ArchivedLogs:Feels

Feels
Dramatis Personae Anette, Daken, Dusk	2015-08-20 "So...what now?"
Location <BOM> Common Room - Main Lodge - Ascension Island
The common room's rustic-lodge feel has been somewhat mitigated by the modern amenities inside its sturdy wooden walls. It has comfortable couches, several chairs, a refrigerator (stocked with snacks and drinks!), a pool table, a pinball machine (METALLICA!), an assortment of books, a television -- with several game systems! -- and a splendid view out the windows (when their lacy yellow curtains are drawn open) for the rest of the island. The pale wood floors have been covered in places -- by a pair of soft thick blue rugs, by a large squishy pair of beanbags that stand in front of the stone fireplace. There's also a board up on the wall, half corkboard, half whiteboard, with a variety of community notes (and occasional insults) to other Brotherhood members. Large doors on the right-hand side lead off to the kitchen and dining room. In the back of the room, the council room's heavy oak door bears solid locks that are almost never actually barred. A short hall adjacent to the council room's door leads to a trio of multi-stalled bathrooms; these might once have been marked with the typical man-woman-handicapped signs, but someone has given them new plaques on the door; a stick figure with horns and a long tail, one with wings. One -- the large single-user toilet -- has instead been given a helmet and a cape. It's been another glorious day on the island with mutants of all shapes, sizes, colors, and varying degrees of humanity running around trying to ensure the community stays afloat. The sun has began it's downward descent and that's the cue for most of the people here to begin winding down or partying. It's also the cue for Daken to make his way upward from the training area, dressed in a white tank-top, black gi pants, his fists are also wrapped. Blood spots the front of his shirt, some of it is old, and some looks to be relatively fresh. His destination is fairly obvious once he snags a large whiskey bottle from the kitchen, planting his furry self on the closest couch, and propping his bare feet up. Dusk is just coming in from outside; the salty tang of seawater still clings to his faintly damp wings. His wings are dark, shaded in grey and black to look like a swirl of stormclouds; bright flashes of jagged lightning streak down their length intermittently. He is in dark shorts, no shirt, no shoes, a thermos held in one hand. He pauses in the doorway, sniffing lightly at the air before his dark eyes skate over to Daken. "... good session?" Somehow, throughout all of the hustle and bustle of the common area, the figure beneath the blankets on the couch hasn't been disturbed. Despite nearly being sat on multiple times, nothing more than a grunt and slight repositioning has yet to escape passed the blankets wrapped about them. Indeed, it's not until the room quiets down that the figure becomes restless, tossing this way and that beneath their cocoon until a loud groan is emitted and the blanket is tossed aside, revealing a very exhausted looking Anette. Her attempts to look about the room and hindered by her mostly closed eyes, though Dusk's voice makes its way through her hungover brain. "Hey...Batboy..." she grumbles, still trying to wake her eyes up. Slowly, Daken fades into focus and, though she remains silent, any psionics in the room might hear a very loud and distinct /'Fuck'/. "Good enough that I'm not pulling punches against a few of the people here anymore. Broke my nose twice." Daken indicated the blood on his shirt like it wasn't obvious. And hearing Anette's voice doesn't appear to shock him. "So I was watching the news, and it looks like we could be having riots soon. So, as your attorney I advice you to take care of whatever you have to do now." "Things certainly haven't been, uh, /easier/ in the city, that's for sure." Dusk doesn't sound particularly /upset/ about this, just -- a statement. "More shit being thrown at me than usual. -- You need a glass of water or something?" His wing is stretching out, brushing absently against Anette's arm. "Was that whole thing your plan or Ion's?" "Fucking Ion's...granted, it sounded like a great plan at a time." Anette rubs her eyes and nods softly. "Water would be fantastic." With a sigh, she throws the blanket off of her, stretching her own wings and arms out. "Take care of things? I don't have any things to take care of. Right now my plan consists of hiding here and drinking until...how long is the statute of limitations for destroying sentinels?" "There isn't one, I'd move out before your landlord snitches on you." Daken takes a swig from his bottle, leaning his head back to look at the ceiling. "I need to get out and take care of some business, preferably before I have to worry about getting shot at while I do it." "Why would /you/ get shot at?" Dusk snorts outright at this, raising his brows as he looks over at Daken. "You walk down the street, nobody's going to look at you twice." He hoists himself up to sit on the back of Anette's couch, leg propped on its arm. "Statute of limitations on property damage, I dunno. But if they're gonna go the terrorism route --" One of his wings shrugs. His teeth flash in a sudden quick smile. "Ion has a lot of ideas that sound like great plans at the time. /Especially/ when booze is involved. Oh man. Most of them seem to end with shit on fire, though, why is that?" "Right. How terribly inconvenienced you must be being shot. Not like you spit