ArchivedLogs:Heroes and Monsters

Heroes and Monsters
Dramatis Personae Shane, Sebastian, Micah
In Absentia	6 September 2013 Shane and 'Bastian report in about their meeting with Malthus. (Set several hours after meeting with Lucien.)
Location <NYC> 303 {Lighthaus} - Village Lofts - East Village
This apartment is cheerful, in its way -- bright and airy, its floor plan open and a plethora of windows providing it with an abundance of light. The tiny entrance hall opens into a living room, small, though its sparse furniture and lack of clutter give it a more open feel. The decor is subdued and minimalist; black and white is the dominant theme, with occasional splashes of deep crimson to offset the monochrome, though of late myriad bright-coloured dragonflies swarm across the living room wall. The couch and armchair are upholstered in black corduroy, the low wide coffee table central is black wood and glass-topped, and a few large pillowy beanbags provide additional seating by the large windows that dominate the back wall. Towards the back, a couple of doors lead off into bedrooms and bathroom, and to the right, the kitchen's tile is separated from the living room's dark hardwood floors by black countertops. Above the bedroom to one side, there is higher space; a ladder climbs up to a lofted area looking down on the living room. Standing in front of the partition between living and cooking area is a large fish tank: one lone Betta, blood-red, swims regally among several species of black and silver fish. A hallway beyond the kitchen leads further into the apartment. Another bathroom stands just into the hall and the farthest door leads to the apartment's final bedroom, the door usually kept shut to hold in the acrid fumes of turpentine and paints from within. School has only /just started back for the Xavierites; /presumably/ that is where the twins have been all day. One hopes. School starting back up on a /Friday/, though, means that it is at least not overly out of place for them to be /back/ here already. When they do choose to migrate from their apartment over towards the one next door, though, it is late -- late enough it is probably /impolite/ for a social call, late enough Spence is /hopefully/ in bed and Jax probably out bartending. They don’t knock. They rarely knock, just open the door and slip inside -- quiet, at least, out of respect for YoungerBrotherBedtime. They’re still /dressed/ from school -- Bastian in soft pleated grey skirt and pale pink t-shirt, Shane in dark slacks and houndstooth vest. Bastian lingers slightly behind Shane as they enter, hand curled into the crook of his brother’s arm; his nostrils flare for just a moment before he pronounces: “Pa’s not home.” “Good.” That’s all Shane says. He locks the front door behind himself. Jax isn't home, but Micah is! He is settled on the couch with a laundry basket full of clothes and that fresh-out-of-the-dryer scent, slowly building piles of folded things all along the coffee table and the couch's back and arms. In the typical way of a laundry night, he is wearing lounging clothes: a white T-shirt splattered with several colours of paint and pajama pants covered in a horde of tiny, confused-looking kodamas. He twists his torso to better regard the door at the sound of keys turning in locks, smiling when the twins enter. “Hey, Shane, Bastian! How was school? Felt the need t'come visit already?” He pauses, adopting his own somewhat baffled look at the boys' quiet conversation. “Why is it good that Jax ain't home?” Bastian doesn’t move from his position at Shane’s elbow, only heading further into the apartment when Shane does. “School --” He just frowns. “Shitty,” Shane answers with a thin bright slice of a grin. “They kicked me out of my fucking /room/.” He tugs Sebastian along towards the couch, wriggling his arm out of his brother’s grip long enough to wrap his arms around Micah instead in a tight hug. Sebastian offers no hugs, just quietly reaches into the laundry-pile to start folding, too. “They moved him in with Taylor. Um --” “-- it’s good because we wanted to talk to you. Pa /isn’t/ home, right?” Shane sniffs at the air again, /just/ to make sure. “It didn't go well? People didn't give you trouble, did they? I thought that one teacher was put on probation an'--” Micah's brow furrows deeply with lines of worry, the T-shirt in his hands dropped, forgotten, into a puddle of fabric in his lap. “Why did they