ArchivedLogs:Fraternizing

Fraternizing
Civil Sibling Conversations
Dramatis Personae Mallory, Thomas
In Absentia	2014-01-15 Look! I got Thomas out of his lab! Outside!
Location <Wes> - The Grindstone
Bright and cheery, this coffeeshop is Salem Center's social hub. Its black-and-white tiled floors are always kept spotless, and the deep wooden tables are polished smooth. Seating here is abundant, found in the clusters of large and social tables and tucked away at smaller booths, or along the stools at the window counters where the large windows make for ideal people-watching along the main street of Salem Center. It is not nearly as cold as it has been recently, and the weather could almost be described as pleasantly balmy; the skies overhead are clear, and as the sun begins to sink into a fire-hued sunset, the stars spark into view. Weekday evenings are not the most hectic time in Salem Center, save for the occasional locals out for a bit to eat or a walk in the comfortable weather. The Grindstone itself has only a handful of customers inside, quietly sipping at beverages or nibbling at pastries, watching the people pass by on the street. This evening there are certainly some interesting people walking past, though in the small town, it is not unusual to see visible mutants or other such oddities around. As such, Mallory opts for a comfortably casual outfit, a pair of flared dark colored jeans that flare around her digitigrade legs, paired with a pale gray cable knit sweater. A long, black wool coat completes the outfit, flaring at the back to cover her long tail. Her hair is lazily pulled back into a messy braid, neither accentuating nor detracting from her curling horns, which she has done nothing to conceal this evening. Her approach to the coffee shop only draws a few looks, before people return their attentions to their drinks. Pulling open the door to the coffee shop, Mallory casually leans against the door as she holds it open, waiting not so patiently for her twin to enter first. << Come along, brother mine. There is tea to be had. >> Mallory snarks mentally, a smirk on her wine colored lips. Dressed in a comfortable woolen coat over top a white button up shirt and slacks with his pageboy hat, Thomas stubs out a lit cigarette as he enters through the held open door. << Yes sister dear, tea to be had out in the local town. Surely to be in satchets or worse, those little paper bags >> His make up is well put on, covering himself thoroughly enough to pass for human, at least with his practice. “I can’t say as I’ve been here before honestly. Let me guess, where you went the day I had to help Aloke paint?” Glancing around at the seats, he shrugs << I presume we seat ourself? >> he thinks to her as he heads for a table. << Sachets, yes >> Mallory says, rolling her eyes << But decent quality, really. And besides, it’s nice to get out once in a while. >> She follows Thomas into the shop, her heels clacking against the tile floor with each step. << Order first, then grab a seat. Need me to demonstrate, oh sheltered one? >> she smirks, heading for the counter. “Actually, no. He took me into New York for dinner and a bit of sightseeing,” she answers, arms crossed as she looks up at the menu, happy thoughts floating about across the shared connection, of laughter and indistinct conversations. Stepping up to the counter, Mallory places her order - a large double bergamot Earl Grey, in a move that shocked absolutely no one, she then steps aside so Thomas can order. << And then we go grab a seat and wait. Sit, talk, enjoy not being a hermit hiding away in your shiny chemistry lab. >> << I know how to handle counter service >> Thomas thinks back, tongue sticking out slightly before it moves to slightly dampening lips. “That’s good. I wish he had taken my advice and gone for a thicker job, maybe some scleras too.” The mental image of the the make up process with Aloke passes through the link as he places an order for a darjeeling, making sure there is space for some milk. “Hrm, oh yeah do they have biscuits too?” He glances about, and puts in an order for something that would go with the tea. Heading over towards a table, Thomas undoes his woolen coat and settles in to the chair. << I’m sorry I’ve been spending time there. But well, if I can manage to figure it out, it would be pretty useful. I captured a bit of my smoke and I’m analyzing it further. The schools labs are more up to the task thankfully, specially with a bit of help from Hank. If I can figure out the process I shift through, I may be able to make a metamorphic material. Or at least one that can reform on its own. >> He offers a little shrug as he opens the lid of