Logs:Tendencies

Tendencies
cn: some careless/stigmatizing discussion of bpd
Dramatis Personae Lucien, Matt, Steve
In Absentia	2020-09-13 "I'm sure on any given day you can find armchair psychologists on Twitter diagnosing him with half of the DSM and drawing wildly incoherent conclusions about his love life."
Location <PRV> Tessier Residence - Backyard - Greenwich Village
Living in the heart of Manhattan means space is precious, and as such, the yard behind this house is small. It is as exquisitely well-kept as the rest of the place, though; all available space has been meticulously cultivated and transformed into a lush retreat from the concrete and asphalt of the city. The borders of the garden are lined in a wealth of flowers, the selection chosen to provide a panoply of color in all seasons save winter. A grassy rock-bordered pathway separates these from the raised-bed vegetable garden that dominates its center. The far left corner of the garden plays host to a tiny rock-lined pond, goldfish and a pair of turtles living in its burbling water. To one side of the pond is a garden table and set of chairs and presiding over the pond, a large oak tree with a hammock underneath, its branches spreading out over the tall brick wall that screens the entire area off from the city outside. Soon enough, it will be crowded in the house, packed with a gaggle of nerds and nerd-adjacent folk descending on the Tessiers for Dawson's Game Night. The kitchen -- neatly arrayed with dishes and drinks and snacks laid out, smelling warm and sweet from fresh baking -- has been tidied up and ready for a short time now, and now Lucien is relaxing in the yard, dressed for the pleasantly mild weather in neatly tailored dark blue jeans, a forest green slim-fit seersucker button-down, a grey vest. There is tea on the table, scones and jam and clotted cream besides, but at the moment in lieu of any food he is lazily tugging on one end of a knotted rope, not bothering to get up from his chair for this game. At the other end, Flèche is far more invested in this game, paws planted firmly and soft growls in her throat as her head thrashes one way and then another. "...and then he just -- stormed out," Steve concludes his story, subsiding into his seat a bit as he pulls apart a scone on his plate and applies jam to it. "Thank God he wasn't hurt, but I'm sure your week's been a mess over the arrest, not to mention that video." He's dressed a bit more casually than his host, in a sky blue t-shirt with a fierce winged wolf crushing a thick length of chain in its snarling jaws, one of its paws pinning down the broken chain, bracketed by the words '107th, Howling Commandos', and 'Vérité sans Peur' in bold jagged script, perfectly fitted blue jeans, and polished combat boots. His shield leans casually against the left side of his chair, and his right hand is, as usual, neatly bandaged. "That video was a delight, though," Matt opines, bony hands cupped around his tea. He looks fearfully gaunt, his blue t-shirt (with a cartoon figure on it reading beneath an arch of books, captioned 'Best time machine EVER!') and gray cargo shorts alike hanging dreadfully loose, his skin pale and ashen over sunken cheeks, though his eyes are bright enough today. "{If you are much tempted to blame yourself,}" he adds, switching fluidly to French, "{I urge you to lay off it. You could not have foreseen that and I doubt you could have kept him from taking off again, once it became clear he would not achieve his objective.}" "A delight for you, perhaps. My inbox has yet to recover. Still, it is far from the worst impropriety I have had to smooth over for him." Lucien tugs with a little more vigor at the rope, letting it go quickly when Flèche responds by readjusting her grip -- a little too close to his fingers. Triumphant, the dog races off with it to settle down by the pond, gnawing on one of the knots. "{I could have foreseen it.}" There is very little apology in his tone, just a quiet thought. "{I am only sorry I did not caution you away from that relationship while it was still new, and avoid the inevitable turmoil. A lesson for the future, I suppose.}" He wipes his hand against his napkin, smoothing the cloth out on his lap after. Steve's head gives a small shake. "{I don't think I'm responsible for it -- exactly? I'm mostly just confused. I keep reading over the text, trying to figure out how he could have thought the appropriate response was -- that.}" His lips compress. "{Whatever that was. I'm still not convinced he wasn't ah, under the influence of something or other.}" He looks up from his liberally dressed scone to Lucien, brows furrowing. "{Does he -- have a tendency to do this sort of thing?}" "{He might well have read what he wanted into your text no matter what you wrote.}" Matt sips his tea slowly. "{Save perhaps the likes of 'I never want to see you again'. I cannot tell you what substance he may or may not have consumed, but the man does have, as you say, a tendency. He hasn't pulled that precise stunt that I'm aware of, but it's certainly not the first time he's turned up unannounced in the middle of the night to court someone.