ArchivedLogs:Outside Point of View

Outside Point of View
Dramatis Personae Aloke, Sebastian, Shane	2013-11-19 (Part of Infected TP.)
Location <XS> Music Room - FL2
Wide and spacious, seating in this soundproofed room comes largely on the sweep of gentle risers that afford the teacher an easy view of all the budding performers, and add another dimension to the acoustics of the room. Instruments of all types are carefully stored around the room, and a grand piano, immaculately upkept, takes the position of prize near the back. In a nod to the eclectic studies of the students, digital mixing equipment and turntables rub shoulders with the classical instruments. Music stands sit in front of most of the seats, and the only windows look out out over the side of the school grounds. Classes are back in session. For all this means to Shane, who even though the final bell has only just rung is already tucked into the otherwise empty music room and perhaps has been there for a while. He's seated on one of the risers, violin in hand and bow in the other, though he's not playing. He's just staring down at the instrument, his fingers tracing against it. His clothing is back to his usual schooltime attire, pinstriped black slacks and a dark short-sleeved dress shirt, but the clothing hangs on him badly at the moment. With his form shrunken down to near-skeletal emaciation the clothes just look baggy, oversized. His head tips forward, drowsily, eyes drooping half-closed. Sebastian is good at being quiet, though quiet does little to disguise his /scent/ from preceding him into the room as he slips in. Taken in isolation from his brother's current state of emaciation /he/ looks like the world's returned to normal. Purple skinny jeans, knee-high black boots neatly polished, a sheer flowing black top over a bright yellow Fluttershy tank top and his favorite HERBIVORE hoodie over it all. He wanders quietly into the room, saying nothing but moving to settle down on the riser alongside Shane. Shane glances sideways at Sebastian, and then slowly looks back down at his violin. After a pause he sets it in his lap, his eyes just closing. "{I wanted music...}" His voice is tired, kind of listless. His gills flutter restlessly alongside his neck. "{That's what this room is for.}" Sebastian lifts a hand, fingertips brushing down along Shane's gills. "{I can give you music. If it's hard.}" His eyes slip around the room, but return to his brother soon after. "{I was watching Shelby's videos. Hasn't been another in -- a long time. Do you think she --}" Shane frowns, shoulders hunching inwards. His gills lie flat at Bastian's touch, head tipping to one side to allow more of the contact. "{I think she probably left town a long time before it went to hell.}" Sebastian cannot hide his worried frown, but after this he just shrugs. "{If there's anything she's good at, it's taking care of /herself/. I don't think she'd exactly hang around for a disaster like that.}" His fingers run down against Shane's gills once more, but then he stands, shrugging off his hoodie and leaving it beside them. He moves across the room to retrieve one of the practice guitars, returning with it to sit beside Shane again and slowly tune it. Shane quiets, at this. When Bastian retrieves the guitar, he sets his violin aside on a nearby chair, curling over onto his side instead. Just small ball of shark at Sebastian's side. "{... that's not a bad skill to have.}" His eyes shift up, watching Sebastian's face. "{But it's not always a good one, either.}" Sebastian's lips press thinly together. He finishes his tuning, settling the guitar into his lap first and pulling Shane closer second. He strums quietly at the guitar once it is tuned, a familiar melody if Shane has recently been perusing Shelby's YouTube videos. For a moment his lips move silently before he begins to sing, soft and low, Lucy Schwartz's "Gone Away". Shane closes his eyes to listen to this, nestling his head beside the guitar on Sebastian's lap. His arm curls upwards, wrapping around Bastian's knee and squeezing there tightly until the song ends. "{I shouldn't have left you.}" It's not apologetic so much as it is a heavy statement of fact. "{I thought I could help. Like if someone else out there had -- enough firepower to do /more/ than -- maybe Pa and everyone wouldn't have to work so hard. Maybe it'd all end quicker.