his cup, dipping the bag a few times then setting it to the side. “It is a nice little town at least.” Mallory grins brightly at the response, chuckling << I just wanted to make certain you had not forgotten how to move among the ‘normal’ people, being such a recluse. >> She follows her twin over to the table, shedding the wool coat she wears and draping it over the back before sitting down. “Thank you for that,” she says, with a nod at the shared makeup process, “I think even that light layer of covering made him more comfortable with being out on the town again.” There’s a mental giggle, unbidden, at the thought of ‘light’ covering, accompanied by the image of the makeup beginning to crease and crack with laugh lines, the light beneath making even the tiniest crack visible. “Scleral lenses are a pain in the ass. I like the light in his eyes, besides,” Mallory responds quietly, if with a touch of defensiveness that colors her thoughts. << Don’t feel the need to apologize. I just want to see you getting out more often. Scientific advances are all well and good, but you’ve had even less opportunity to live your own life than I have. >> Mallory leans her elbow on the table, resting her chin in her palm. She studies her brother, in his makeup and concealing cap, idly cataloging the juxtaposition between her own blatantly mutant appearance. She tilts her head curiously at the thought of the material, making a quiet ‘hmm’ sound << Interesting, if a bit disturbing that you have a chunk of yourself in a jar in your office. Promising though, if you can make it work. >> A heavy sigh, and a swirl of largely disorganized thoughts, conversations, memories licked with flame at the edges, << I’ve been talking to Hank, actually, about, well. >> She runs a hand along a horn, frustrated, and just a touch anxious << I want to find out more about what I can do. How I do this. /What/ I am. Would that help your research, any? >> Her thoughts are uncertain, disorganized, and just a touch nervous about the prospect of that. Focusing on her tea, she goes about preparing it, a touch of cream and ample sugar going into the large cup, thoughts calming as she concentrates on the familiarity of the tea. “It is a nice little town, yes,” she agrees, adding, “Incredibly accepting of physical mutants, as well.” << Yes yes sister mine. I reside in lofty dream worlds upon the clouds, ne’re deign to descend upon the banal lands of mere mortals. >> Thomas rolls his eyes a bit at that, taking a sip of undoctored tea before making a face and preparing it appropriately. “Its not a problem, I probably have more experience than most in doing so. It just seems silly doing something half way, why hide what you are if you’re going to leave out the obvious parts like a neon sign?” He shakes his head, glancing up at the mental giggle and snorts audibly. “Yes, such a good joke. But they really aren’t that bad. Its not as though he needs prescription ones, then god help him. Course, most scleral’s are designed to make you look Less human than more so. You’d think the costume industry would be dieing to make mutants actors. Save them so much on prosthetics and make up if they hired ones that just Looked that way naturally.” At the ‘talk’ of concern for him, Thomas shakes his head abit. << I’ll live when there’s time to live. I don’t want either of us worried about modesty if we have need to concern ourselves with survival. What if something like what… what had just happened comes across again? We shouldn’t stick about like sitting ducks. >> Sipping the doctored tea, he lets out a contented sigh. << I’ve done it before, though with lesser quantities. I just couldn’t keep the experiment going too long with university equipment. Too many questions would be asked on why I’m researching neuro-reactive metamorphic materials, and where I got the samples. >> Breaking apart one of the biscottis, he passes the other half to Mallory, and crunches into his own. << I don’t know if it would help my research, but if you need help let me know. The pain sucks a lot, but I know you don’t tend to like the other… aspects of your shift. >> “Ah the joys of small towns then.” Thomas offers a bit of a smirk. “May they always be more civilized than the cities that seek to swallow them whole.” << Oh, sarcasm, brother? So charming. >> Mallory chuckles into her cup of tea, shaking her head. “I don’t know that he was trying to pass so much as just decrease the obviousness?” Mallory offers with a shrug, running her hand along the curve of a horn, “Beside me, I doubt a subtle aura of glow would draw that much attention, anyway.” She crinkles her nose, “Type casting to the extreme, I suppose. It’s