ArchivedLogs:Functional

Functional
Dramatis Personae Sebastian, Missy	2014-04-06 '
Location <XS> Rasa and Sebastian's Dorm - FL2
A standard, if comfortable, dorm room. Two beds, two closets, two desks. Rasa's side of the room is colorful. Ze's hung up scarves and veils from all over the world, most of them with gorgeous embroidery and rich colors. A couple from Japan and China have animals on them, but that half of the room is definitely more reminiscent of a tent from the middle east. Hir bed is also covered with satiny Egyptian cotton sheets, duvet cover and pillow shams. There is a lot of red and russet browns with some gold highlights in between. Sebastian's half is -- fairly boring. Plain blue sheets on the bed; his desk tends to carry a large assortment of books (tidily stacked) at any given time, as well as a large assortment of clean white bones, often in the process of being rearranged into some sculpture or other. There's often a guitar in its case resting up against the side of the desk. His closet and dresser tend towards mess, comfortable hiking-type clothes in a fairly drab assortment of blacks and greys and neutral earth-tones spilling out of them. It is brightened up somewhat by the artwork on the walls, a handful of paintings in the same whimsically surreal style. With a lighter trunk, Missy Thorpe makes her way down the hallway to another dorm room, checking the number on the outside with a note on her cellphone. She sets the trunk down and reaches up to knock lightly against the wood door, listening quietly and expectantly. She's dressed in a short sleeved blouse of blue and white stripes, cut and sewn with diagonal lines to accentuate her waist and breasts. Below the peplum waistline, she wears a pair of skinny black jeans, 'sensible' three inch heeled boots cover her feet. She fidgets a little as she waits, turning her ear closer to the door listening without pressing her ear against it. "Hey, B? Got a delivery for you." Bastian looks a little puzzled as he opens the door. He -- may have been crying, recently, there is a puffiness to his eyes. His clothing is bland, jeans and a plain grey tee. He pulls the door open with a curious, "For me --" that trails off as he sees Missy outside in the hall. His eyes widen, gills fluttering, and for a long moment he just stares in silence. Missy blinks in confusion for a moment, her shoulders slumping and her initial good mood disappearing rapidly in the light of Sebastian's mood. "Oh. Honey. I'm so... forgive me. Is this a bad time? I just, well, we ... um. Hi." She inhales deeply and stands up a little straighter again. "I can just park this in your room if you want to be alone. The trunk can be picked up later." "It's --" Bastian is still staring, his voice kind of fluttery-breathless. "It's. Been a. Long day," he finally says, swallowing hard and taking a slow step backwards, pulling the door open wider. "I -- you can. Come -- why are you here?" He doesn' sound accusatory, just /puzzled/. "Oh, well. Okay." Missy lowers herself to snag the handle of the trunk once more and drags it into the room, setting it down between the two beds and taking a moment to look around. "In the end, this is all Daiki's idea. He told us about the fire and the fact that you guys lost everything, and we decided to raid the stock cupboards and get together some supplies for you and your family. I think we put most of the rainbow in your trunk, so you may need sunglasses before you open it, if your eyes are tired. Just a warning." Her enthusiasm is calmer than before he opened the door, but she still exudes energy. "Hi, B. Long time, no see." "Oh. Oh. Daiki -- oh." Bastian nods slowly, leaning back against the door in a heavy slump to let it close behind him. "Oh." His eyes drift down slowly to the trunk, and his lips twitch as though he's attempting a smile though it falters and fades soon. "Wow. Um. That's -- that's. Thoughtful. We -- yeah. We lost -- there was a fire." Even though Missy just said that. "It -- has been a while, hasn't it? How -- how have you been?" "It's okay if this is a bad time, hun. Dai's been telling us that things have been pretty bad around here. Told us that Dusk is missing. I'm going to volunteer to search the streets of Manhattan and the tri-state area when I'm done with this." She moves to sit down at Rasa's desk, turning the chair so she's still facing Sebastian. "Or whatever will be the most productive use of my effort to help. Maybe sit in a call center, field leads from better search and rescuers." She studies Sebastian as she quiets. "They cut his eyes out." Sebastian says this -- almost /offhand/, in that his tone is kind of distant. Kind of numb. "What?" Missy is on her feet a second later, louder when she repeats the question. "WHAT?" She takes a step or two forward before turning sharply and pacing back, her hands curled into fists. "I'll kill them all," she replies as if this simply occurred to her about as easily as a crossword answer. "I..." She pauses as she looks back at Sebastian, giving him a tight little smile as she blinks back sudden moisture in her eyes. "Please excuse me just one moment, I need to process some of this." Then she stands there, eyes out of focus, jaw set, head tilting downward in a repetitive diagonal nod or an emphatic chin gesture. "Yeah." Sebastian says this flat and heavy, now. "That's about where I am." He stats towards the trunk, but then stops, just staring down at it and teetering back on his heels. "I don't -- really know how. To process it. They /took/ him. And they --" His gills flutter quickly, his hand lifting to press palm against eye. "There is no processing it, B. There is only enduring it." Missy takes a deep breath and shakes off some of the stiffness her emotional outburst brought on. "Now I know you're not going to forget what is going on and what Dusk needs right now, but you also need to focus on continuing to function. Please. Continue to seek food and comfort. Please, continue to breathe. If