ArchivedLogs:Awkward Questions

Awkward Questions
Dramatis Personae Doug, Eric, Sebastian, Shane
In Absentia	2013-03-06 '
Location <NYC> [Tompkins Square Park] - East Village
Small but popular, this tree-lined park is a perfect centerpiece to the eclectic neighborhood it resides in. Home to a number of playgrounds and courts from handball to basketball, it also houses a dog park and chess tables, providing excellent space for people watching -- especially during its frequent and often eccentric festivals, from Wigstock to its yearly Allen Ginsberg tribute Howl festival. "-- On the plus side," Shane is saying this with all evidence of seriousness, perched on a swing on the playground at Tompkins Square, "if he's dead he can't see how much I fucking failed that history exam. Shit." Though the weather's mild enough in the mid-forties for the park to be reasonably busy, this /particular/ playground holds no inhabitants past the twin teenagers. Possibly due to the way Shane /grins/ -- so cheerful! so welcoming! -- at anyone who comes by. He's rocking himself slowly back and forth on the swing, not working up a great deal of momentum. Just kind of a sway. His clothes are dark contrast to blue skin; black peacoat, deep grey trousers, polished shoes. Sebastian is brighter. In dress, at least; his sweatshirt is light yellow, with an image of Fluttershy on the chest and its own pink mane and pony ears on the hood. His corduroys are very purple, his platform sneakers pink. He's swinging much higher, at least until this comment, when his sneakers come down to skid against the mulch as he looks at Shane with eyes wide. "/Shane/ --" It almost sounds chiding. He /frowns/ at his brother. "-- I gave you notes for that and everything." Doug is also in the park, today, dressed in jeans and a pair of sturdy hiking boots, with a blue-and-red striped rugby shirt under a battered denim jacket. A pair of /way/ too fuzzy for the temperature earmuffs cover his ears -- well, one ear. The other is covered by his cell phone, which he is talking into, his voice rising as he nears the playground. "/No/, Mom. I can't do it. I've got /mid-terms/, that's why!" He pauses, and frowns deeply, turning to face the swings as he continues talking. The gaze that falls on the twins is briefly absent before he nods, turning to growl his next response. "And because he's a mouth-breather who eats entire too much garlic. I'd puke halfway through the second course." Another pause. "/NO./ No. No. I'll call you after, though. /No./ Love you." Then he's clicking the phone shut and sighing deeply as he pockets it and heads towards the twins. "What's up, guys?" Passing by the fence of Tompkin's Square, Eric's attention is focused on the phone in his hands and the smooth working of his thumb over the surface of the screen. Mid-text, it rings, and he stops to lean against the fence and lift the phone to his head. "This is Eric." His eyes turn skywards as he listens, scratching at his forehead idly with one hand. "Oh, heya, Sarge. What's up?" He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cigarette, popping it into his lips and tugging out a lighter. "Uh, no, I don't think IAB has finished yet, so you should ask the Lieu. I'm happy to take it if I've been cleared for getting up from my desk ever again." Another pause. "Yeah, sure. Go ahead and let me know. I'm free." He hangs up and lights the cigarette, pocketing the lighter and taking a long drag as he straightens back up and glances around. "Gorram finals," Shane grumbles, up towards the sky, "or, I mean, there /were/ finals. Done now. Thank fucking /Frith/." And then, all of a sudden, his head is turning, sharply. Towards Eric's voice, or maybe the lighting of that cigarette. His nostrils flare, sniffing; first towards Eric, then towards Doug. The smile that spreads across his face is /sudden/ and wide, and on his next upward swing he jumps down off the seat, landing in the mulch with a crunch of shoes. "Hey, congratu/lations/," he tells Doug with that sudden bright smile still in place, and then to Eric: "/Hey/. You got one of those for me?" He's reaching out towards the fence with a typical smoker's 'gimme' motion. Not nearly close enough to /actually/ reach the fence, though. He's apparently trying to mooch /and/ make Eric come to him for the privilege