kick you out of your room? Did somethin' happen? Do we need t'talk t'someone about this?” He tugs Shane in close, returning the hug with an exceedingly tight squeeze. “Is this...about what happened at school? No, Jax went off t'work already.” His head tilts, curious at the entirety of the situation unfolding. “Rasa moved into the boys’ dorm and needed a roommate and they thought --” Sebastian just clacks his teeth together, here, scowling at the laundry as he continues to fold it in quick precise movements. “That it’d be good for us.” Shane’s irritable tone does /not/ sound like he agrees. “Plus Taylor can’t room with Daiki all year again. So --” “They could’ve put /Rasa/ with Taylor,” Sebastian points out, voice clipped. Shane slumps down onto the couch, draping his legs /over/ some of the folded clothes on one arm and dropping his head onto the unfolded t-shirt in Micah’s lap. “Whatever, this isn’t about school. Micah --” But he quiets here, too. Sebastian sets his folded t-shirt neatly /onto/ Shane’s chest. Picks up another one to fold it, too. His gills are fluttering rapidly at the sides of his neck; it is probably for this reason that he doesn’t speak. “-- S’Spence asleep?” Shane’s voice has gotten quieter. “Ah, so it isn't /kicked out/ so much as they just scrambled up the room assignments this year,” Micah summarizes, his shoulders relaxing visibly once that information is imparted. “I think they're just tryin' t'make sure that everybody has a chance t'socialise with everyone else an' isn't stuck with the same person all the time. Y'all /like/ Rasa and Taylor, though, right?” He abandons the folding project, hands busying themselves with running over Shane's hair in a steady, soothing petting motion. “So, all the fuss /isn't/ about the room thing? Or school... What happened? Is everyone okay?” Oh, look! The worried eyebrows are back already. “Yeah, Spence is asleep already. He wanted Jax t'read to 'im before he left, so he conked out even earlier'n usual.” “I /like/ Shane,” Sebastian complains, shoulders tensing and his scowl remaining. “They didn’t have to --” “It was a little surprising. They told us when we showed up last night and --” Shane bites down on his lip for a moment. “It had been a long night already.” Sebastian sets the next shirt neatly atop the first, but then doesn’t take another. He drops down to his knees at the base of the couch, slumping forward to rest his chin against Shane’s arm. “Everyone’s okay, we just -- yesterday I was --” He hesitates, fidgeting uncomfortably. “I went to this fencing club for -- not for /us/, I was trying to -- find a good place for Dr. Saavedro to --” “If we left New York,” Shane cuts in, eyes opening to fix upwards on Micah’s face, “would you come?” “ -- We’re /not/ leaving --” “-- But if we /did/,” Shane presses. “Honey, they're gonna do some random room assignments at boardin' schools. It's what they do. Wasn't nothin' personal against you two, I'm sure. You'll still see each other all the time. An' be in your room here on weekends. An' sleep out in the lake when it's warm enough. An' you can hang around each other's rooms until whatever curfew hours they have, too. I'm not exactly sure of the rules there,” Micah prattles on calmly, still stroking Shane's hair. Then he is left with eyes darting back and forth between the twins as they engage in a verbal tennis match. “Wait, I'm confused? Did somethin' happen at this fencin' club, or are you wantin' t'leave because of the school thing? I just...” He holds off on digging for further clarification, seeing that an answer would likely be the best thing to calm Shane's nerves. “If y'all had t'leave an' Jax wanted me to, I'd go with you. But...where's all this comin' from?” The reassurance about the rooms doesn’t seem to reassure Sebastian all that much; his scowl suggests he is steadfastly /determined/ to be upset about this for some while longer. Shane wriggles his arm out from under Sebastian’s chin, resting his hand instead on the back of Bastian’s neck; his thumb traces down slowly against his brother’s gills in absent petting. “I don’t -- /want/ to leave. Just, yesterday, we --” “There was a guy at the club who --” Sebastian’s gills are almost starting to flutter open, but they quiet again under Shane’s touch. Shane, always blunter, cuts in here abruptly: “We met the man who tried to kill you both.” “If you don't /want/ to--” Micah's confusion melts into a blank