ArchivedLogs:Quandries

Quandries
Dramatis Personae Anette, Dusk, Ion
In Absentia	2017-01-07 "Now that's terrifying." (Set shortly before the mission.)
Location <BOM> The Nightfort - Ascension Island
A comfortable three-bedroom cabin, sturdily built if inelegant. The front door opens up into a cozy sitting room, sparsely furnished as yet. A futon, a coffeetable, a bookshelf (largely stacked with programming books). The sitting room is adjoined by an equally simple kitchenette with room for small table. The three bedrooms here -- two off the sitting room, one on the other side of the kitchen -- are not uniform in size nor layout, with the considerably smaller kitchen-adjacent room having its own screened-in porch. The one bathroom off the living room has an extremely large claw-foot tub that takes up much of its space. BAM. BAM BAM. There's a heavy-handed knock at the door, though -- Ion doesn't wait for it to be opened. Pretty much immediately on the heels of that last knock there's a zzzp, pop! And here's a bright-eyed electrokinetic, in plain black leather jacket, black jeans, hoodie underneath, scarf, boots, rubbing his hands together briskly in the sitting room of the cabin. "/Yo/ yo yo y'all motherfuckers /ready/?" Dusk is chilling in here. In his pajamas, soft and flannel and warm, a cup of hot black coffee at his elbow together with a tall thermos. An extensive holographic display arrayed in front of him. "... so ready," he answers with a sharptoothed grin, "you have no idea." More helpfully: "Isra's at the lodge." Anette is READY! At the sound of Ion inviting himself in, Anette steps out of her room, wearing an incredibly similar outfit herself. Black boots, leggings, long sleeved t-shirt, and leather coat keeping her wings tucked away for now. Her hair is pulled into a high pony-tail. She grins to Ion but raises a brow to Dusk. "I know the dress code is a bit lax, but really?" she asks, teasing him as yellow eyes glance over the pajamas. "{Boy it's some cold-ass hell-scape out there you cozy here} talking 'bout some fucking /ready/." Ion drapes himself over the back of the futon, chin propping on the spar of one of Dusk's wings to peer over his shoulder at the glowing display. "I'm take all my sisters, get us some /real/ work done while you sit pretty in the warm." He jerks his finger at Anette. "Mmhm. And because I value your lives, I'm going to enjoy my warmth and coffee," Dusk replies lightly. "... and get some /real/ work done here so you all can return home /alive/." He tips his head back, turning that (upside-down, now) grin to Anette. "Though if this asshole gets himself forgotten in the woods on your way back /I/ won't complain. Anyway have fun getting cold and electrocuted out there." More seriously: "Stay safe." Anette manages to catch a handful of Ion's excited words, making her way over towards the futon to join the boys, leaning gently against the back of it, beside Ion. "Well someone's gotta do the hard work. Besides, can't risk that beautiful face of his," she adds, grinning down to Dusk with a wink. However, something in Dusk's last words manages to lose her grin, slowly fading from her face. She looks up to Ion again, her brows pressed slightly together as she looks him over. "Wait...remind me how we're getting there again?" Ion lifts his chin from Dusk's wing, pressing a FIRM kiss to the very top of the other man's unruly hair instead. "Yeah I feel that love. You steer us right, though, I get you some /good/ tequila when I get back." Hear that? BACK. NOT IN THE WOODS. He doesn't actually stick his tongue out at Dusk but it's implied in hi tone. His brows lift in counterpoint to the press of Anette's -- now the jerk of his thumb indicates His Own Self. "Fastest ride we /got/, even with Natalie crazy-ass goddamn driving." "Well yeah I gotta keep it pretty for when you get back." Dusk's wing hitches upward just a touch, brushing absently against the side of Anette's arm as she leans up against the couch behind him. He buries a snort in the next sip from his thermos. "/Natalie's/ crazy-ass driving. If you /had/ a license it would've been revoked a hundred times over by now." The hitch of his wing is a small casual shrug. "He's an efficient ride, anyway. If you have to get --" He eyes one segment of his display. "Three hundred sixty miles before dinnertime." Anette can't help but chuckle at the suggestion of Ion with a license. "Now that's terrifying." She gently places a hand on her belly though as she glances over Ion again. "It's not the efficiency I'm worried about. It's the electricity and month old fetus combination I'm concerned about. I don't suppose you've teleported many pregnant women?" she asks a bit hesitantly. "{/What/?} I'm a totally perfect safe driver I ain't /never/ crash." Ion HUFFS. Exaggerated, /offended/ at these aspersions on his /clean driving record/. Though the feigned drains off his face as, instead, he looks to Anette with widening eyes, abrupt-dawning recognition. "OH /shit/ you mean /that/ this..." His fingers tap rapidly against his thigh, a very small crackle of energy dancing from his hand to his leg. "{Damn yeah} no I don't. Ain't never... that probably ain't no good, huh? It's rough on a lot of people. Growed-up people. Like tase 'em twenty time over kind of a /trip/ right?" He sounds oddly /excited/ about this, even with the concern in his expression. There's a choking-spluttering from Dusk. Luckily, no actual computer /monitor/ in front of him, because the next mouthful of blood he's /been/ taking gets half coughed back out, crimson droplets sprayed straight through the display in front of him to speckle the coffee table rather than his work. When he tips his head back again his eyes are wide. "Embarazada?" He sounds kind of disbelieving. Eyes still wide, he turns hastily back to his computer. Pulls up a new window to start googling: 'taser miscarriage' "Jesus, what the-oh," Anette says, jumping and turning towards Dusk at his outburst before realizing there was /someone/ she had forgot to tell. "Shit, I didn't tell you? I swear I did." She catches sight of his googling efforts, shaking her head. "You really think anything good is going to come up?" She turns back towards Ion and resumes her position leaning against the futon. "I don't suppose taking the train