ArchivedLogs:Posthumous Video
| Posthumous Video | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | 29 December 2013 Maybe the next one will be an unreleased musical track? (Set directly after Jax is arrested.) |
| Location
<NYC> 303 {Lighthaus} - Village Lofts - East Village | |
This apartment is cheerful, in its way -- bright and airy, its floor plan open and a plethora of windows providing it with an abundance of light. The tiny entrance hall opens into a living room, small, though its sparse furniture and lack of clutter give it a more open feel. The decor is subdued and minimalist; black and white is the dominant theme, with occasional splashes of deep crimson to offset the monochrome, though of late myriad bright-coloured dragonflies swarm across the living room wall. The couch and armchair are upholstered in black corduroy, the low wide coffee table central is black wood and glass-topped, and a few large pillowy beanbags provide additional seating by the large windows that dominate the back wall. The living room and kitchen both hold a rather inordinate number of lamps in addition to the ceiling lights; standing lamps, small lamps on each counter, large sunlights in the corner. More often than not, they're largely all turned on, too. Towards the back, a couple of doors lead off into bedrooms and bathroom, and to the right, the kitchen's tile is separated from the living room's dark hardwood floors by black countertops. Above the bedroom to one side, there is higher space; a ladder climbs up to a lofted area looking down on the living room. Standing in front of the partition between living and cooking area is a large fish tank: one lone Betta, blood-red, swims regally among several species of black and silver fish. A hallway beyond the kitchen leads further into the apartment. Another bathroom stands just into the hall and the farthest door leads to the apartment's final bedroom, the door usually kept shut to hold in the acrid fumes of turpentine and paints from within. For a long while after the door has shut on Jax's precipitous arrest, Sebastian is silent. Staring after it, his claws extending and retracting. He doesn't, at least, go after the officers. He waits until their footsteps, their /vehicles/, are all long since retreated into the distance and then stalks after Micah towards Spencer's room, slamming the door open with one fisted hand. "What the hell have you /done/." Spencer's room is quiet save for Micah's half-nonsense whispering near the boy's ear, arms wrapped around him in a tight, reassuring, conveniently-restraining hug. He finally releases the boy when 'Bastian slams his way into the room. "I'll be back in a little bit, honey. Gotta...talk with B an' make some phone calls, then I'll be right back." He looks to 'Bastian pointedly during that instruction, letting him know that he'd better wait and let this conversation happen outside of his little brother's room. Preferably outside of his hearing. He kisses Spencer on his tousled blonde head before moving into the hall, gesturing for the teen to follow, pulling the door closed behind them if he does. Spencer's eyes are red-rimmed, teary; he's clinging to Micah tight, face mooshed into the older man's shirt. He lets go reluctantly, crawling under his comforter and hiding in bed, Jerusalem clutched to his chest. Sebastian doesn't look /happy/ about waiting. But he waits, gills fluttering quickly and his sharp claws prominent. He moves to the living room, standing by the window with his head thunked down against it. "What the hell," he repeats, lower and flatter, "have you done." Shane is curled up in a beanbag there, shaky and tense, gills quickly fluttering. He is sending a text, glistening eyes fixed on the screen. "You said it would be okay." He doesn't look up at the others, just addresses them in the same flat-low tone as Bastian. Micah pads slowly into the living room, still in bare feet since his socks and shoes were abandoned to dry after the bathroom-soaking incident. The sleeve of his T-shirt is damp in spots with Spencer-tears. "I don't know how they got it in their heads that he did this. I...messed somethin' up. This is my fault, but I'm gonna fix it. It /will/ be okay. I'm gonna call Jax's lawyer. That...Ms. Basil. An' she's gonna tell me exactly what I need t'do t'confess an' get Jax released." He tries