the bullets back out or anything," Anette grumbles, still trying to rub the sleep from her eyes. "Shit, I fucked up. There's no chance of everyone just forgetting this, is there? Waiting for it to blow over?" "Why would /I/ get shot at?" Daken arches a brow. "Probably because I wouldn't give them the illusion I was one of them, I'll march down the street with my claws out if I have to. Not gonna sit back and watch my brothers and sisters get the shit kicked out of them and not say something." His gaze turns to Anette, "I heal fast, but it still hurts." That is said quietly. "And if they don't pursue domestic terrorist charges, three years." "Well --" Dusk considers this, rubbing a hand slowly at the back of his neck. "I -- doubt it'll be easy to just erase it all from people's /minds/ but. These things usually blow over eventually. And once it's not so fresh in everyone's memory, erasing shit from police databases --" His wing shrugs again. "Is -- not /easy/. But easier." Anette looks up at Dusk in surprise. "You can do that? You /would/ do that?" Anette grins and leans back against the couch. "Well...that's a relief. Remind me not to kill Ion next time I see him. Though he didn't leave me behind when I was hit by the tranq dart so...I guess we're even." Daken's comment about not watching Brothers and Sisters get shit kicked out of them is met with an odd choking sound, like a badly suppressed laugh. "I asked you several times to stop attacking people. If your life was in danger I'd have stepped in." Is all Daken has to say to the sound Anette makes. "But it's easy to paint me as the bad guy, I have done the worst stuff. You could even all my a psychopath, which I'm sure you have. Whatever you have to do to get through the day." "Yeah. Well no. I mean, I /would/, sure. I can't -- on my own. But with B's help I can do a lot, she's a goddamn genius. With her I'll --" Another small shrug from Dusk. "We'll do what we can. And Ion's a good guy. Not the most foresight, I mean, but whatever trouble he gets into -- s'/always/ gonna have your back." He leans back against the couch, lifting the thermos to take a slow sip. His eyes level on Daken, a little bemused. "Are you two going to have some kind of -- I mean, if you have shit to work through I could -- leave?" Anette noticably cringes at the word B. "Crap, I /might/ have burned that bridge, too." She groans and buries her face in her hands. "At this point...might as well just turn myself in and hope for the best." At the suggestion of being left alone, Anette looks up suddenly. "No, stay, we're fine. Now that I know where his priorities lie, we're absolutely fine now." It's Daken's turn to snort a laugh. "My priorities were trying to get you to stop doing coke and to stop trying to kill B and Rasa. If I came across as an asshole, or like a commanding prick it wasn't my intention. But whatever it was, I loved, lost, so fuck it." He raises the bottle to that and turns the bottom skywards. "With B?" Dusk's lips press slightly together. His wings drape downward, tucked close against his back. "I mean, you wouldn't be the first person to try and kill her. You get past these things, y'know? Though I wouldn't advise trying to kill more of her friends, she'll hold grudges on /that/." His wings shift as he lies back against the back of the couch; one falls lazily down towards the floor, the other pooling against the couch cushions. "You really thinking about turning yourself in? Cuz I -- am not a lawyer but -- I mean, shit, /Kay's/ been on the FBI most wanted list for fucking /ever/ and he's still running around doing just fine. Turning yourself /in/ sounds like a fast track to hell." "No, your priorities were trying to find out more about your fucking father. As soon as you knew she had information, you threw me to the side," Anette yells, glaring at Daken. "And will you stop saying you loved me? You didn't. You just...you didn't, alright?" She pulls her legs onto the couch, wrapping her arms around them as she leans up against the back, staring at Dusk. "Why not? What else do I have around here? I have no where to live, I'm a risk for the Brotherhood, I'm a drugged, alcoholic psycopath who can't differentiate reality from fiction, and I lost the only thing keeping my head on the ground. Maybe the psych ward of prison is a good thing." "I did do that, and I was wrong." Daken acknowledges. "And I wouldn't have said I fucking loved you if I didn't. I just picked a hell of a way to show it." Dusk squeezes his eyes shut tightly. He fists up one hand, scrubbing his knuckles against his eyes. Then his cheek. Then dropping his hand to his chest. "You know you can live here, right?" "That'd be great except for the whole 'risk to everyone here' bit and the 'gradually losing my mind' stuff." Anette says, rubbing her eyes. "Please, just stop saying that...even if you did, you shouldn't. I mean, how are you supposed to become a better person when you have me pulling you down?" "If I thought you were dragging me down I would have said something." Daken turns his attention towards Dusk. "And I thought /I/ was emotionally unresponsive. At least I can admit when I have feelings for somebody without trying to sabotage it." "Feel like if Regan was worried about you /she'd/ talk to you herself. And until she says so, you'll have a home here. We all do. As for your mind --" Dusk's fingers drum slowly against his thermos. "Well. There's therapy." He squints an eye open, lifting a hand palm outward towards Daken. "Oh-ho-ho no. Don't look at me, I am /not/ getting in