of being mooched from. Sebastian looks over, too. First towards Doug, then towards Eric. He groans, and rests his head against one of the chains of the swing. "Hi, Doug," he says, managing a quick closed-lipped smile a good deal smaller than his brother's toothy one. "Shane, c'/mon/, you can't --" He frowns, rubbing his cheek against his knuckles. "How're you?" he asks Doug, instead. "Tell me about it," Doug says, his mouth pulling downward. "I've been knee-deep in getting ready for mid-terms, so I feel your pain. Or half of it, I guess, since it's mid-terms." He grins, the expression faltering into confusion for the sudden congratulations, and his gaze tracks over to Eric. "Congratulations? For wha -- " Then realization floods his face, along with a healthy amount of blood. "Oh," is mild and uncomfortable, and the blonde shifts his weight, glancing at the younger teen and cop before he answers Sebastian. "Getting along," he says, the color not fading, but localizing in his ears, now. "My mom is trying to get me to 'fill a seat' at some fundraiser tomorrow night, but that's code for 'entertain the son of some potential donator.'" Eric turns in surprise, smoke trailing along behind him. "Oh, hey, Shane." His eyes flick over the park, and his lips quirk up into a bemused smile. "Sebastian. Doug." he reaches back into his pocket, tugging out the pack of cigarettes even as he steps over to round around the fence. He glances into it and frowns at Shane. "I'm running low, damn you." he says, tapping it out against his palm. Still, he opens the case and holds it out for Eric. "Is that such a hardship? Nice dinner, presumably nice guy.... If I wasn't, ya'know, me, I'd love to go to those kind of events. All that fancy food..." he trails off, stomach grumbling. "What d'you mean for what, s'not every day some dude pops your cherry," Shane says. "Only one day your whole life, in fact, /I/ think that deserves a celebration. He leans in to take the cigarette from Eric, beckoning after it's between his lips for a light as well. "I mean, it /smelled/ like you had a good time, anyway. Did it help with studying for your midterms?" There's /definitely/ amusement in his eyes, here. "Fundraiser for what?" "Oh my /gosh/, /Shane/." Sebastian's cheeks are darkening; he looks mildly horrified as he looks between his brother and Eric and Doug. "I'm sorry," he apologizes to Doug, "My brother is -- wait, /smelled/, how do you -- oh my gosh, he /didn't/." Now both his hands are clapping to his face, his swing slowly stabilizing itself. "You know, maybe /you'd/ have done better on your finals if you actually studied for them instead of trying to put /Pa/ in an early grave!" Doug's face is nearly purple as Shane explains, his eyes flicking to Eric briefly with some unreadable expression. If his face gets any hotter, there might be actual steam rising from his skin, and his jaw works as he processes all the pieces provided. There's a slow swallow, and with another flick of eyes around the other three, he replies in a hoarse, dry-sounding voice. "She's raising money for some senator. She charges poor suckers a couple grand a plate, and it's exactly as boring as something like that sounds." Eric looks unabashed at the discussion of his sex life, and he digs into his pocket to come out with a lighter. He reaches over and lights the cigarette, though this takes a couple attempts with his shitty drug-store lighter. He meets Doug's eyes with a little shrug of his shoulders. "Free food is free food, though." he points out, with a twisting smile. "And if you're paying a thousand dollars a plate, then it better be /good/ free food." "Shit, yeah, actually that sounds like a great time." Shane lifts his hand to cup Eric's as the cop lights his cigarette, fingers brushing down the older man's knuckles when he moves back to take a deep drag. "Good food, get to doll up and look like hot shit for the night. Some good senator or some shitty senator? I guess if it's some shitty one at least you've got some dude to distract you through the night." He drops his hand, exhaling a stream of smoke, and studies Eric for a long moment, and then Doug. "Was he good?" It's hard to tell which of the two he's directing this question to. "/Shane/, that's not a /question/ you ask in front of --" Sebastian is still scrubbing