to keep the worry out of his voice, to hold back the tears that have been a continuous threat ever since the murder. His fingers pull restlessly at the denim covering his leg. "I'm sorry. I'll fix this." "Stop /saying/ that word." Sebastian's voice sharpens. His claws pull back, though only in order for his fingers to ball up into fists. "It /is/ your fault /fix it/ they just. He didn't do anything he'd never --" His head thumps down hard against the window. Shane, on the other hand, has gotten very, very quiet. Eyes wide, gills fluttering quickly as he stares at his text messages. He scrambles to his feet in a hurry, /dropping/ the phone onto the floor with a clatter and dashing off to disappear into his bedroom. Sebastian turns from the window, staring after his twin. His arms curl against his chest, brows furrowing. "How did you even -- no. I don't. Want to know I just. Ba --" His posture is still coiled up tense, fists still clenched, but his voice cracks now. "Ba they /took/ -- what if they. Put him -- put him back in -- we had other. People. Sometimes after they arrest you you just. Just disappear." Micah's lips thin at the correction and he nods, the reminder apparently /needed/ since too many other things pushed the word-editing out of his mind. "I know. I know. I don't know how they could've...I kept 'im /so far/ away from it. He had...no idea. None. I don't know how they could /possibly/ think this was him when the people they could /see/ did it were...obviously not him. There were so many /witnesses/, I have no idea how they can even justify this arrest. He had a whole church full of people who'll alibi 'im, too. This is...ludicrous, is what it is. Comin' after 'im just 'cause they can, maybe." His head shakes, fingers picking more agitatedly at his jeans. "Shane? Honey...what is it?" Micah moves to collect the phone from where it dropped, debating with himself silently what to /do/ with it once it's in his hand. "He's too public. Everyone knows they took 'im. If they tried t'disappear 'im now, it'd be /obvious/. We would make...such a fuss. An' I'm gonna confess. Just as soon as I get hold of Ms. Basil an' she tells me what t'do. They...just /can't/ hold 'im if there's somebody in custody. I'll...get the gun back, if I have to. I don't know...how these things are done. But I'll do it. They'll have t'release 'im." "Yeah. Yeah he was in church. He was in church he /reads/ in church there'll be -- a whole. Whole church full of people who saw him /up front/ reading the /Bible/ that's like." Sebastian barks out a laugh, rough and kind of ragged. "Like you can't even make up a better alibi oh. Oh gosh. How. /How/ --" He shivers, eyes tracking back towards the door. Shane's phone is buzzing again in Micah's hand. Bzzbzz. He's been texting Daiki, who is texting back somewhat insistently. "... but you did it." Sebastian frowns at Micah, shaking his head. "You /did/ it if you confess you'll be gone /forever/. He didn't do it there /can't/ be evidence shouldn't you. See what -- kind of case they even have before you --" He's interrupted by Shane returning from the bedroom, laptop clutched against his chest and his face turned a few shades paler blue than Sebastian's. His eyes are enormously wide, arms shaking around his computer. "It wasn't you," he tells Micah numbly. "It wasn't -- it. Ba you should. Call. That lawyer. Now." "I did. Maybe this is just...the way it was s'posed t'be. Just...remindin' me what I did. How wrong it was. Maybe I /should/ be in jail forever." Micah's voice just keeps getting quieter as he speaks. He looks down at the phone's screen to see what the buzzing is about. "I'm gonna do whatever I have to t'get Jax out. Lawyer's gonna help me, but I'm gettin' 'im out one way or another." He looks confused and worried when Shane returns, at that look on his face. "But it was me. That's just...an illusion. The man that it looks like is shootin' Malthus. Did video of that get out?" He pales, looking like he might be sick. "Don't. Please don't watch it if it did. There were so many cell phones, it might've. Please...don't watch it." His eyes scrunch closed, his fingers tightening against his jeans pocket until the knuckles whiten. Shane has been texting Daiki, though since he sprinted off to his computer the texts have just devolved into Daiki /fretting/ to himself without reply.