potentially limiting - I mean, it gets a bit boring if every single monster looks the same - and more torturous for the mutant in question as they’re now seen as even more monstrous when they’re out and around in life.” A memory of screams and the splash of cold water comes across the shared link, a grimace drawing Mallory's lips back from her teeth at the thought. << In the event of another emergency, modesty goes right out the bloody window. Just saying. But the ability to safely ‘run’ with Aloke is at least part of why I wish to look into, well, me. >> Mallory says with a snort, memories of a snowy conversation about running away bubbling to the surface. She accepts the biscotti half and nibbles daintily on it as she thinks << I rather need your help for translation, if nothing else. Difficult to explain things when everything I try to say just comes out as a pitiful gout of flame. >> a frown creases her features, and she nods, continuing << The pain is excruciating, but I’ve been working on ways to mitigate that, in theory anyway. >> Several moments of contemplative quite go past as she sips her tea << I don’t know what I should test, or try or anything like that. It’s always been something to avoid and keep under control, instead of something to be explored and worked with. >> The thoughts are tinged with a nauseated anxiety at the thought of dealing with other aspects, but she takes a deep breath and smiles nervously. << Years of practice, I assure you only the best will do >> Thomas thinks back with a smile. “I’m just saying that I thought it was a half done job. All it does is increase the uncanny valley if he only takes it Close Enough, rather than as far as possible. Causes more discomfort than something obviously no longer matching. Like the Corinthian. If he was all teeth and monstery, far less a creepy monster than just biting eyes.” Frowning, he nods at the shared experience and sighs. “I know. But it does seem like it would be more positive if done right. After all, they made those comic book movies and there was the one with the demon guy as the main protagonist. Think of all the prosthetics they could have saved if they just had a natural one. Honestly its just the role and how its written. Put enough heroic ones, and the children will beg for action figures and grow up thinking it the best thing in the world to not be human.” << I’d still rather not end up in the middle of a prickly forest with my bits possibly getting sticker bushed >> Thomas shudders and suppresses the thought to not share it over the line. << But whatever you need, simply ask. I’ve tried simple over the counter pain killers, but nothing quite deadens the pain of having every single cell on your body immolate. Perhaps some form of psychic block could be put in place? But that would just mask a problem instead of fixing it. >> Letting out a sigh, he finishes off the crumbly cookie thing, thinking that he could use some more. << It may be best to just go from the basics. Change form, analyze what we can, see what you are able to do. We can set up thermal analyzers, and perform permeability tests. >> Each description of test comes with a mental picture of what would be going on. << And definitely bring enough extra food stuffs along to deal with the caloric burn. Maybe we should invest money in the heavy protein shake and bar companies. Return on investment for all the mutants with increased metabolic rates. I usually just let the accountant handle my… >> His thoughts trail off, replaced with the guilt of what their parents had done. “I can see that. I suppose the more often he does it, the more comfortable he’ll get with it. But it is up to him,” Mallory offers with a shrug, apparently decidedly comfortable in the fact that her boyfriend glows like a lightbulb on a normal basis. She shudders and involuntarily shares a mental image of the Corinthian, her nose crinkling in distaste, “Yeah. No teeth eyes. That would unnerve even me, and I’m used to seeing this in the mirror every day.” There’s a vague gesture at her own countenance with an impish smile to complete the look. She snorts, “Eh, it would be good, if it happened in positive roles and such, but, well, how many physical mutants are actually going to go into acting as a profession, and be good enough to pull it off?” Memories of the two of them as children, with Mallory dramatically reading Shakespeare to a less than enthusiastic Thomas, both of them considerably more human looking in the memory. << Oh, god. Yes, I imagine that would be quite miserable. Hadn’t ever thought of that trouble. >> Mallory snorts out loud, shaking her head and grimacing while trying to suppress a