is an option," she says, a bit bitterly as reality sets in a bit. "This fucking sucks." "Ey-ah." Ion's fingers are still crackling. Taptaptapping now, rapidjittery, at his thigh. Frown. "So what's this, then, you just -- out of commission? I shuttle us around plenty." "I mean shit, that's." Dusk is rifling through results now. "Shit." His tongue swipes across his lips, licking them clean, now. "I don't know shit about pregnancies I thought maybe if you weren't far along..." He sounds a little sheepish. Shrugs. Then half-turns in his seat, giving Anette a deeply intense look for Ion's question. "... /are/ you, then? Out of..." He trails off uncertainly. "I mean, when me and Isra..." Another uncertainty. "Neither do I," Anette admits as far as knowing things. She glances behind her, eyes flitting briefly between Dusk and Ion before she sighs softly. "I don't know. I think...I think I can still do things. Regan seemed alright with still...helping. I just...need to be extra careful. And I think I should probably hold off on Ion travel for now." She glances down towards Dusk, tilting her head slightly. "What /did/ you and Isra do?" "Fuck," Ion says this quietly, under his breath. "If you out, you out, I guess. Just gotta run this down a body. I gotta got everyone on site mad soon though or we maybe-fucked." There's a little antsy restlessness to his motions, but he slings an arm around Dusk, then Anette in turn. "Peace." Bites down on his lip, hesitates like he's about to say something else -- then just vanishes. "But what we do, how can you /be/ careful about..." Dusk scruffs fingers through his hair, leaving it even messier than its usual unruly mop. "What did /we/ do?" With a small sag of his large wings: "... gave Egg away." "I know," Anette says quietly, leaning gently into Ion's arm before he poofs away. "Would be a hell of a lot of easier if I were good at the planning or techy bits but I'm not." She removes her jacket, it seems she's not going anywhere after all, and glances towards Dusk as he explains. "I'm sorry," she says, her own wings drooping. For a good stretch Dusk is quiet, eyes dropping to his lap, wings slightly twitching. "What else could we have done?" he finally breaks the silence with. "We put ourselves at so much risk, here. We couldn't do that to a kid, too. Or risk orphaning them so young. It just... seemed like." His smile is a little crooked. Not very much humour in it. "Well, /terror/. No matter how we looked at it." "It does seem like there's no right answer," Anette says. She makes her way around, plopping down on the futon but leaning against the arm, away from Dusk, her wings draped over the side. She gently rubs her eyes with talons as she falls silent again. "Akihiro seems to think we can make it work. I'm not so sure." "It's a rough question. I mean, here we're all likely to -- die and you want what's best for..." Dusk leans forward, now. His elbows rest on his knees, face dropping into his palms. "We didn't give them to Ion, you know. Wait --" He's sat back up abruptly, wings sharply bending with the sudden motion against the futon cushion at an angle that looks /distinctly/ uncomfortable. "/Akihiro/?" The tone has kind of a splutter to it. Thankfully his mouth is not full of blood this time. It does sooort of goldfish open and closed once or twice. Slooowly he manages to close it properly. "Really? What did you originally do?" Anette asks, before her eyes suddenly narrow at Dusk's reaction. She patiently waits for him to finish before raising a brow and continuing. "Who did you think?" "I -- hadn't really thought about it," Dusk admits with a flush of cheeks. "I just wouldn't exactly use his judgment as a --" /Real/ hastily his mouth snaps shut again. He ducks his head, takes a quick gulp from his thermos. Swiftly backtracks to the previous: "We hadn't wanted them forced into -- well, this life. Some friends at the Commons adopted them. Technically," he muses, "probably still their legal guardians. But when they hatched and -- were all bloodsucking and venomous it was. Too much. They were literally killing their guardians." Shrug. "Kay and Ion and an island full of monsters were -- better in some ways." Though his frown has deepened. "Believe me, I take what he says with a grain of salt," Anette says. "But...he's not as bad as he used to be." She lays her head on the back of the futon, listening to Dusk's story quietly. "I think, especially in Egg's case, being here might be his best chance. He's as obvious as a mutant can be life was never going to be easy for him. But here, on the island, with other mutants like him. Who can protect him. I think it's worked out alright." Anette gives a slight shake of her head. "Just my thought." "How has it worked out alright?" Dusk's brows pull inward, deeper, his tone more unhappy than challenging. "One of their dads is already /gone/. Probably dead. They're only just two, Anette. Their other dad'll probably be /dead/ before they're grown. That's about as far from alright..." A shudder runs through him. "I mean, yeah, life would have been shitty for Egg /anywhere/. But... here they're /guaranteed/ to keep losing family. And keep losing family. And keep losing family. We've signed them up for a childhood of watching their whole family die or go to jail. Probably die themselves. No way around that. It's already /started/. They miss Kay bad. And they don't have a choice." "He's still alive. And he has an entire island worth of family who loves him and would move the earth for him. That's got to count for something," Anette leans forward, leaning her arms on her knees before she slowly rises. "No, but you're right. This...this is not a good life for a child. For anyone really." She takes a deep breath, pulling out the hair tie that had been keeping her hair in place, letting it fall across her shoulders. "I'm going to get some sleep," she says, pausing a moment as if she considers saying more before walking off in the direction of her room. Dusk swallows, turning to watch Anette go. His hand scrubs against the side of his cheek, one wing unfurling as if to reach after her -- though pulling back to his side slowly. He pulls his legs up onto the futon, knees curled to his chest as he turns back to stare a little glassily at the display in front of him.