ArchivedLogs:Stormcrow

Stormcrow
Dramatis Personae Lucien, Micah, Matt	10 September 2014 Good news, bad news.
Location <NYC> Tessier Residence - Greenwich Village
Understated opulence claims this spacious and well-kept townhome, the decor throughout the whole of it of the highest quality and carefully chosen. The front door opens onto the entrance hall, a closet close at hand to receive coats and shoes -- the pale hardwood floors gleam underfoot, unsullied by tracked-in mess from outside. The living room beyond the entrance is all dark woods and pale earth tones, comfortable couches and armchairs and a thick soft rug laid down beneath. Two large and painstakingly aquascaped aquariums flank the entrance to the dining room, with several brightly coloured species of fish within. Most of the rest of the wall space, notably, is taken up with shelves -- shelves crammed with books of every subject and genre. A study branching off of the main hall is cozy, small, done in pale blues and lined with books as well around the large computer desk and smaller futon, though these rarer books are cased behind glass. Another securely locked door leads to the basement, and another to the full bathroom downstairs. The kitchen connects to the living room; in contrast, it is sleek and modern and well-appointed, stocked by someone who takes their cooking seriously. And takes their alcohol equally seriously -- to one side of the kitchen there is a fully-stocked bar. The back door to the kitchen looks out on a small well-kept garden. Lucien was not actually /awake/ when Micah called his phone, but presumably Matt relayed the message to him -- he is, at least, out of bed by now. Even nominally dressed, in jeans and a soft green v-neck tee. He still might be slightly failing on the wakefulness part, though; he's relocated from his bed down to the living room, where he's fallen /back/ asleep with his head rested in his brother's lap. It is probably testament to the hours he's been keeping that even the cup of tea sitting on a coaster on the coffee table hasn't kept his attention, barely sipped at and going cold now where it sits. Matt is /actually/ awake, dressed in cargo pants and a red t-shirt featuring Calvin and Hobbes riding the Millennium Falcon. He's reading a copy of /A Winter's Tale/, book held in one hand and his other resting lightly against his brother's hair, trailing fingers through it in absent petting that leaves it more /mussed/ than is Lucien's wont. Micah hurried over to Lucien's moments after hanging up with Matt, work to be postponed for what is likely to be a rather late night instead. He is dressed still in sneakers, bluejeans, and Reading Rainbow-dash T-shirt, though his hair has become /more/ of a mess from his fussing at it meanwhile. A small Tupperware container in his hands looks to be full of cookies (likely sent by Jax) and he is restless-fidgety where he stands waiting. There's a small shift of motion at the sound of the door, but ultimately Matt doesn't get /up/, biting his lip and looking down at his brother for a moment. Instead he sets his book down, picks up his phone instead to send Micah a brief text: 'door's open'. Hm. The vibrating phone in Micah's pocket startles him into a small jump before he realises what it is and fishes it out to check the text. The door opens to admit one smallish redhead soon after, who leaves his shoes at an appropriate spot in the entryway before moving into the living room. His steps come up short upon seeing Lucien asleep. “Ohgosh, he's still /out/.” His eyebrows knit, tone apologetic. "Was out all night. He only got home just before noon," Matt explains, shaking gently at Lucien's shoulder. At first this only earns a little bit of Lucien burrowing further in closer to his brother, eyes scrunching a little tighter in sleepy protest. Shortly after he actually opens his eyes, covering a yawn with the back of his hand. "{Tea?}" is the first hopeful thing he says to his brother, in French. "I made you some. It's half cold." Matt's reply is in English, fingers rubbing at Lucien's skull. "Micah brought cookies. Could make /more/." Lucien's head tips back, eyes squinting up appraisingly. Towards the cookies, not the man. “Ohgosh,” Micah repeats, this time with the addition of a fisted hand circling his heart. “Mornin', hon,” he adds when Luci shows some signs of life. “Safe cookies; Jax made 'em. Fancypants oatmeal chocolate chip.” Moving closer, Micah kneels by the couch beside the brothers, opening the container and holding it up like a small peace offering. Lucien pushes himself upright, reaching out to pluck a cookie out of the tub. "I think it is afternoon." He doesn't sound /entirely/ sure, admittedly. "You're just waking up. That's morning enough." Matt takes two cookies. He slides up off the couch when Lucien sits up, picking up the mug of tea to head back to the kitchen and reheat it. "Only nominally awake," Lucien answers dryly, curling his legs up beneath himself and taking a small bite of the cookie. He looks at Micah -- a little expectantly. "/Why/ am I awake?" “It is. I just think it deserves t'be mornin' for at least the first hour a person's up.” Once the others have gathered cookies, Micah replaces the lid and slips the container onto the coffee table. Hands freed, he signs a second apology. “You're /just/ wakin' up...” His lips twitch over to one side, considering how much is /okay/ to dump on a person before he's had his first cup of tea. “S'two things. One urgent, bad news. One...just time-sensitive, but good news. What're you up for just now?” "For just