giggle. << I need to coordinate with Hank, anyway, so I’ll see what he suggests. >> she sighs softly, closing her eyes and setting aside the nervousness, << Was planning on having heart rate monitor and such, if possible. Maybe blood draws before and after to see if there are changes in that sort of thing or, hell, I don’t know. I’d say get a tattoo done before then to see just why the hell they vanish when I do this, but that is a huge waste of money. And I’m not willing to waste my own on it, this time. >> The last statement carries with it a sizable amount of grumping, and an exasperated snort. She drums fingers against the base of a horn, frowning as she thinks << I want to know, but, dammit, it’s still sort of nerve wracking. I suppose there is worse pain to be had, but they usually give epidurals and nerve blocks for that sort of thing. >> Blinking several times at Thomas’s statement, eyebrow raising, “Hm? That actually sounds like a solid plan, all things considered. If you have the opportunity, why not take advantage of it?” Outwardly, she seems completely unbothered by the discussion, continuing to nibble at her biscotti, but there is a muted pang of regret somewhere beneath the veneer. “Practice makes perfect,” Thomas says out loud, to reiterate previous mental claims. “If he wants to hide, he should hide. If he doesn’t then there’s little reason. But doing it partwise is actually more dangerous for those who go all out. A little bit more likely to question whether a gentleman is metrosexual, or has something to hide.” He sips more from his cup, thinking a bit though he smiles behind it at her shuddering. “As I said, uncanny valley factor. If a mutant is distinctly a mutant, or a human is distinctly a human. It is the partways thing that can cause the most dread to come to mind. And as for acting? Why not. Herr Wagner would make an excellent actor, if those kinds of movies were still popular. I think he saw a few too many Errol Flynn movies and hasn’t moved onwards much. There isn’t much swashbuckling to be done in movies these days unless you’re in a sequel to that pirate franchise.” << Clothing was not originally intended for modesty, but as protection from elements and other hazards. >> Thomas thinks with a grin. << Hank knows his stuff, and you can always ask about to others. I believe the history teacher, ah what was her name… >> he mentally fumbles as he slots up an image of Mariot from passing her in a hallway. << Well I think she had some time at Muir Island as well, she may know some testing techniques they do there. >> Wincing at the thought of epidurals, he shudders. “I am so glad I am a male and won’t need consider such things.God must have been a major asshole to pass along painful childbirth as his punishment to women. I would much rather toil instead.” Folding his napkin and blotting up little flecks of missed tea, he nods. “I can see about it. Perhaps a separate set of accounts, take the earnings from here for the purpose. Shame I hated those manufacturing systems classes so much, I bet one could market high calorie foods pretty well.” “I know, and as you spoke with him while exchanging makeup tips, I figure he’s heard your opinion on the matter,” Mallory says as she pops the last bite of biscotti into her mouth. << Will see what he decides to do. >> she finishes mentally, as her mouth is still crunching on the cookie piece. << Oh, yes, I could see that. He is a rather dramatic individual. I doubt I would be willing to put myself out there that much - not my cup of tea. >> She demonstrates by taking a long pull of her tea, washing the last of the biscotti out of her mouth. “Fair point about the clothing, though. I’d still take that over the potential other danger, all things considered,” Mallory says with a shrug, her mind wandering aimlessly to conversations with her assistant about being lost. << Mariot. Had a lovely chat with her some time ago, during which she offered to assist, yes. >> Mallory sighs, running a finger anxious along a horn, her thoughts still chaotic, but determined despite being a jumbled mess. << I’ll start with some of the basic stuff, what you’ve suggested, a few things Hank has brought up, >> she adds, closing her eyes briefly and taking a long sip of her tea. The grin on Mallory’s lips, however, can only be called wicked as she chuckles << Oh, brother of mine, forgotten that we can share pain as well as thoughts? Careful how much you gloat. Besides, whether God was involved in that or not, we both know evolution can be a wicked mistress. >> she smirks, tail lashing slowly behind her. “Frosted Mutie-wheats - the high calorie way to start the day?” she giggles, raising an