}" "{You could've just stayed. /Home/. Pa would've brought us back here sooner but we didn't know where you -- I wouldn't come without you.}" Shane's arm stays curled tight against Sebastian's knee, his face turning to nuzzle down against his twin's thigh. "{Instead of being out there where everything -- kills you.}" "{I didn't die.}" Sebastian sounds flat. Terse. His picking turns more absent, no set melody anymore so much as just quiet improvisation. Shane exhales sharp and heavy at this. The look he turns up to Sebastian is /skeptical/. "{/And/ I helped. What we built -- it's doing more against the zombies than the /whole/ of the military stationed here. They can barely keep up with their shelters, that's just -- we'll lose them all by /attrition/. But the thing we made, it's -- better than any --}" Sebastian sounds half excited but half pleading. "{I'm sure it is. I just, /fuck/, B, after every fucking thing we've --}" Shane's teeth grit. His claws dig in past the denim of Sebastian's jeans to prickle down against the other boy's leg for a moment, and then relax. "{Don't you ever just want to fucking /stop/. Get the fuck away from all the /terrible/ and just. Let. Someone else goddamn -- take care. Of you.}" It's after classes on Tuesday and from the music room there is -- well, music. No class going on, this is just one solo guitar softly strummed. There's no singing to accompany the rather formless improvised tune; instead there's soft conversation happening over top of it, the words distinctly not /English/, a soft Vietnamese cadence over top of the music. Sebastian is tucked onto a riser, guitar in hand; he's dressed once more in his typical class-in-session style. Purple skinny jeans with knee-high black boots, a flowy sheer black top over bright yellow Fluttershy tank, his black HERBIVORE hoodie discarded beside him. "{Sometimes,}" he's agreeing with his brother. "{But that's kind of just -- selfish.}" Shane is less colourful than his brother. Pinstriped black slacks and a dark short-sleeved dress shirt. No shoes. His usually-dapper clothes hang badly on him, small frame withered away to something almost skeletal lately. He's just curled up into a ball on the riser beside Sebastian, his head pillowed alongside the guitar in Bastian's lap. "{It's /okay/ to be selfish, sometimes. Fucking hell, dude, you don't -- you're fucking -- /just like Pa/.}" Except when he says this it's an accusation and not a compliment. "{It's not your fucking responsibility to save the whole fucking world.}" Aloke appears in the doorway, peering in before greeting the twins with a bright smile. His eyes are glowing like soft yellow flashlights, and he's carrying a portfolio folder big enough to hold a couple of 18 x 24 drawing pads inside. He's wearing tan cargo pants, no shoes, and a black Ramone's t-shirt: proper teacher attire, of course. When Aloke enters, he pauses briefly and steps into the room, signing 'Sorry, excuse me'. "Hi guys, are you ok?" He doesn't speak Vietnamese, but he does know what distressed teenage voices sound like, and his expression is concerned. "{But it kind of /is/,}" Sebastian insists fiercely, "{I mean, not -- the whole world but after /everything/ Pa and /everyone/ have done for us I can't just --}" He breaks off sharply with the teacher's approach, nostrils flaring on a new scent even before Aloke speaks or enters properly. At the sides of his neck, his gills flutter, his hand stopping its strumming to press his palm flat to the guitar strings and quiet them. All his fierceness and tension bleeds out into a slightly indrawn posture, shoulders twitching inwards, head dipping in a small bow. "Fine, sir," he answers straightaway, in a quieter polite tone. "How are you feeling?" Where Sebastian withdraws Shane just puffs up larger, gaunt features only looking all the more skeletal for his sudden baring of teeth towards the new person in the doorway. "/Fine/," he snaps in sharp-hard contrast to his twin's politeness. "Fuck do you want, art room's /across/ the hall." "Boys..." Aloke says, his smile turning gentle, softer. He sets his big folder down, leaning it against a chair, and pulls out another chair, turning it around to straddle it while facing the risers. He blinks at Shane, clearly restraining his own reaction to the boy's outburst, aside from letting his smile fade to a more neutral