Shane still holds his computer tight against his chest. "No. No it's not. It's not the shooting it's just. It's just Malthus. It's just Malthus it's /Malthus/ he's /sick/." Sebastian looks at Shane, confused. "There's video of --" Frowning, he crosses over from the window, prying the laptop out of Shane's grip to open it on the coffee table. "/Don't/." Shane shakes his head emphatically, darting a nervous look to Micah. Firefox is open on the screen, a video clip frozen on Malthus's calm face. Shane reaches to push the laptop lid closed again. "Just call the -- call the lawyer please." "Video? Of /Malthus/?" Micah's eyes shoot toward the laptop after reading the texts, listening to the boys' discussion. "He can't release videos, he's /dead/. I /shot/ him. In the head. His /brain/ is mostly gone. He can't even...come back...as a zombie." His voice is growing more agitated with each statement, flaring hot with anger. "I /killed/ him. He's gone. It's /done/. He can't /hurt/ anybody anymore." His breath comes quicker, almost panicky at the image on the screen before Shane slams it shut. "What. Did he do." Shane keeps his hand pressed down on his laptop lid. "No it was -- was recorded before. Before he died, it. He said -- he said --" His gills flutter rapidly in agitation. Gently but firmly, Sebastian pries Shane's hand off the computer. Opens it back up, and plays the video. Shane looks away, cringing, pale and looking rather nauseated as Malthus's calm gentle voice speaks. He hugs his arms around himself, hunching over slightly. Sebastian just watches. Quiet, unmoving save for the slow open-close of his gills, the quicker close-open of his inner eyelids. When the video finishes, he sits down slowly on the couch. "... can we," he asks slowly, "kill him /again/." Micah forces himself to watch, all but prying his eyelids open to look at /that face/ again. "It was a trick. When he ran into Jax and told him to kill 'im," he concludes, hands fisted at his sides. "An' that just confirms it. They /were/ workin' on tryin' t'use Vector t'create a virus that would target the X-gene. I'd...wondered if they might try t'do somethin' like that. The fact that he said it an' turned it around in that...bizarro-world load of /bull/ just...might as well've come out an' /said/ that's what they were doin'." His fingernails press hard half-moons into his palms. "Bet he never thought he was gonna die by plain ol' human hands. Didn't see that comin'. Snaky bastard." He frowns, the anger fading into just /tired/. Physical and emotional exhaustion. "I'll call. I don't know...if me just /fessin' up/ s'gonna fix /this/. We're gonna need more help than I thought." "... /does/ Pa actually know where Vector is?" Sebastian's eyes are still fixed on the screen, even after the video stops playing and just reverts to a stillframe of Malthus's face. "Don't." Shane looks extremely uncomfortable saying this. "This is -- going to be. Bigger. Than just Malthus's murder and -- and don't. Because /terrorism/ accusations are --" He scrunches his eyes shut tight. "Just. If they hold him. For /that/. I don't -- we need you. Here. Please. You can't -- please." Sebastian's gills flutter faster. His fists curl tight in his lap. "You should -- go -- call. Before -- anything else. Explodes." "No. None of us knows. Don't even know if the poor guy's still /alive/. We wanted t'make sure Prometheus couldn't...force nobody t'talk. Use any telepaths t'steal the information an' get 'im back. So we left 'im all alone out there, just knowin' what came of...his ability." Guilt is no stranger to Micah's voice lately, but has a different flavour entirely when talking about Vector. "I'll...make sure Ms. Basil knows that I'm expectin' attorney-client privilege for whatever I tell her. I'm just gonna have t'tell her the whole story an' see...what she can do with it. Meantime...we should prob'ly get folks together an' figure this. Dusk an' Hive an' Flicker are home at least, yeah? An'...I'll call Lucien. We need t'work the PR angle on it. I should prob'ly. Talk. On camera. Just go an' be extremely...borin' an' plain-human an' Jax's frettin' husband just t'remind folks how /ridiculous/ the idea of him tryin' t'kill /all/ people without special abilities is. Somethin' like that. Luci'll know better. I ain't good at none of this." He returns Shane's phone, pulling his own from his pocket. "Text Daiki, honey, he's goin' crazy that you ain't respondin'," he instructs before thumbing through his contacts to call Claire Basil. "I won't do nothin' else without lots of...instruction. Gonna rely on some other people's judgement for a bit. Maybe it'll go less bad than mine has." He frowns at the phone as it starts to ring. "Flicker's home." Sebastian whispers this a little shakily. "... it's his. We're supposed to go to -- Pa's going to miss his birthday dinner." He stares down at his hands, unmoving. Shane sinks down onto the couch beside B. He curls an arm around his brother, kissing Sebastian's temple. "Okay. It'll -- we'll." He stops, thumb a little jittery as he slowly starts to answer his texts. His eyes shift up to Micah, though, as the phone rings. "Ba?" His teeth drag against his lip, but all he says after this, softly, is: "I love you." | |