at his cheek. "You know," he tells Eric, "sleeping with him is /still/ a felony." All the color drains /out/ of Doug's face at that little shrug, and his eyes narrow at the older man. "I'll call my mother and tell her you'd like to attend," he says in a cool voice, shoving his hands in his pockets and using one to flap at Eric. "She'd jump at one of New York's...finest...in his dress uniform. And I'm certain you'd have a lot in common." He shrugs at Shane. "I dunno. I haven't checked him out. The guy she wants to sit me next to I /do/ know, and would rather poke my eyes out with a hot skewer than spend four hours with him." All of this is in a voice that borders on frosty, and he presses his lips /tight/ at the final question, paling further, but otherwise saying nothing. Eric gives Shane a /look/. "Come on, now." he says, crossing his arms over his chest as the cigarette hangs loosely between his lips. He glances between Doug and Shane, a faint look of bemusement showing through the disapproving look. "Your brother's ri'. You just don't ask that." He gives Sebastian a brief glance, though he doesn't respond to his question as he turns his attention back to Doug with a warmer smile and a laugh. "I doubt your ma' would want me anywhere near a fancy party, uniform or no. My sarge gave up tryin' to get me to talk to the press. My official line is". He clears his throat. "'No Comment'." These two words, it seems, he can manage to say without the thick Georgian drawal. "My brother has more manners than I do. I just wanted to know. I mean he's cute, he's smart, he lives in my building." Shane turns a hand up in front of himself. He wanders back over towards the swings, pushing Sebastian's to start the other boy moving again. Gently, at first. Then faster. "C'mon," he taps the empty one he recently vacated, "You know you want a turn." Sebastian's hands curl around the chains of the swing. He tries hard to keep a grouchyface on but it's /hard/ when there is /swing/ happening. His legs swing out, then back in. "-- Oh my gosh don't /say/ that," he says to Doug. "You seem nice your parents are probably fine people who have nothing in common with -- I mean do they sleep with teenagers? Do they ticket people who just saved them from an attack?" "-- Do they have /muscles/ like that?" is Shane's interjected additional query on the likeness between Eric and Doug's parents. He is /eying/ the muscles. Doug lifts his eyebrows, his color returning with his equilibrium. "You should go," he says to Eric. "There's very little press at these things, and my mother could sell another full table in an hour, with an in-the-news celebrity there." He smiles a tight smile, and wrinkles his nose. "It's free food and an evening with a nice guy, after all. /Good/ free food." Sebastian's question gets a laugh, but Doug offers no answer beyond a shake of his head. Shane's question doesn't even get that. Eric's eyes fix on Sebastian, and a frown comes over his face. "You should be careful talking about things you don't understand." he says, and annoyance is back in his voice. He takes another drag on his cigarette, deeper this time. "Send the invite. I'd have to clear it with the brass before I can go." he says, with a little bit of a shrug and a small smile. "But I like free food." Sebastian slides down out of his swing, sneakers skidding on the mulch as he turns narrowed eyes on his brother. "{Please stop,}" he says, not even angry but /tired/, in their native Vietnamese, "{because what /I/ understand is that Jax is getting ready to /die/ to help people and /you're/ screwing a guy who /preys/ on teenagers and hides behind his badge like that's an /excuse/ for doing the wrong thing. Pa doesn't need the stress right now and /you/ deserve better.}" His hand is still wrapped around the chain of the swing, slim shoulders slumping down to support his weight against it. "Yessir," is flatter, /dutiful/ and otherwise emotionless, "I should be careful." "{You know he can understand you, right.