ArchivedLogs:Don't Tell

Don't Tell
Dramatis Personae B, Shane
In Absentia	Wednesday, 28 June, 2017 '
Location <NYC> The Grotto - Harbor Commons - Lower East Side
The basement of this home does not much resemble the upper levels at all. Stony and rather cave-like, its flooring is rock -- where it has flooring, anyway. The majority of the space in the center of the room is taken up by an indoor pool, of sorts, though the stone ledges around its edge and the tiny ripples of waterfall burbling down into it from stone steps leading in give it more the feel of an indoor /pond/. Somewhere in the side a door leads out to the riverside, and around one rocky wall a small bathroom /also/ has the feel of being carved out of the stone. For the most part, though, the room is just taken up by Pool -- though in the wall on the farthest side away from the pond there's been recessed shelving and storage space cut right into the stony facade. It's been one long day and then another, long hours at Evolve followed by long hours of rehearsal. Shane is just getting home from rehearsal, dressed still as he'd been all day at the cafe -- pale grey slacks, dark green button-down, bow tie. He's looking more than a little rumpled, more than a little worn, the heat getting to him as he moves to put his violin away. His hands are a little unsteady as he begins to untie his tie and peel his clothing off, hanging his pants and tie in a closet-space niche in the rock and setting shirt and briefs in the laundry. He's looking sort of wilted as he slips into the pool, sinking down to disappear beneath the water and melt along the rock floor. His eyes close, legs curling up against his chest as he gets as comfortable as is possible in his haphazardly-chosen location. Shane is left for some while, to lie there, to melt, to drift off after his long workday. But eventually there's a quiet splash, a ripple of water, and a second SmallBlueShark is joining him in the pool. Lean arms curl beneath Shane's shoulders, pulling him up off the pool floor and over to his /actual/ sleeping nook -- still rocky but with a generous helping of java moss to provide cushion. B tucks Shane down into this bedding with a light peck on the cheek, pushing hirself up towards the surface of the pool afterwards to take an (also softly cushioned with a carpeting of willow moss) seat on one of the shallow-submerged ledges nearer its rim. Ze has a tablet resting on the edge of the pool that ze picks up once ze's settled, entirely careless of the dripping water streaming off hir hands as ze swipes its screen back on. Shane stirs, when he's moved. Just a little, a waterlogged grumble, a tired clenching-up tighter into a ball. Then nestles back into the moss to continue sleeping. After a short while, though, he uncurls, stretching languidly and then drifting upwards to re-situate himself on the ledge beside B, head resting in B's lap as he curls back up just beneath the lapping surface of the water. Shane's eventual arrival -- unsurprising though it may be -- provides distraction from whatever B has been working on. Ze sets the tablet down casually on the surface of the pool, letting it float beside hir as one hand drops to rest a hand on Shane's spiky head. Hir own eyes close, head tipping back against the rocks instead as ze slouches just low enough to finish submerging the gills at hir sides. Shane is moving in slow stages, tonight, it seems. Pool floor to his bed, bed to this ledge -- /eventually/ he unfurls enough to drag his head up out of the water, tucking cheek against B's side instead. "{I beat you home tonight.}" "{You beat me home most nights, I'd bet.}" B's hand lifts when Shane's head pokes out of the water, fingers trailing lazily down against the gills at Shane's neck. "{Boston's kinda far to make it in time for dinner.}" Shane huffs, short-sharp. Maybe laughing? Maybe irritable. Hard to say; in /posture/ he's just drooopy at B's side. "{Keep it hot for you anyway. Just in case.}" "{That,}" B accuses, "{is a crock of bullshit you don't have enough restraint for there to be /extra/ portions.}" Shane's fingers flick up and out, spattering water against B's face and the tablet in equal measure. "{... Fair,}" he does allow, though, "{but I think of you fondly while I'm eating what could be your portion. I do eat it though. With /relish/.}" "{We have food in Boston, too.}" B says this a little bit wide-eyed before adding with a giggle, "{Not that you'd be able to /tell/, how much Pa calls up /fretting/ that I'm not eating enough.}" "{Kiiind of a chronic worrier.}" Shane's brows furrow deep-creased with this, head turning to NIP teeth sharply against B's side. "{It's not like he hasn't had fucking /reason/ to fret.}" "Khhh!" B curls claws inward, pressing needle-sharp hard up against Shane's gills as ze tenses and squirms away from the touch. "{We have fewer explosions at MIT than /his/ life tends to have.}" "{Yeah until you go off doing stupid shit that fucking /invites/ them.}" Shane's own breath hisses in at the touch of claws, his own hand shooting up to thud its heel into B's ribs as he bites in, harder. "{Peter was saying -- did you see the news about the. Fucking Sentinels nabbed some mutants. Saying they're Brotherhood.}" B's claws dig in harder with a low rumble-growl. Hir breath whooshes out and in one fluidly /boneless/ motion ze twines legs around Shane's hips, contorting up and /out/ of the water to /thump/ hir twin up against the rocks. "{They're not /Brotherhood/ they're just some fucking posers. They --}" Shane's own answering growl is lower, teeth bared in fierce /delight/. He twists around forward again, hooking an arm around B's neck to yank hir out of the water now, too. His wiry arm compresses tight around hir gills. "{Who the fuck cares, you think HAMMER gives a shit? The FBI? Who's really/ goddamn Brotherhood and who -- they're terrorists. /You're/ a fucking --}" B is spluttering, a strangled sort of choking-wheeze as Shane's arm wraps around hir throat and pulls up out of the (delicious oxygenated) water. Ze plants hir palms against the rock behind hir, pushing off to twist a leg up into a position that would undoubtedly be painful if the twins /had/ normal bones. In order to deliver an awkward thump of kick over one shoulder square into Shane's chest and puuuush back. "{-- I just mean they didn't have the resources or training to --}" "{-- Fucking /murderbots/, B.}" Shane rolls back with the punch, arm sliding back (and raking claws along B's collarbone as he goes) to brace himself as he whumps down to the floor. "{Murderbots who can take mutants the fuck out. And are going to be /looking/ for you guys.}" He springs back up, just reckless-/diving/ towards B this time head-on. CHOMP CHOMP he's not over-picky as to what. B meets the force of Shane's pounce with a startled yip of pain as teeth sink in at shoulder. Hir claws grasp down into ribs, sinking in hard against gills now as hir teeth bare up to Shane. One leg hooks around and back to slam a heel solidly into the back of Shane's knees. "{So we'll be careful.}" Hir own bite is more targeted, clamping in at the side of Shane's neck as ze rolls hir twin onto his back, now. Shane's tinywhimper comes with a sudden pressing-flat of his gills, a WHOOSH-wide flare of hugeblack eyes, muscles going submissive-slack beneath B. He'd probably be turning belly-up if B didn't already have him pinned that way. "{Careful,}" he echoes, very softly, a pained rough edge to his voice and teeth gritted against the damage teeth and claws inflict. "{This is for fucking serious, B. If people find out that you're --}" B's teeth clamp down /just/ a touch harder before releasing. Ze rocks back to sit on hir heels, tongue swiping blood off hir teeth. "{So don't tell anyone.}" Shane just swallows, at this, eyes closing and his hand draping across his eyes as he catches his breath against the wet stone floor.