eyebrow, “For some reason, I do not think those would sell quite as well as other foods.” << We will see. I just like to minimize problems before they occur, >> Thomas thinks as he finishes off his tea. “And little scrapes aren’t that big of a deal yes. But still, if I can figure a way to synthesize it, or maybe even find the catalyzing formula, it would be a fairly useful thing. At least for us that is.” He shrugs and puts his trash into the cup to clean up the best he can, contemplating another cup. << Ah that was her name. Good to know it’s already been breached. >> Thomas smiles as he stands up. “I intend to be in another country if ever you get yourself into that situation,” he says with a sickly sweet smile. << I have no desire to share your morning sickness, let alone any of the factors leading up to the final event itself. >> “And that is a terrible name. I will be sure to poison any marketing team that suggests it. Speaking of which, I could go for another cuppa. You just about done yours?” “Oh, agreed, it would be beyond useful,” Mallory agrees, polishing off the last of her tea in a long pull, “Even just being able to have basic things made of it would be a god send.” A grimace twists her lips as she recalls her incident at the poolside, and the resulting whispers and rumors that had made their way around the campus. “I would be curious if it would work for Aloke as well, with his relatively new ability,” she snorts, an image of Aloke glowing brighter than he does even now, the smell of singed grass. Slowly, she rises to her feet, carefully steadying herself against the chair << Oh wow, I imagine that would be unnerving. Phantom kicking. >> She looks to Thomas as she carefully tugs her long coat back on << You’d really leave? >> Despite her best effort, there is the slightest twinge of hurt in the question, just there for a moment and then gone. “Oh, come on, it is not that terrible of a name. It wouldn’t sell, but we have had food with far worse names,” she laughs, smiling brightly, “Sure - cup to go? Should likely be heading back, school night and all.” A smirk tugs at the corner of her lip, and she starts to head towards the counter, waiting for Thomas to follow. “They’ve been working carbon nanotubes for years and still are only scratching the surface. This will probably take about as long to go from theory to clothing.” Thomas tosses his cup of trash into the trashcan, and looks back towards his sister. “It probably would, but why would he need it? He doesn’t have the same problem really,” << and you have it worse. I can at least keep the tighter clothing to reappear. Sometimes. >> He thankfully only lets some embarrassment go through instead of actual imagery. << The phantom kicking, morning sickness, pressing on other bits of anatomy that would be equally awkward. >> Thomas shudders at the awkwardness and she gets a feeling of Where precisely he is thinking things would be pressing. << I wouldn’t want to share in it. I was kidding about how far I’d go, but that would be worse than you accidentally sharing the… conception part. >> He grimaces, the timing coinciding with her commentary on the name not being too terrible. “No, it is Quite terrible. It would be better not to mention precisely Who the target audience is meant for. I’m sure it could be marketed for those body builder competitions, or high calorie athletes. I hear that one swimmer, ah… the one with the drugs? That he was eating almost as much as we do.” Adjusting his hat carefully as if to scratch an itch in a bothersome place, he nods. “A cup to go would be fine. Something to last the trip back to a proper cuppa. I will have to brew three or four when I get home just to make it proper.” He chuckles at the school night comment, sending across imagery of them with their tutors when they were little. “I can dream, right?” Mallory laughs at the timeline explanation, shaking her head, “So bloody useful.” She places the orders for their to-go teas, leaning against the counter while they wait. << Oh, right. I suppose that might not be entirely common knowledge. Dammit. Ah, after the accident last year, his powers seem to have expanded. His skin becomes not entirely unlike a laser, I suppose - it destroys what he is wearing just as certainly as mine does. >> She makes a guilty face at having apparently spilled the beans on that, as it were; though Thomas is largely spared from the imagery of Aloke’s transformation to and from, thankfully. The awkwardness gets a shudder from Mallory, and she shakes her head, glancing at the floor << Sorry, Thomas. It’ll be a long while before that’s even a remote consideration. Just…>> her mental voice trails off, and