ArchivedLogs:OhGod OhGod

OhGod OhGod
Dramatis Personae Toru, Shane, Sebastian, Peter	2013-07-26 Twins and Peter meet Toru at Fight Club. DOES NOT GO WELL. (part of fight club.)
Location <NYC> BoM Safehouse - Lower East Side
Tucked away off a little-used side street in the Lower East Side, sandwiched between a youth drop-in center and a taqueria, this narrow three-story townhouse has very little to catch the eye. Boarded-up windows, a door peeling its paint, shabby grubby brickface; from the outside it does not look like much. Inside someone has gone to great lengths to renovate the building into something more habitable. It isn't glamorous but it is comfortable, old furniture dragged in, the place generally swept clean. The first floor holds a large living room, a smaller dining room, a spacious kitchen, a half-bathroom. There are three bedrooms and a full bathroom on the second floor; the attic is just a large empty space crammed full of boxes with a window out to the large flat roof. The basement, much like the attic, consists of a lot of empty space. A bare concrete floor, no windows, occasional poles running up to the ceiling. A tiny half-bathroom down here, too. Not a whole lot else. It has been a long night. You can tell, by the smell of sweat and blood down in the basement, the red stains on the floor, the haggard /exhaustion/ in the face of -- well, not!Joshua, but Mirror doing a very good Joshua /impression/ to play healer tonight. The twins look fairly exhausted, too; healing can only do so /much/ for overtaxing onesself. Dressed identically in black tank tops, grey shorts, black sneakers -- though Shane has the identifying marker at least of a thick red collar around his neck -- they are currently heading up out of the basement in order to stop by the kitchen. For some more water -- the bottles in the basement are all /gone/ -- and snacks. Sebastian leans up against Shane's side for the trek upstairs. "-- maybe we should bring Anole home with us," he murmurs quietly to his brother. "With his -- mom? -- gone he might. Maybe want --" "-- Yeah," Shane agrees. "Maybe." Peter is somewhere upstairs, already -- in the kitchen! -- clad in a notably /black/ hoodie, different from the red one he usually wears. Probably because his /red/ hoodie currently has. BULLETHOLE in it. Also, blue-jeans! Also, strange black plates poking up from the shoulders of his hoodies. He's already scavenging waters, apparently having /predicted/ that the twins would want some. Shoving them toward their hands. HERE TAKEIT. "--Anole shouldn't," Peter adds, a little more meekly and agreeably, "be -- alone. He--" Then, as if making an unrelated comment: "You know he /saved/ us? You? Me? Um. Like. Two of us, I think. At least two of us." Toru, on the other hand, did not really-- watch any of the fights! Or fight at all, in fact. Every so often he'd stroll down from upstairs to see how things were progressing, but otherwise just kind of hanging around upstairs, in the living room, waiting for the night's events to end. He's lying on the couch, when the chil'ns all gather, and once he's satisfied that he doesn't hear any /other/ feet wandering around, he crawls up /off/ of the couch, climbing over it, and strollling towards the kitchen. Today he's dressed in a pair of jeans, despite the heat, Chuck Taylor sneakers, and a light blue t-shirt that reads: NEVER BE SOBER AGAIN. And he's approaching the younger teens with a determined look and a /possibly/ creepy smile. "Hey, /babies/." He doesn't say it like an insult; more like he thinks it's their name. Collectively. "Been wondering where you are. ... You're shorter than I remember." "Who the fuck are you," Shane greets blandly, not really challenging so much as a flat semi-curious question. Sebastian sniffs at the air as he takes both of the waters, passing one off to his brother. "Cages," he answers. "-- Police. Not doctors." Because this is a thing that actually needs /clarifying/, with them. "Oh." Shane accepts this with a nod. "Haven't been wondering where you are. We're pretty fucking short, dude." "He shouldn't be alone," Sebastian returns to the previous line of thought. "And he's -- kind of a --" "-- badass when he has to be?" Shane's brows raise. "Yeah. -- Sup." This last is to Toru, with an upward jerk of his head in a nod. "/Babies/ I'm not a baby I'm /sixteen/," Peter is saying, in the indignant tone of voice that begs for 'and a half' to be tacked on the back-end, there. Except he doesn't tack it on, because it's not true! "--um. Hi," he says, as if