}" Shane says this kind of just /informative/ and not really /concerned/, nodding towards Doug. His gaze shifts away, though, at Sebastian's words, his gills flaring out quickly. "Hey," he says, and this is to Eric, his tone less brash than his earlier flippancy, "He understands a lot. Don't get pissy with him. He doesn't -- things have just been rough." Doug's smile is tight, and slides to one side as Eric agrees. "Excellent. You won't be sorry." Which sounds /totally/ convincing. Then his eyebrows pop up when Sebastian starts speaking, and he tilts his head, listening for a moment, and Shane's comment gets a chuff of laughter, confirming the information. "I'd say he understands things just fine," he says to Eric when everyone shifts back to English. "Better than I did, anyway." Eric's eyes shift back and forth between Sebastian and Shane for several seconds, smoke breathing out of his nose as he takes several deep breaths. Then he pulls the cigarette out of his lips, eyes ending back on Sebastian. He takes several steps forward, sitting down on the swing next to the twins, though he does not lift his feet off of his ground and he takes another long drag of his cigarette. "What would you have had me do, Sebastian, hmm?" he says, turning to look at the teenager with a flat expression. "I'm an officer of the law, and my sergeant gave me a direct order. If I hadn't done it, I would have been fired, and when your Pa tore up the ticket from him, he would have gotten beaten and arrested for his troubles. How is that better?" "He's the smart one," Shane says to Doug, and it's a little wry as he, too, leans against the swing, arm hooking around both the chain and Sebastian's arm to rest his forehead nearby his brother's. He straightens, though, so that he can take another puff of cigarette and /not/ blow it out into Sebastian's face. "I don't think there are any good choices here." Sebastian is quiet, his gills fluttering rapidly. "{Sorry,}" he says, and though he doesn't look away from Shane it's likely this is to Doug, because it's followed by, "{You didn't need to hear our -- family drama.}" He turns around when Shane moves away, slumping down onto the swing again, his toes still on the ground to rock himself slowly. "I don't know," he admits, a little unhappy with this admission, "this whole thing is just so --" Another quiet, another flutter of gills, his expression uncomfortable. His shoulders slump. "I don't know." Doug lifts a shoulder at Sebastian's apology, his attention on Eric as he moves to join the twins. He listens to the quiet exchange, and shifts uncomfortably. "This sounds kind of personal," he says, liberating his hands from his pockets. "And really none of my business, ultimately, so I'm going to take off." He lifts a hand at the trio, already backing away. "I'll call my mother," he promises over his shoulder. "Dress uniform, 8 o'clock. She'll give you the rest of the details." This is most likely to Eric, although Doug doesn't look back as he walks away to verify it. "I'll see you guys later." Then he's /really/ taking off, head ducked deep into his jacket. You can almost /see/ the black cloud forming over him as he goes. Eric turns and waves at Doug. "I'll call my brass." he gives a smile at the other man, but it slowly fades as he turns to look at the twins. He picks up his feet and takes one, two, half-hearted swings before he puts his feet down on the ground. "My ma' used to tell me that there were some problems that don't have a good solution. I always thought that was just an excuse to make bad decisions, but these days..." he chuckles, once, lifting the cigarette and taking a long drag and letting the smoke curl into the air. "Well." "See you," Shane says, his smile toothy though he doesn't seem to take quite as much relish in it as before. He stands between the two swings, pressing a hand to Eric's back to give him a firmer push. Then Sebastian. The cigarette hangs half-forgotten between his lips. "People don't need excuses to make bad decisions, they'll do plenty of /that/ no matter what. You know, I don't think he's inviting you to this thing cuz he's thrilled with you." "Yeah, you caught that?" Sebastian's lips twitch. But not for long. He is content to go along with Shane's pushes, not working to swing faster and not stopping it either. "These days there's a /lot/ of bad decisions out there --" he agrees, but then /frowns/. He looks aside at Eric, and up over at his brother. "Hey, wait, I'm not getting sidetracked here. You two /still/ shouldn't be -- do you have any idea how stressed this -- thing --" His hand flaps between the two of them, "makes