now?" Lucien's brows lift, eyes dropping to the cookie in his hand. "Breakfast. Come, sit." He pats at the couch beside him. "I have had entirely enough of men /kneeling/ before me already today. It's making my brain want to slip back into work mode." Well, the third apology comes with a fierce blush, at least, to vary it up a bit. "Ohgosh, I was just...there wasn't room before." Micah hauls himself to his feet just long enough to transition to the couch cushion indicated. Once seated, he leans in to offer a small hug, as always avoiding uninvited skin contact. "Hi. S'good t'see you." Things are all out of order, but at least the niceties exist. Better late than never. "Mmm." Lucien finishes off the cookie in two hungrier bites, licking his fingertips clean. He leans in to the hug, closing his eyes again and tipping his head forward to rest his forehead against Micah's neck. It's a sleepy touch, both in the motion and in the faint whisper of drowsiness that transfers with it. It comes, too, with a quiet slow assessment of Micah's mood. "Good. Yes. I feel like I rarely do, lately." With the lean in, Micah wraps his arms a little tighter. "We were away for awhile. An' things've been one mess after another since we got back, seems like." The exhaustion that runs paramount in Lucien's assessment may only have a slight bit to do with the delivered drowsiness. There's a nervousness tied up with a touch of sick-bitter-disappointed hurt lurking further below the surface, a matter for later. It gives way easily to a pleasant, warm, /steadied/ feeling sitting curled close to Lucien just now. "When aren't things one mess after another?" Lucien's lips give a very small twitch, his hand dropping to rest on Micah's knee with a small squeeze for the feelings he picks up form the other man. Matt returns from the kitchen, mug of tea steaming in his hands. Now /he/ kneels in front of the couch, setting the mug on the arm of the sofa nearest Lucien. "I don't know. I've been feeling like things are pretty alright, lately. What's messy now?" Micah's lips tug into a smile at that small gesture of affection, his own hand lifting to pet at Lucien's back. “More spectacular than usual,” he clarifies...since such things do need clarification given recent history. He cuts a sidelong glance at Lucien with Matt's question. “That... Mmn. Depends what Luci wants t'hear when an' in what order.” Lucien grimaces when Matt kneels in front of them. He takes the tea but /then/ lifts a hand from Micah's knee to swat lightly at Matt's head. "{Fuck you.} Get up." It is a good-natured tone for all the cursing. Matt smirks, grabbing the container of cookies off the table and taking them with him to collapse down into his armchair. Lucien doesn't answer Micah's question straightaway, instead lifting his tea to sip at it slowly. He stays quiet until his cup is half emptied, only then lowering it again with a small shake of his head. "Good news is rare enough from you. Let's have that first." Micah snickers at the brotherly play between the pair. His laughter fades into a sigh, however. “That much of a stormcrow, am I?” Despite this, he nods at Lucien's request. “So, I got arrested over the weekend.” It seems like a poor start to a good news story. “Turns out I was the first, under the no-mutantin'-in-public law.” Another smirk flirts with the corner of his mouth at that as he watches for a reaction. Lucien snorts some of his tea up his nose at this, leaning forward to set it back on the table as he splutters for his breath back. His eyes are slightly watery, knuckles pressing to his lips as he turns a rather incredulous look on Micah. Over in his chair, Matt's brows just raise, a cookie pausing halfway to his mouth. "Ah --" He glances between the other two. "You were what? Micah, you're not a mutant." "I might've noticed that, thanks," Micah replies dryly, though amusement is still evident in the way it lights his eyes. "Turns out I'm obnoxious enough for the cops t'think I'm one." He gives a little pat to Lucien's back as the other man tries to clear his airway of tea. "There was some kids defacin' some poor person's door with anti-mutant messages right under a pair of cops' noses. So Jax had t'give the kids a hard time, naturally... Long story short, the kids tried to spray-paint another person who stopped an' Jax put up a shield t'save her coat. An' I annoyed the cops into thinkin' it was me. Never /said/ it, though, they came t'the conclusion all on their own." A chuckle finally sneaks its way out. "But I thought maybe Luci might reprise his role as secret PR man for The Cause an' give me some direction on how best t'take advantage of the situation. Could be fun. Oh, also, I have it on video." Matt presses his palm to his mouth, hiding his growing smile through Micah's story though the amusement in his eyes is clear enough. "Wow. I knew the cops were incompetent but that really takes the --" "Fantastic," Lucien's quieter murmur cuts in, a small tug of smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "My goodness, you've outdone yourself. Will you send me the video? Straightaway. When did this happen, we shouldn't lose more time." He picks his tea back up once his coughing is well and truly over. He turns slightly to the side to regard Micah over the rim of his cup as he sips at it. "Though you realize by the time this is through, the police will -- goodness. Either have it so much more strongly in for your family than they already do or -- just be so wary of you they won't touch any of you even if they get a report you're torching NYPD headquarters