she scratches idly at the base of a horn, several thoughts echoing through her mind, but none forming into completion over the link. << Perhaps by the time that happens, I’ll be able to avoid the overshares entirely? >> she offers, a hopeful note to her thoughts. “Fair enough, I suppose. If you can figure out how to make it, and have it not taste like cardboard and sadness? You’ll be set, regardless of what our family does,” Mallory snorts, “Hell, I’d pay for something like that.” Her smile brightens again at the shared memory, accompanied by another surprisingly happy memory of them sneaking out to study in the gardens long after they were supposed to be asleep on a school night. She snorts at his tea comment, accepting her cup from the barista and offering a smile as she pays, pushing Thomas’s cup towards him. << Tea snob. >> << I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to practice before that situation comes up. >> Thomas gives a nod, then pauses midway through << Er, telepathy practice, not, gah! >> The mental link goes whitewash a moment as if he is attempting mindbleach. “Unfortunately its not exactly high on my to do list. A side project, I can perhaps propose it to someone with more interest in baking than chemistry.” Accepting his own tea from the barista with a smile, Thomas mentally replies << Of course. Otherwise we may as well be drinking coffee. >> He chuckles as he takes a sip of the tea, projecting a mental image he hadn’t shared before of a late night in the lab in uni with a pot of stale coffee and a bag of sugar next to it. “We all grow out of bad habits eventually. Or, not, depending on one’s inner child.” << And our inner children are so poorly behaved. >> Mallory’s seemingly unwarranted laugh startles the poor barista, and she clamps a hand over her mouth to quiet her childish giggling. A sudden blush rises to darken her already red cheeks as she continues to giggle << Oh my. Well, I suppose not inaccurate on ei…>> she gags her side of the mental link, tossing up an old style film test pattern as she makes a quiet choking cough. << I am so, so sorry. >> The tone, and accompanying mental giggle, does not seem quite that apologetic. “Understandable. Clothing, far more important than tasty baked goods,” she chuckles out loud, offering a shrug, “Perhaps some day. My cooking skills leave quite a good deal to be desired.” << Pfft. Maturity is overrated. >> she counters at last, sipping her tea, and returning an image of a small group of pajama clad uni students, herself included, camped on the roof of the library, complete with sleeping bags, a tent, supplies of junk food, and a stack of books on ‘scary ghost stories’ nearby. << Were you just eating that sugar by the spoon full? >> she snorts, heading for the door with a quiet chuckle, glancing back to her brother with a grin. Thomas gives the barista one of those apologetic, what can you do smile and shrugs as he reapplies sugar and cream to the tea now that there is room. << Let us never think of that again. >> “Its more I have the scientific understanding of the one, and much less of the other. There is a difference between making a fry up and trying to figure the optimum caloric ratio, taking into account size, shape and ingredients, while making it not taste like cardboard. Better to leave it to someone who is already concerned with how things taste more so than someone like myself who would focus on the composition and the numbers.” << You only think it is over rated because you set things on fire to get your way. >> Thomas smirks as he re-bundles up to head for the door. << And No, I was supersaturating the coffee with sugar to see just how much it could soak up and still remain a liquid. Mostly it ended up being about the same as Turkish coffee, but with sugar at the bottom instead of coffee grounds. >> Pulling the cigarette prop he had tamped out from his pocket, he holds it with the practice of a social smoker and sips his tea as he heads outside. Still giggling, Mallory follows Thomas out into the chill air << Agreed. We’ll just pretend that exchange never happened. >> Sipping from her tea, Mallory shrugs at the fire comment, << Once. Not like I make a habit of it. >> The description of the coffee gets a chuckle from her as she watches him with the cigarette, “Oooh, sludge coffee. Delicious and entirely appropriate use of university scientific equipment.” She chuckles, and lightly thwaps the back of Thomas’s leg with her tail, before nodding in the general direction of the school. “Alright, homeward bound, brother of mine,” she says with a laugh, “Don’t want our inner children breaking curfew or anything irresponsible like that.”