expression, his hand ceasing its constant cycle of petting for a few silent breaths. “The one on the radio? Did he follow you? Did he threaten you? He didn't...try to hurt you? Are you sure you're okay?” He cradles Shane's head in his lap, his other hand moving to rest on 'Bastian's shoulder, seeming to need the physical contact to determine for himself that the boys are whole and uninjured. His gaze even tracks to Spencer's door to inspect it for signs of disturbance. Another few breaths of silence pass as he determines that all is quiet and well enough on that front for now. “He didn’t hurt us,” Sebastian answers definitively, though this overlaps with Shane’s: “-- I’m not sure we’re okay.” But they’re quiet, too, then, for a few breaths. Shane’s head presses up into Micah’s touch; Sebastian’s shoulder stiffens beneath it. “He challenged me to a fencing match.” Sebastian sounds faintly bemused, at this. “-- And told me he was going to kill Pa.” “Pretty sure he means it, too. I mean, it’s not like he hasn’t already tried.” Shane’s eyes close. “Did he say who he is? Who he works for? /Why/ they're so focused on Jax?” Micah's teeth hit against his bottom lip and press into it hard. “Anythin' at all?” His voice is a smaller for this last question, and he finally stops pushing. His fingertips brush idly at Shane's cheek. “I'm so sorry you kids gotta go through this kinda thing at all. It's not right. You should...stay away from this guy. He's dangerous, an' I don't think he's above /usin'/ the two of you whatever way he sees fit. So...just let us know if you ever see 'im or he tries to contact you, okay? Don't engage with him.” “He said he works for the military,” Shane answers. “-- He said he kills mutants.” Sebastian wriggles up a little higher on the couch, cheek resting now against Shane’s side. “Professionally, I guess.” “He’s after Pa because --” Shane hesitates, here. “He didn’t say that part. But he /did/ --” “-- tell us to make Pa leave. Here. Get out of the city, go home. Grow /peaches/.” Sebastian’s scowl is returning. “And that if Pa left, he wouldn’t -- follow. Chase. Would -- stop trying to kill him.” “So he’s after Pa because he’s /dangerous/.” “Wants him to stop fighting.” Shane presses his cheek into the brush of Micah’s fingertips. “Wants us to /get/ him to stop fighting.” “But if we stay --” Sebastian presses his face more heavily against his brother’s side. “Then he dies.” “The military,” Micah echoes with a disappointed sigh. “Yeah, we were figurin' that an' just /hopin'/ it wasn't the case. Government.” He shakes his head at the incomplete thought, not wanting to dump the rest of it on the boys. “That doesn't make any sense. If they wanna kill mutants...why would they let him /leave/? It... I can only think they're tryin' t'get 'im somewhere less public. Where they can do it /quiet/ like. Y'can't trust this kind of person t'do what they say they're gonna. If they were gonna let y'all live /quietly/, they would've done back when y'all were still bein' /quiet/. Before everythin' escalated into what it did.” His hand cups around Shane's cheek and jaw gently, his eyes meeting with the boy's and holding the contact. “Don't you boys think for a second that this is a decision /you/ have t'make. 'Cause it isn't. It's just the kind of messed up mind-games that... This is /not/ your responsibility. He's just tryin' t'use you t'get at Jax. D'you get that?” “But he’s not quiet.” Sebastian’s brow knits itself together. “I mean. Even when he’s not raiding their labs or -- he’s not /quiet/. I think they --” “Want him quiet. Right now he’s --” Shane smiles, a small crooked smile that is more sad than amused. “A hero. We don’t actually have that /many/ of those.” “Mostly people think of mutants and think of /us/.” Sebastian’s posture is still tense, growing tenser as he continues. “Of those videos. Of monsters.” “If more people start thinking of mutants and thinking of /Pa/? That’s when,” Shane tells Micah a little tiredly, “we’ve won.” “That won’t happen if he’s off somewhere growing peaches.” Sebastian pulls his knees up towards his chest, turning sideways to lean against the base of the couch, his eyes fixing now on the floor. “-- He’d do it, though. If --” “-- if we asked him. He’d -- take us. And go. Grow peaches.” Shane turns his face slightly, pressing it more into Micah’s palm; he presses a kiss to the palm of Micah’s hand as his eyes squeeze shut. “... What would /you/ do?” “It makes sense they want him quiet, but...as long as he /exists/? He's a threat. He knows too much. Always got the potential t'go right back t'doin' what he was doin' before. No. I really think they'd still come for him. Wait for him t'fade from the public consciousness an' get rid of him /permanently/ once nobody's watchin' anymore.” Micah smiles sadly down at the twins at the talk of heroes and monsters. “No, honey, it's not thinkin' of /Jax/ that would be winnin'. It'd be thinkin' of /you/ an' knowin' you're /people/. Seein' kids instead of inventin' monsters. 