the middle of your --" His hands shift, signing something before he vocalizes: "Drama." "Don't do this to me Daken," Anette says, rolling her eyes. "You knew I didn't do the whole dating, fall in love, actually care about another human being thing. Yet you still pushed me into it. Do you have any idea how terrifying it's been? And then watching me sabotage it, watching it fall apart from the inside. Yes, I cut it loose. No, I don't regret. Yes, I'd do it again. And yes...it hurt like hell which is probably why this is the closest to sober I've been in a week." She turns to Dusk with a sigh, leaning up against the couch again, her wings falling limply behind her. "Fine, yeah, maybe I'll stay here. For as long as I'm able anyway." "I regret it. Should have stayed the same self serving asshole you hooked up with here. Better than this, one of the few times I've wished I could eat a bullet." Daken turns his bottle up once more, except this time it doesn't come down for a few long moments. "Another day in paradise." Dusk's eyes scrunch back closed. His hand drags down the side of his face, slowly. At length he pushes himself upright, sliding down to the floor. One wing brushes at Anette's before both of his wings tuck back behind his back. "Iiiit still sounds like you two have shit to work out." He lifts his thermos in a salute to the others, turning to start out to the kitchen. "Good luck with that." "No, please! I'm sorry Dusk!" Anette says frantically, leaning up and actually reaching out to him. Apparently she is really not in the mood to face her own feelings right now. Daken pushes to his feet. "Nothing to work out, I'm a piece of shit. Think she made that clear." He taps out a salute before making for the porch. "You both take care." Dusk's eyes widen, his wings curling around himself as Anette reaches out. "Wo-o-oah. Uhh." He shifts another step back towards the kitchen. "I'm going to get you that water. But then maaaybe some sleep would be good. Or like a nice walk. Clear your head some? Seems like you have a -- lot. Going on lately." "You really don't get it, do you?" Anette finally says, ignoring Dusk now and turning back to Daken. "I'm the piece of shit. I love you and I let you go because I didn't want to hurt you. Yeah, the whole thing with Rasa hurt but I...it was just the final straw. I realized I loved you and I saw you trying to become better and I knew I couldn't do that so I just...I ran." Daken turns to look back at Anette. "The thing is, you can. It's not easy though. I see people I want to be a dick to, or even fucking kill every day. And it's hard not to. But running, drinking, or snorting won't make the right choice any easier, it just makes the wrong choice sound better. Except then you sober up and realize what kind of mistakes you've made. Like sobering up and seeing your face all over the news. Forgiveness is the first step, but not forgiving others, you need to forgive yourself." The tip of Dusk's wing is scrubbing against his face, now. Quietly, he slips out of the room, leaving the other two to their conversation. "So then what? I just magically turn myself around? I drink and snort because it's the only thing that helps. So what do I do then? Just suffer through it?" Anette can't help but laugh as Daken suggests forgiving herself. "And what do I forgive myself for? For falling for you which is what made everything go to hell in the future? If I hadn't fallen for you, I wouldn't have had the pain of losing you and losing Hiro. So yeah, once I felt it happening now, I panicked." "You forgive yourself for whatever you need to." Daken heads back over to sit on the couch. "And you falling for me didn't ruin the future. If those bigots weren't elected and the sentinels were never weaponized it would have been us raising Hiro in a place of our own instead of that damn apartment. But if we try and stop them with violent means it'll just happen sooner, and if we do nothing it'll happen pretty much the same way. Damned regardless." "There will never not be a threat. And I will never stop fighting. And if we stay...like this, we'll only be each other's weaknesses. If we have a family --god forbid-- it's only times a thousand. This is, of course, assuming we're actually good for each other and I'm not still sabotaging your efforts to be better than I can be." Anette continues to sit on the couch in the fetal position, her chin on her knees. "Part of the problem is the fact that you keep looking at it as a weakness." Daken reaches up to rub at his neck, sighing quietly. "Not like you ever really have to worry about somebody killing me. Except maybe Regan." "That doesn't mean I don't feel for you when you do get hurt. Remember the mugging?" Anette says quietly, drumming her talons against her legs. "It is a weakness. I don't see how you don't see that. Sixty something years of living and you've never seen that?" "I haven't really had another person I've been close with since I watched Akihira blow his brains out." Daken replies with a slight shrug. "Playing all this by ear." "Well, I've never been close to anyone before so at least you have some idea of what you're doing," Anette grumbles, shrugging her shoulders lightly. "So...what now?" "Don't think my adoptive father counts." Daken shoots Anette the closest thing to a grin he can manage. "What now? Whatever you decide. Either I can leave, or we can watch Netflix." His shoulders lift in a slight shrug. Anette purses her lips together slightly in thought and glances towards the TV. "Netflix sounds alright, I guess."