you need to cry or scream, that is acceptable. If you need to do something, find /something/ to do." She moves over to Sebastian's side and rests a hand on his shoulder. "We're going to find him. Your pa, his friends, the people here, they are all going to give their best to bring him home as soon as possible." "I don't know what I --" Sebastian shakes his head, eyes fixed on the trunk, still. "I need to sink my /claws/ into them, is what I need. I need to get him /home/." His gills flutter again, and then calm. "Everyone keeps dying. Pa had really pretty eyes too --" His teeth clench, and he draws in a heavy breath. "I apologize. Thank you. For this. It was -- Eli didn't have to do this. I know things aren't --" He shrugs, thin shoulder moving stiffly beneath Missy's hand, and for just a moment there's an uncomfortable spasm of anger in his face that soon just fades into sorrow. "Easy for him, either." "He wanted to. He has to keep working. It's how he gets through each day, working, striving to make something beautiful out of the hell that he's been through." She squeezes her hand on Sebastian's shoulder, something careful in the affection she shows. Sebastian's eyes track over towards one of the paintings on his wall -- a humanid figure, fragile-looking despite being muscular in form in that it's composed of a mosaic of shattered-glass that gives it a kind of broken look; there's a shadowy form straddling it, one tendril-like hand wrapped around the lower figure's throat, and the other one is lifting a glassy hand to the shadow-creature's chest -- though whether pushing away or urging closer, it's hard to say. His lips press together, and he nods, slow. "Yeah. I -- can get that. Sometimes you just need an -- outlet for. Everything. But." His hand scrubs against his face. "But." With a hard swallow, he pulls away, crouching down by the chest. "Thank you. I should unpack these I guess." "Are you still doing those amazing bone sculptures?" Missy asks as she finally pulls her hand away and opens the catch on the trunk lid. Dresses and skirts make up the top layer, everything neatly folded, but in such a way that it is fairly easy to tell the difference between a dress and a skirt. Below, there are shirts and trousers. Pretty much nothing matches, but everything kind of goes together. There are some solid colors and more mundane patterns to dress down the loudness of the rest of the new wardrobe, but they could also be dressed up for a little more elegance than vivacity. "There are shoes at the bottom. Custom work. We are the most curious about how those fit because they'll take the longest to reorder." "Oh, I -- I don't know if they're amazing. But I -- yes. I still -- yes." Sebastian blushes deeply, crouching and then hesitating as he sees the array of clothes inside. His fingers trace slowly against the layers of brightly-colored clothing, teeth sinking down against his lip as a slightly misty-eyed look brightens his black eyes. Quietly he stands, starting to pull the clothes out to hang them in his largely-empty closet. "Wow. This -- must have taken a lot of -- did he do this for /all/ of us? I mean. Pa too?" "He did some for your pa, too," Missy replies, fishing out some hangers and starting to hang them up. "Shane's already gotten his. You two got the lion's share, because honestly, it's nearly impossible for you to find clothes elsewhere. He made formal and dressed up clothes for Spencer, as he's still growing and it'd be easier to buy stuff second hand for his jeans and t-shirts. He also made things for Micah. When Daiki described his style, we weren't entirely sure what to do, so we mostly focused on foundation pieces to support his goofy t-shirt collection so that he could get back to collecting goofy t-shirts as soon as possible. For you Pa, well, you know that's tricky. Too much and it seems disrespectful, not enough and it seems like a slight. I think he did okay with an amount that hopefully says, 'I care about your life, but not in -that- way.'" "Foundation pieces?" Bastian tips his head uncertainly to one side. "He does like goofy t-shirts." His eyes turn downward, toes wiggling against the floor before he gets back to storing clohing neatly away. "Pa'll be fine just so long as there's some pretty. He --" He fidgets, shifting clothes carefully to space them neatly. "It's been a rough --" His gills flutter again. "He'll be glad. I think. One less -- there's been a /lot/ of stress." "Foundation pieces: shirts, pants; meant to be worn with or under other things. It's meant to keep him from having to buy expensive jeans and long sleeved shirts that keep him warm while wearing things with dinosaurs and extend-o-grip sticks." Apparently, Micah's wardrobe has been described fairly accurately. Missy nods as she helps. "Don't worry. Eli'd never forget to make something for Jax, to help him feel a little less stressed about things." "Ohh -- oh. Oh, good. He -- wears a lot of. Henley -- I don't know. That'll be -- thank you. Thank -- him," Sebastian says, a little bit awkwardly as he takes the last of the clothes to hang them up, carefully removing the shoes to line them up in the closet afterwards. "This is --" He fidgets again, rubbing a hand against the side of his neck. Drawing in a slow breath, pushing it out. "Just -- thank you." When the trunk is empty, Missy closes it up, moving to pick up the handle once more. "I have some hats to delivery to Shane, but after that, I'm going to be off for the night. If you need anything else, please feel free to call me, okay?" She slips a business card out of her pocket and hands it over. "You going to be okay? I mean, not okay, but... well, functional?" "I'm always functional," Bastian answers with a very small curl of smile, taking the business card with a polite dip of head that is almost a bow. "And -- and thank you again. This --" He draws in another slow breath. "Just. Just -- thank him for me. Us." "I will." Missy gives Sebastian a smile then heads out on her way.