The kitchen connects to the living room; in contrast, it is sleek and modern and well-appointed, stocked by someone who takes their cooking seriously. And takes their alcohol equally seriously -- to one side of the kitchen there is a fully-stocked bar. The back door to the kitchen looks out on a small well-kept garden. Early afternoon finds Matt still in pajamas--black pants covered with little red hearts to match white shirt with one large red heart on the chest, bracketed with red capital 'A's like an Ace of Hearts--puttering about the kitchen. The entire house smells like the chickpea noodle soup simmering on the stove. He tends it only periodically while he cleans, slow and methodical. Occasionally he sways, steadying himself against a counter or chair or wall until it passes. Even discounting those, he looks rather ill, pale and drawn and a little dazed. His phone, sitting on the counter, looses a series of whistling chirps--a very excited R2-D2--and he slaps at the screen until it goes silent. He pours out two mugs of light oolong tea and sets both on a tray. Two bowls of soup join them, and he carries the whole with perhaps exaggerated care to the study, stomping one foot lightly on the floor outside the door in lieu of knocking. It takes some time before the stomp is answered. Eventually, though, there's a rustle from inside the room. A quiet: "{Come in.}" Lucien's futon has been pulled out into a bed, piled high with pillows. He is bundled into it, in pajamas of his own -- black Ace of Spades tee, soft black pants -- Kindle in his lap, though its screen has gone blank. His brows pull together as he looks toward the door. Matt looks down at the tray, looks at the door knob, and awkwardly shifts the former into one hand (braced precariously against his hip), freeing one for the latter. Roused from wherever she'd been napping, Flèche pads down the hallway, slips into the room, hops up onto the bed, and drapes herself across Lucien's lap. Matt is slower to enter, but when he does he looks sure of his footing and not /particularly/ likely to spill tea or food everywhere. He sets the tray down on the desk and passes his brother a mug. "{I also made soup.}" He sinks down onto the edge of the futon, one leg folded under himself. "{If you're stomach's up to it.}" He pauses a beat, studying Lucien closely, but then only adds, "{I assure you, it has at least one flavor.}" Lucien rests a hand on Flèche's head, rubbing gently behind her ears. His eyes lift slowly to the mug when Matt holds it out; he gives it a blank look for a long moment before actually reaching for it. "{For now, I think, just the tea. Thank you.}" He cups it, draws it near. Looks down into it. "{You look worse.}" There's an uncertainty in his voice, a deeper frown etching itself into his features. "{I feel worse,}" Matt confirms easily enough, taking up his own tea and sipping with care. "{But it's neither unexpected nor unmanageable. I expect it will progress more or less like last time.}" He drops one hand to stroke the dog's silky flank. It's a long moment and another sip before he asks, "{How do you feel?}" "{And Joshua? Is he --}" Lucien's lips press together. "{Well?}" This carries a tinge of uncertainty as well. His eyes stay fixed on his tea, mug slightly wobbly in unsteady hands. Matt shakes his head and winces, starts to lift a hand to his temple, but quickly returns it to his mug. "{He is quite ill, also. Not getting any /worse/, last I checked--thank the gods--but mending slowly.}" He reaches out and lays one hand gently on his brother's knee. "{And you?}" Quiet, firm, but patient. "{Remind me to cook him a very nice meal, when we are all well enough to eat it.}" Lucien's gaze is drawn by his brother's touch, pulled away from his mug to stare down toward his knee. "{Did he learn anything, though?}" This time, the repeated question draws a small discomfited twitch, though nothing further. "{I will.}" Matt withdraws his phone from a pocket and swipes a few quick strokes on its screen before putting it away. "{Yes, though not as much as we'd hoped. The power can massacre somatic cells at range, and cause others to die off over the course of several days. He doesn't know the mechanism, but the types of cells affected and the speed with which they succumb both seem random, which /suggests/ some form of biokinesis over less direct means like radiation or chemicals.}" He takes a long pull of his tea and eyes the soup speculatively before returning his gaze to Lucien. "{It can also disable mutant powers at range--/ours/, at the very least--mechanism also unknown. It gives sensory/proprioceptive feedback, which is not intuitive, but most importantly, Joshua has access to it now. He is working on it.}" The hand on Lucien's knee squeezes down gently. "{Harder, probably, than he ought in his current state.}" "Mmm." Lucien's hands clench tighter around his mug, relax. "{I don't expect it would be very fruitful encouraging him to take it easy.}" Not, really, a question. His grip is tightening again with the inquiry (soft, tired): "{Would that we were predisposed towards more innocuous gifts. There are people who just understand languages better. Read books faster. Somewhere out there, someone always brews a perfect cup of tea.}" Matt rolls his eyes. "{I encouraged, pleaded, and nigh on /commanded/, for all the good it did.}" He finally sets down his tea and takes up a bowl of soup, though he only gets a couple of spoonfuls in before setting it quite nonchalantly aside again. "{We'd find ways turn the most innocuous of abilities to peril. It needn't even be much of a reach, with reading.}" So saying, he picks up Lucien's Kindle and wakes it. Scans down the screen and looks up, eyebrows lifted. "{Shall I read to you?}" A pause, then, "{As innocuously as I can manage.}" Lucien tenses when Matt sets the bowl aside, eyes flicking briefly after it. He says nothing, settles back more comfortably against the pillows. He lowers his mug still untouched into his lap. His head inclines toward the Kindle -- "Freedom Is A Constant Struggle: Ferguson, Palestine, and the Foundations of a Movement" is the book currently on the screen. "{Innocuous. Have fun with that.}" "{I'll work on it,}" Matt promises gently, nodding at his neglected lunch. "{I could read you something /else/, if you prefer. You do realize these things can accommodate at least /two/ books, right?}" His smile is very faint and just a touch crooked as he starts scrolling through the library. "{Mmm. How about the Johannes Cabal books? That's nice, light reading.}" "{I don't need to wipe it every time I want a new book? Goodness. This is revolutionary news.}" Lucien leans forward again, sets his tea aside. He just acknowledges Matt's suggestion with a soft hum. Curling onto his side, he pulls a blanket over himself, nestling up against Matt's side and resting his head in his brother's lap. His eyes close, hand curling against Matt's knee. "{I'm listening,}" is too sleepy to be entirely truthful. "{Glad to be of assistance.}" Matt shifts the pile of pillows a bit and leans back against them. Flèche grumbles at all the movement, but quickly re-settles herself, curled back onto herself and resting her chin on Lucien's side, gazing up at Matt. The elder Tessier scratches behind her ears before resting his hand on his brother's head, smoothing back his hair. "Chapter one," he reads, his voice clear and fluid, "in which a scientist visits hell and a deal is struck..."