suddenly embarassed by his own response. Or maybe in response to Sebastian's clarification. Toru clears his throat, looking /just/ a smidge put out by the reaction - apparently not what he was expecting! - and shakes his head a few times. "/Yeah/, the fucking /cages/, but that's besides the fuckin' /point/." Holding up a finger, he closes his eyes a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose with the other hand. "I'm sorry, man. Guys. Babies. Whatever. I didn't fuckin'-- it's just." Here, he takes a step closer, hands held up in vague sort of gesture. "Usually I'm like, not so bad about expressin' my /anger/ but I made a promise not to-- y'know I really don't think I've ever been madder'n I am right now, you know that? So I'm just like, wonderin', where it is y'all get off thinkin' it's okay for you to go around spreadin' /shit/ about people and tryin' to fuck up their fucking /lives/!" "What," Shane actually says this with a measure of /patience/ despite his crass choice of words, "the fucking hell are you on about." Sebastian just raises his brows. Shifts sliiightly as he takes his first gulp of water to position himself just a little bit more between Toru and the other two. Nudging his brother back slightly as he asks with more confusion: "-- What?" "--wh. I. Have I--" Peter looks at the twins, now. Stepping /back/. Eyebrows raising in a sudden flurry of tinypanic. "--have I--ruined--somebody's life?" Back to Toru: "I'm -- I'm sorry!" Peter sounds. /Genuinely/ sorry about this. So sorry. The sorriest. Toru apparently isn't used to this level of nonchalance; a look of super frustration crosses his face, and he shakes his head before all but whirling on Peter. "/You/ ain't done /shit/, kid! So far as I know, anyway, except fuckin'--" And hand is outstretched to point at the twins. "/You/ guys-- fuckin'-- I don't know /which/ one of you but one of you guys fuckin'-- /TRIB JONES/. You called him a fuckin' /pedophile/ in front of his fuckin' /boss/ and goin' around making up /shit/ like that is not a thing you fucking /do/, what the fuck is /wrong/ with you fucking-- sushi-ass pieces of shit?!" "Oh." This is very, very flat, all of a sudden, and now it is /Shane/ who is moving -- closer to Peter. One hand moves to the other boy's arm, instinctively curling fingers around it. Sebastian's gills flutter. He lifts a hand -- very /slowly/ -- when Toru points that hand at them, but then drops it. "We didn't," he says, very quiet and very calm, "make anything up at all." "I'd start with asking what's wrong with /him/," Shane is less calm than his brother; his words come through gritted teeth. "This is some Catholic Church bullshit you're pulling right here. S'a worse offense to /talk/ about abuse than to commit it." "--wh--" Peter begins, first at Toru's whirling, then at the accusations, then at the twins, then at: "--oh. /Oh/," he says, eyes getting a bit wider with realization. Before -- his hand reaches out! To touch, first, Sebastian's shoulder. Then, more slowly, Shane's arm -- the very arm Shane's gripping Peter with. Squeezing both. "--ohjeez/okay/," Peter says, a hint of violet creeping up his throat, before: "--slowdown let's." Slight tug on both the twins. "Let's just. Slowdown. Um. Hi," he repeats, to Toru, as if /this/ will somehow difuse the situation. But otherwise, he has a very deer-in-the-headlights look to him. "Okay first off, jackass, me bein' Japanese doesn't make me a fuckin' Catholic," Toru notes, also speaking through gritted teeth. Hands are balled into fists, hanging loosely at his sides now, and very slowly turning a shade of yellowish-ivory. He takes a deep breath, sort of calming-like, but it doesn't really seem to. Do much, in that regard. "He is not," the man continues, "a fucking. Pedophile. If fucking /anything/, because y'all are like, at least 14, that's a different thing, but /also/--" Another pause for breath there, but then he suddenly relaxes just barely perceptibly, and crosses those arms over his chest. "Y'know what, which one of you did he supposedly-- /obviously/ y'all got somethin' /personal/ against 'im so how about you go into some fuggin' detail." "What the fuck is wrong in your brain, moron. The shit does Japanese have to do with Catholic?" Shane just gives Toru a -- /look/. Like possibly he is defective. "Right. Okay. It's fine to try and force /fourteen/ year olds into sex, then," Sebastian says this very /dully/. "He fucking /you/?" Shane asks bluntly. "--okay everybody listen why don't we. Why don't we--/calm/ down," Peter says, voice