expression, and a brief twitch in the corner of his eye. "You don't have to call me 'sir', Sebastian. I mean, I know we haven't seen that much of each other, but your dad is one of my best friends. And the way he talks about you... I'm here for you." He leans forward, crossing his forearms across the back of the chair. "But if you'd rather just have a private conversation, you can tell me that too. But not like that Shane." He doesn't make any move to leave though, instead watching the boys mildly. "Okay, s--" Bastian starts meekly, but bites back the reflexive formality with a swallow and an apologetic dip of his head. "Thank you. That's very kind." "Fuck are you gonna do, give me detention?" Shane snaps back. Sebastian's hand drops from his guitar, though, squeezing down firm against his brother's shoulder at the cursing. Shane tenses, and then closes his eyes with a sudden heavy exhale. "My dad is freaking everyone's best friend," he grumbles instead. "How do you manage to make that sound like a bad thing?" Sebastian wonders with a slight lessening of pressure on Shane's shoulder. "Well, who's his?" Shane answers his twin irritably. He opens his eyes again, looking back up at Aloke from within deeply sunken sockets. "SO, how's your apocalypse going?" Aloke actually grins at Shane's suggestion of detention. It's not a mirthful smile, but the expression peels off 40 years from his face, for just a second. The rebellious teenage Aloke may not be visible to the boys, but Aloke enjoys the memory all the same. "Detention... That's an interesting idea." Aloke looks up at the ceiling for a moment, and then back down at the boys. "Maybe. If I thought it would do any good. But that seems like the tool of a weak teacher who can't just talk it out." Aloke considers Shane's assessment of his father for a long moment before commenting. "He /is/ everyone's friend, isn't he? I'm twice his age, and I doubt I'll ever be half the man he is." Aloke stands. "I've been here through most of it," he says, while picking up the chair and putting back where he got it. "Started doing some shopping with Joshua though. Bouncing around here and there." Aloke stretches his back, standing there, which only highlights his own exaggerated thinness. "I'll let you two talk. I didn't mean to interrupt. But please know I'm here for you, if you ever need an outside point of view." "It's okay," Shane tells Aloke sincerely, "don't feel bad or anything, you could add half the city together and they still wouldn't be half the man he is." Small frown. "... I guess especially now that they're all mindless murderous corpses." "He's already got detention," Sebastian informs Aloke with a very small smile, "from now until about four years after he graduates. But good luck getting him to /go/." Shane's eyes flick up and down over Aloke, his smile baring bright and sharp. "I'd do detention under you any day," he informs the older man. Sebastian grimaces, squeezing at his brother's shoulder again. "What," Shane replies, "I mean, there's definitely more /interesting/ ways to discipline I'd take those too." "... It's better," Sebastian is talking right over this to Aloke, "if you just pretend he's never talking." He lifts his hand back to the guitar, absently starting to pick at the strings again once Aloke stands. Aloke actually snorts, in spite of himself, at Sebastian's impression of Shane's detentions. It's not a particularly handsome noise, but there it is. Then he frowns at Shane's inappropriate suggestion. It's not that he doesn't /get/ what he's saying. He just doesn't approve. His voice is mild though, as he picks up his folder. "For the record, Shane," Aloke sighs. "That suggestion is wildly inappropriate." He doesn't sound mad or upset, but clearly sounds like someone giving information the receiving person certainly already knows. "/However/. I will proctor detention, if it will get you to do your time." He grins at Sebastian and nods. "Duly noted, Sebastian, thank you." He heads for the door and waves over his shoulder with his free hand. "See you soon!" "You hear that," Shane murmurs to his brother, though not quietly enough that Aloke cannot /hear/, "I'm pretty sure he just offered to proct-ologize me." Sebastian stops his playing. And clamps a hand down over his brother's mouth. "G'bye, sir," he answers, mildly. And doesn't move his hand until Aloke is gone.