Pa?" Eric laughs, shaking his head as he looks sideways at the twins. "Yeah, I noticed. I may be a dumb cop, but I'm not that dumb." he drawls, with a lilting smile. He shakes his head. "The brass isn't going to let me go anywhere. They don't let officers under investigation by the rat squad go out to fancy dinners with senators." he says, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and holding it between two fingers as he looks up towards the sky. "I don't mean to cause your Pa any distress." A beat, and his lips quirk into a smile. "'Fact is, I was actually lookin' for your pa, not Shane." "Why is the rat squad investigating you?" Shane's brows raise, a hint of a smirk on his lips. "Yeah, he was trying to work his way through the whole family." Another push, first to Eric and then to Sebastian. Not hard, just slow swings. "I don't see why it matters who I fuck," he adds, to Sebastian. "It's not like I didn't want to. He gets stressed too much." "He gets stressed because he /cares/ about you and he thinks he's not a good enough parent." Sebastian rests his head against the chain, legs swinging slowly along with Shane's pushes. "-- Ew, Shane, that's gross. Why /were/ you looking for my pa?" Eric lifts his feet, putting his cigarette back into his lips as he holds the chains. "Someone tried to kill me." he says, with a little shrug of his shoulders and a faint frown on his face. "It's standard when there's an officer involved shooting." He crosses his legs at the ankle and shrugs. "I wanted to talk to your Pa about what I was hearing. Did you pass it along, Shane?" "/Woah/ holy shit are you no that's a dumb question of course you're fucking holy shit. Uh who why?" This information does not stop Shane's pushing. He pushes Eric a little harder. Maybe he can /swing/ away the frown. "Yeah I did but what the fuck kill you? -- Who'd you fuck?" "-- What." Sebastian's eyes widen. He opens his mouth, and then clamps it down /hard/. And just listens for answer. "I don't know. All I know is someone broke into my apartment while I was there and tried to kill me. Someone was pissed enough to hire a professional." Eric says, softly. "Funny thing is, I have no idea for what." he lies, turning to the twins with a warm smile. "I assume it was work related. I can't imagine that anyone was pissed about me sleeping with their wives - or husbands - to hire a hitman." "Come on you can't be serious. Someone tries to off you and you don't have /any/ idea why? I'm pretty sure /even/ in New York people don't just go around hiring /hitmen/ to off /cops/ all the time." /This/ is surprising enough that now Shane does stop pushing the swings. He slips between them, around front to face Eric and Sebastian, resting a hand on each of their knees to stabilize them. For a moment, at least, before plucking his cigarette from his lips. "What trouble did you get yourself into?" "Man, if he's got a hitman after him do you /want/ to know?" Sebastian frowns at Shane. "It's not like they can really hurt him." He frowns up at the sky, next, and, quieter: "S'gonna rain." Eric looks at Sebastian with a look of surprise. "Quite right. Whatever it is, I don't want you two involved." he says, softly. "If they're willing to go after a cop, they're willing to do anything." he says, shrugging his shoulders. He looks at Shane and gives another little shrug. "I'm not sure exactly. I have a guess or two, but.... I'll know more when the detectives finish their investigation." Shane frowns at Eric. Frowns at Sebastian. He is quiet a long moment, and then he looks at up the sky, too. "-- Yeah," ie all he says, "it is. C'mon." He jerks his head back in the direction of their apartment. "Good luck," he says to Eric. "Don't get murdered." "That's grim." Sebastian's nose wrinkles at Shane's parting words. He slides out of the swing, his lips setting thin. He looks back at Eric like he's going to say something more -- but doesn't. He hooks his arm through Shane's instead, ducking his head and sticking close to his brother's side as he starts away. "Yeah. I'll try. Tell your Pa..." Eric trails off, pursing his lips. "Nevermind." he says, shrugging his shoulders once with a small smile. "Have a good one, Shane, Sebastian." he says. He stands up from the swing, stretching out and heading towards a different exit of the park.