a little tiny, kind-of. A squeak. Tugging at both of the twins again. It is a very /small/ tug, admittedly. "--and I'm /sixteen/," Peter adds, kind of as an after-thought, but also with a sharp, almost /indignant/ yelp. Tilting his head to one side, Toru looks to Shane, returning that. Look. "Japan's gotta long history of Catholics doin' the missionary thing on accounta how they obviously know their shit better'n us savages or what the fuck ever." He actually explains that part pretty calmly, before shooting Sebastian a glare. Then looking to Peter, and back to Shane. "Look, kid, I 'ppreciate the concern and all but I ain't gonna get calmed down until I got all this straightened out." Shane's question is considered for a moment, Toru staring down at the kid for a moment, but finally he answers, matter-of-factly, "Actually, /yeah/, he /is/. And I'm /nineteen/." "I didn't mean --" Shane starts, irritably, but then just shakes his head. "Goddamn moron," he mutters under his breath. He edges back closer to Peter, arm curling around the other boy's waist. "Kid, I don't give any fucks how old you are. But just because he's sticking his dick in you doesn't make him a /good/ goddamn guy." Sebastian just shakes his head. "There's nothing to straighten out." He directs his words quietly to the other two. "It's not like he has any reason to be /honest/ about it now. Let's -- just go." "--it's," Peter starts up, voice still tiny; he's looking to Toru with a frown, eyebrows knitted together, seemingly struggling between two different directions -- for some reason, he suddenly looks /concerned/. "--I mean--I. He--this isn't--" Peter's frown rumples deeper as Shane wraps an arm around his waist; at Sebastian's comment, Peter looks to his own feet, the violet crawling all the way up to the top of his face. "--he doesn't--hurt you, right?" Toru takes in a deep breath, staring down at Shane for a moment. "Just because he's--" His teeth are gritted again, and he takes in a slow breath through slightly parted lips. "You little piece of /shit/." This is /just/ about Toru's cue to make a /mistake/-- when Peter's question actually pulls him out of RAGEFACE mode long enough to just stare at the kid for a minute, with an expression of disbelief on his face. Hands abruptly go-- less bony! And just fall to his sides weakly. "What the hell kinda idea do you guys /got/ about him? Of course he doesn't fuckin' /hurt/ me do you seriously think I'd hang out around him if he was doin' that? He's just-- a /guy/." Sebastian is tensing, when Toru's expression changes; his own claws start to lengthen, body shifting just that much more in between Toru and his brother. But the claws slide back down to tiny nubs when Toru's hands fall to his sides. "People do a lot of things for just a guy," he says quietly. "And he --" "We got the idea he /gave/ us," Shane answers tersely. "That when everything is going to shit? He's the kind of guy who'll take full /advantage/ of that to try and --" He doesn't finish this though; his teeth bare in a disgusted grimace, and he tightens his arm around Peter. "When we were in that place, he -- tried some stuff," Sebastian continues, calmly. "It's easy to pretend to be a nice guy when times are easy. We've seen what he's like when they're /not/." "--he just. Look," Peter finally says, and now his hand drops down atop of Shane's shoulder, /squeezing/ back. "--I don't. Even -- care. Like. If he's not -- hurting anybody. Now. And won't. Then -- I don't care." Is this to Toru? Or Shane and Sebastian? It's hard to say; Peter's still just /peering/ at his feet. Until the next bit; when Peter /drags/ his eyes up from the floor and locks them on Toru. He speaks /fast/, like he's trying to spit it all out on one breath of courage: "--when we were in there, I needed food for the twins, and he said he could get it but I had to go stay in his cage with him and. I didn't. And that's it. And I--" The violet creeps /higher/; Peter /pulls/ at both the twins. This time, it is not a tiny tug. "--should go. I'm sorry this isn't--" That's all he manages to get out. Just, tugtugtugging, now. "The fact," Toru explains -- actually calmly! -- as he adjusts his posture to stand up a bit more straight, "that y'all are standin' there talkin' about what he /tried/ to do, and not what he /actually/ did, is like. Pretty much indication to /me/ that he didn't try very /hard/." Pinching the bridge of his nose, he shakes his head a few times. "He ain't /pretendin'/ to be a nice guy, he's a fuckin' /asshole/, he just ain't /nearly/ as fucked up as you think he is seein' as how all you're /goin'/ on is--" And then Peter steps in with his explanation, and Toru sort of. Stares at the kid for a minute. "...You've got to be fuckin' kiddin' me." He rubs his face with that hand, running it up his cheek and then just. Rubs it again. "--Y'know what, forget it. I get it, he's got a couple feet on you, he's a big scary dude, whatever, okay, you took him more serious than he meant. Is what it sounds like to /me/." Taking a deep breath, Toru, in fact!, is the first one to start heading to the exit. "/One/ of you fucking fuckers had better hunt down that Luke Cage guy, though, because if Trib ends up losing his job over this /bullshit/ then I am coming the fuck back here. My boyfriend ain't no fucking ephebophile, the only guy in this room who gets to fuck him over is me." "That /wasn't/ 'it'," Sebastian says with a sudden /fierceness/. "That doesn't mention the /look/ he was giving you -- or asking you if you were /chaste/ and /untouched/ -- or /ordering/ you into his cage and you --" He's lost his gentle, polite tone, his teeth baring. "You are /sick/ if you think there is /anything at all/ alright about /using/ a situation like that for sex. Do you even know what consent /is/? Because it's not holding someone's /death/ over their head to get them into your bed." "He didn't try very hard," now Shane is the calm one, quiet as he reaches to pull Sebastian back towards himself, "because if he had kept it up, I would have killed him." "If he loses his job over this, good," Sebastian says. "And, kid? If you ever bring him here? I /will/ kill him." This is -- oddly calm, once more. "--just. Just let's go please right now," Peter says, words /rushed/ and fast and continuing to /pull/ on the twins, something desperate creeping into his voice. Even though Toru is leaving! When Sebastian makes that final statement, even and calm -- Peter /YANKS/. Hard. On both of them: "/Please/," he says, something shakey and pleading in that last word. /That/ remark is enough to-- turn Toru right back around! He /stalks/ over to Bastian, storming up to the kid in a few brisk steps, but for a moment he's just grimly silent as he stares down at him. He's /shaking/, fists down at his sides and arms held rigid, and a brief glance is given to Peter as the kid pleads to leave, and Toru's reply to the shark is a growled, "Get. Out." There's a definite /edge/ to his tone; nostrils flaring, hackles raised and everything. Sebastian doesn't move. His head tips up, black eyes flat and calm as they meet Toru's. Shane's teeth bare. "You sick fuck," he mutters, but he is turning in to curl his arms around Peter. "I'm sorry," he tells Peter softly. "Bastian, come on." Sebastian's lips pull back, slowly. Not a grimace, but a smile, thin and gleaming with a flash of sharp shark-teeth. "/Bastian/." It's firmer, this time, from Shane. Sebastian takes a step back, though his eyes don't leave Toru's. "{Sorry,}" eventually comes, lower, as his smile fades, his hand reaches for Peter's elbow. "Take him outside. I'm getting Anole." Possibly a very /deliberate/ statement, with another glance towards Toru -- since this means he's heading back further into the house again, and not leaving. Shane is leaving, though. Arm curled around Peter to guide him out. "--please," Peter only repeats, soft yet quaking, cringing into Shane. Particularly when Sebastian starts to smile. When Sebastian steps back, Peter draws in a shuddering breath; his arms are suddenly /vicelike/ around Shane, tightening harder and harder. The contact from Sebastian seems to briefly steady him, but the mention of Anole -- and the implication that Sebastian isn't coming /just/ yet -- only seems to make Peter tense up again. He doesn't resist Shane as he leads him; at the moment, he doesn't seem capable. But: "{No hurt him. /Please/.}" Strangled Vietnamese. "--Shane," Peter starts, but then he's just leaning against him weakly, breath hard and fast, head suddenly shoved roughly against his neck. The two /separate/ departing groups of kids are eyed, in turn, Toru just. Standing in place, there, not really /moved/ from that position he's in, at all. When the kitchen, at least, is vacated, he relaxes enough to take in a deep breath, getting himself under enough control to follow that with some slightly steadier breathing - he /may/ have forgotten to do that, for a minute - and proceeds to. Stride back into the living room and throw himself down on the couch, lying there until he figures the kids are gone.