}" Lucien's eyes flick briefly to his brother, his lips thinning just slightly. "{You are exceedingly generous to call his overtures here courtship.}" He curls his fingers around his cup, lifting it for a small sip. "{But yes. At this point I would go so far as to call it a pattern. Whatever his charms, when it comes to impulse control he can be a bit lacking.}" Steve's eyes skip between the Tessiers, appraising. "Wait...{did he do this, or something like this, to one of you, too?}" His gaze settles on Lucien, evidently taking a guess on which one. "{But he is, ah...one of your clients, no?}" "{Him, not me,}" Matt says easily. "{Mind you, I looked then about how I look now. It was early on in their professional relationship, and Ryan got a touch...}" He wavers, searching for a word. "{...overly attached? It was well before he found widespread success, so he could ill-afford to see Luci as often as he liked and this led to some hijinks.}" Lucien exhales a breath, soft and sharp. "{Yes, just a touch.}" His tone is aggressively mild, his fingers curled tighter around his cup. "{I tend to be extremely stringent about my professional boundaries.}" He takes another sip of tea, longer, slower, his grip relaxed by the time he swallows. "{And Ryan tends to bulldoze right through them on the slightest whim. There is, admittedly, a certain charm to all his whirlwhind grandiosity. Right up until there is not.}" "{This sounds like it was a distressing time for you,}" Steve allows, with a quick darting glance at Matt. "{It's...not that I never noticed he was impulsive.}" He pauses for a sip of his own tea. "I haven't any stones to throw on that front, {but this...}" He shakes his head. "{It was as if he just took my wanting to talk to him as invitation to resume our relationship on the spot.}" He looks back up at Lucien. "{But, you seemed to have worked through it? Your relationship now -- it isn't so...overly attached?}" "{I don't think that it's just about impulsivity, per se,}" Matt says, "{although he is also that. There is a lot about how Ryan relates that may not be immediately obvious...}" He frowns thoughtfully. "{I do not mean to suggest he is deceptive about it, but rather he does work at managing those tendencies. So you might not have taken notice before, during the more stable days of your friendship. But I think the particular manner in which you two ended up dating may have inadvertently set him up for taking an unhealthy interest in you.}" Lucien reaches to break an edge off of his scone, glancing briefly once more to his brother and then down at his plate. "{He does,}" he allows. "I suppose none of us get to choose our personality disorders. Still --" He leans back in his chair, studying his tea more intently than necessary. "{He won't be home until November, and I hope for both your sakes that that will be well enough time for this particular obsession to have fled.}" "Personality disorder?" Steve repeats, perplexed. "How can a personality be --" He cuts himself off. "Well, no, I've met some pretty rancid personalities, but still. Modern psychiatry sure has a lot of disorders." He looks down at his scone, uncharacteristically reluctant for the moment to eat. "{I hope so. I -- he seemed furious when he left. I would hate to lose his friendship because I sent him an ill-timed text.}" "Borderline, specifically," Matt adds lightly, "though I'm sure on any given day you can find armchair psychologists on Twitter diagnosing him with half of the DSM and drawing wildly incoherent conclusions about his love life." He half-hides his expression behind the edge of his teacup. "And that's saying a lot considering his love life. {But I think that, between time away from you and the support that he has, Ryan will very likely come around.}" He lowers his mug, stretches out a skeletal hand to lay on Steve's arm. "{I think you're well worth it to him.}" "Goodness. I was about to say -- you worked in food service, you should be well equipped to answer that question." Lucien looks away -- nominally towards where Flèche still lies by the pond, now staring intently at the fish within. "{If you lose his friendship it will not be because of your text. It seems -- unlike, though. Whatever may have transpired last you saw him, he does care for you quite deeply. He just --}" Another small compression of lips. "{Could choose better, sometimes, how to show it.}" Steve nods. Covers Matt's gaunt hand gently with his twisted, injured one. "{Thank you, both of you. I feel badly talking about him like this, I just --}" He sucks in a deep breath. "{Just didn't know what to make of what happened. I'd rather not lose our friendship to a lack of understanding, either.}" His head nods, indicative of some unvoiced decision made. "{I'll let him alone for now, and learn what I can about this border line of his.}"