'Cause that's the truth of it.” He shakes his head yet again. “Don't ask him, either way, unless it is actually what you'd want. Without this man tellin' you all this. I would let Jax know what's been said, because it's only fair for him t'have the information an' decide for himself. There's enough obfuscation goin' on without us hidin' things from him.” His eyes press closed at that little kiss from Shane, as well, as if trying to hide the sadness that comes along with it. “I just don't trust it. I don't think it's a real out.” “We can be kids /and/ monsters.” Sebastian tilts his head to look at the others, watching Micah’s hand against Shane’s face. His own arms curl around his shins. “What I want is him not to die --” Shane frowns, nuzzling against Micah’s palm. “I want you guys /safe/. But I don’t --” “Know if that’d be possible even if we -- I mean, can you /imagine/ just uh. Giving up on all of --” Sebastian shakes his head. “I’m not sure I can imagine the two of you just. Not. Fighting anymore.” Shane falls quiet. His hand lifts to curl against Micah’s wrist, holding Micah’s hand in place as he mooshes his face into it. The kiss is followed by another, and then another, eyes still squeezed shut tightly. “You're /not/...you're not. You are two sweet, brilliant, cuddly, carin' boys, in spite of everythin' you've been through. It's the people who'd put you kids through all of this that are the monsters. I don't care who has claws'n sharp teeth an' who doesn't.” Micah's hand pats at 'Bastian's shoulder, the other continuing to stroke Shane's cheek until the boy claims it for nuzzling. “We're doin' the best we can t'make /everyone/ safer. If we can. It's hard t'just...let the things happen that we know are happenin'. Even if we were /only/ helpin' people that are already friends...it'd still be a lot of risk an' effort.” Shane's nuzzles and kisses leave Micah staring at the ceiling for a moment, upward gaze strategic in attempting to keep the suspicious shine to his eyes from becoming anything more. “I can tell Jax about this for y'all. So y'don't need to. If you would rather.” Sebastian flexes his fingers outwards, claws lengthening and then retracting slowly. “You’re helping -- a lot of people. Strangers --” Shane is still silent. He’s doing worse on the holding-back-tears front; there’s a slow trickle of dampness on his cheeks as he nuzzles in against Micah’s hand. Presses more kisses to his palm, quicker now, his hand still squeezing gently at Micah’s. His kisses travel inwards, against Micah’s wrist as he starts to pull himself upward into more of a sitting position. Sebastian reaches up, clamping a hand on Shane’s shoulder wordlessly and pressing him back down. His claws curl downward, lightly prickling against Shane’s vest. “... then again, we were all strangers, once. And he still --” He swallows. “Are you sure? I don’t want -- to make you but -- I think if I -- I don’t know if I’d be able to -- I’d probably. Ask him. To go.” Micah nods at 'Bastian. “That's the thing of it. The scope. The amount that would need doin' just for the folks that are already /ours/. Then add all the people out there who aren't. Would be a lot. T'just ignore.” His eyes press closed again at the trickle of Shane's tears dampening his skin, a hard swallow bobbing visibly at his throat, where his chin was turned up to regard the ceiling. When Shane moves to pull himself up, Micah reaches an arm around him, scooping the slight-framed teen into his lap like a much smaller child. He rather misses 'Bastian's attempts to push Shane back down unless they become more forceful, moving to cradle the boy comfortingly. Yet another nod is provided in answer to 'Bastian. “It'd prob'ly be easier for him, too. Not hearin' it direct from you two. It's...a lot for a parent t'hear that way. Be kinder for all of you t'have an intermediary.” “/You/ heard it, this way.” Sebastian’s hand drops from Shane’s shoulder back to the couch cushion. “-- Sorry.” His head drops, too, chin resting now on Micah’s knee. Shane nestles in against Micah when he is scooped up, his arm curling around Micah’s shoulders. His eyes are bright when they open, cheeks still damp with tears. It would, though, perhaps have been better for him to follow Sebastian’s guidance; pulled upright, his kisses shift from Micah’s palm to his exposed throat. Sebastian just scrunches his eyes shut. Like maybe this will make Shane go away? He doesn’t pull him /back/ this time, at least, just exhales heavily. “... We should -- get back to --” This trails off with a flutter of gills. “He's been in charge of takin' care of you an' keepin' you safe a lot longer'n I have. An' doin' it alone for much of the time. It's different for him, still,” Micah tries to explain, but just gives up there. One arm stays wrapped tightly around Shane, the other hand settling on 'Bastian's head when he rests his chin on his knee. Shane's unexpected kisses do a good job of breaking the tear-withholding tension at last, and Micah's shoulders start to shake. This is quickly followed by giggling, then outright laughter. He pats Shane's back until the laughing finally works itself out. “Oh. Hon. 'Bastian's right. Y'all should prob'ly. Think about gettin' t'sleep. Whether it's here or next door or whatever, you're welcome, but--” Another giggle sneaks out before he manages to stifle it. Sebastian’s eyes stay closed when Micah’s hand settles on his head, but it’s less of a tight scrunch, now. “Different.” It’s not really agreement, just a thoughtful echo. “Right. Still. Still -- sorry. Let’s --” He pushes himself upright, straightening with a small pat at Shane’s side. Shane dips his head somewhat abruptly, cheeks flushing faintly darker and his gills pressing up at the red collar around them, at Micah’s fit of giggling. His clear inner eyelids blink, a few times in quick succession. “Here --” he starts to say, but pulls back at Sebastian’s patting, sliding off of Micah’s lap to stand. “Oh -- okay. Yes. Sleep.” His arms curl against his chest tightly. “Sorry,” Sebastian says, again. “It just -- seemed like -- you guys should know.” Micah's cheeks have also darkened by the time he pulls himself together again. He pushes the neglected T-shirt from his lap to the couch and stands after the boys do. “Yes, sleep. Like I said, here or there is still fine. I can understand...not wantin' t'be alone after that. If there's no one home over there.” He gestures through the wall in the general direction of the boys' apartment. “Don't apologise. Tellin' us about that kind of thing is 100% the right thing t'do. Okay? Never doubt that it's a good thing t'let us know what's goin' on. It's the best way for us t'help, an' t'react in general.” Micah shifts forward a step to wrap both of the twins in another hug. “Love you guys. An' I'll tell Jax about...all of this. In the mornin', okay?” “-- don’t want to be alone,” Shane answers without hesitation; it puts a brief troubled look on Sebastian’s face, but this is hidden in the hug as he presses his face to Micah’s side. Both twins return the hug, tight; Shane’s fingers curl tight into Micah’s paint-splattered shirt. “{Love you.}” It’s quiet Vietnamese, soft and a little choked. Micah squeezes the boys a little tighter at Shane's assertion, then kisses each of them lightly on the top of the head, in turn. “Let me get some fresh sheets out t'make up the beds. I can come sit with you until you fall asleep, if y'want?” His head is tilted down close to Shane with that offer, clearly looking to him for the response. Sebastian squeezes just a little bit tighter and then lets go, wordlessly turning away towards the closet beside the bathroom to retrieve clean sheets. Shane squeezes tighter, too, though he doesn’t move away after. He stretches up onto his toes, and when Micah tilts his head down, Shane tilts his up, brushing a small kiss to Micah’s lips. “-- okay.” That’s all. He sounds kind of tired, sinking back down to bonk his head against Micah’s stomach. “Thank you.” The little kiss earns a soft smile, Micah's arm moving up around Shane's shoulders as 'Bastian heads off to retrieve the linens. “No need for that. This was your home long before it was mine. C'mon, you sound tired.” With that, he guides Shane in the direction of his room for some well-needed rest.