in broad daylight." "It's really impressive. I mean, I /carry/ my registration card. It was in my wallet. They must not've looked for it or thought I'd lied on it or... I can't even say." Micah's head shakes at the unbelievable nature of the whole event. "Friday night. I meant t'tell you straightaway, but...well, first I was in holding all night an' then...mess, like I said." He wastes no time in sending the video, however, pulling his phone from his pocket and getting the link to Lucien in a matter of a few swipes. "Don't know that it's /possible/ for 'em t'have it more out for us. That's. Um. Kinda the other thing." "I imagine quite a few people have lied on registration." Lucien's voice is dry and faintly amused with this. It draws another smirk out of Matt, though he doesn't say anything. At least not except for a curious, "The other thing?" "That would be the bad news from our stormcrow." Lucien's tone hasn't really /changed/ with this. "Alright. The other thing?" Micah looks apologetic again, squirming a bit in his seat. His hand /twitches/ but doesn't go so far as to sign the apology this time, at least. "Someone finally tipped 'em off about Neve." Not Nox. She never did get back to being Nox. "But she weren't there when they came. They tossed the whole place. Wrecked almost everythin' worth wreckin'. Even Jax's studio an' m'van. Came back t'day an' took /all/ of Dusk's computer equipment. Even his phone. We think for the surveillance footage." His teeth dig into his lower lip, just worrying at it before finding the words to continue. "Dusk went back through the footage. Last thing that happened at her house was /you/ leavin' Friday night. Then her sneakin' out with s'much luggage as she could carry in the wee-smalls Saturday mornin'. We ain't had no word nor sign from 'er. An'...Luci, once they see that video y'better bet they'll come here, too." His hand returns to its petting at Luci's back, slow wandering circles. "I was hopin' maybe she said somethin' t'you durin' one of your sessions, 'bout where she might've gone. 'Cause she didn't so much as /look/ at me after y'all started 'em. An' they're not gonna stop harassin' any of us 'til they find 'er." His free hand finally does fist, circling over his heart now. It's practically a tic. A tension sets into Lucien's frame, coiling there tight the longer Micah speaks. His fingers have clenched hard around his mug, his expression blank and his eyes focused down on his cup. When he finally does speak it's quiet and toneless, seemingly stuck on: "She is gone?" Micah's arm slides to a firmer hold around Lucien's back instead of the petting as his tension grows. “Very much so. Were she a /mouse/ those officers would've found 'er, the way they went through /everythin'/. Hon, I'm...” There is definitely a silent 'sorry' hanging there. “I wanted it, too. For her t'be more /her/ after the mind-fixin'.” Lucien's eyes don't lift from his tea, nailbeds pressed white against the side of the mug. When his silence continues, Matt puts the cookies aside, slipping over to perch on the arm of the couch and curl his arm around Lucien's shoulders, squeezing tight. For a brief moment Lucien's tension breaks, posture crumpling in against his older brother's side with a soft ragged breath escaping him. Only a moment, and then he stiffens again, slowly pushing himself up off the couch. "Ah -- no, she. Said nothing to me about --" He draws in a deep breath as he turns aside. "Forgive me, I -- need to." He doesn't actually finish this sentence, just heading quickly out of the living room, disappearing into the kitchen and out its back door into the walled garden beyond. The door closes rather firmly behind him. Matt lifts a hand to drag his palm against his cheek. "Yeah. A – mess." "I didn't mean..." Again, the signed apology comes. "I had t'tell 'im. He was gonna find out one way or another an' it seemed...kinder. Hearin' it from someone who knows..." Micah's teeth cut deeper into his lower lip. "Matt, y'might need t'help 'im. The second the cops see that video they're gonna get themselves a warrant an' they'll turn /this/ place upside down. It might be better t'find somewhere else for the kids t'stay 'til it's over, so they don't hafta go through... It wasn't pleasant for the kids at the Commons." His jaw tenses again. "You'll wanna make sure that there's no illicit substances or anythin' incriminatin' here. If y'got things that're valuable an' easily broken, it'd be good t'find somewhere else t'put 'em." He shakes his head slowly. "An' I'd like t'say we'd take the kids or store your things, but they could come back an' do the same t'us at any time." "No, this was -- definitely preferable to. To finding out by getting raided by the cops." There's a faint unsteadiness to Matt's voice, his eyes tracking after where his brother has left. It takes a moment before he pulls his gaze back to Micah. "She's really gone, then? She just... just." He trails off, sliding down to sink onto the couch properly, teeth digging down against his lip. His gaze flicks towards the stairway back upstairs at the mention of illicit substances, and he nods slowly. "We don't really. Have anyone we can bring the -- the kids to. I guess we'll just have to. To hope they're at school if they -- when they." "Like a thief in the night. No word t'anyone." Micah wraps his arms around Matt, now, the last person he was comforting having vacated the space. "Just...keep a thought t'anythin' y'don't want found. Or Luci. They'll arrest 'im on...any number of things. So. I'd just go over that as soon as y'all are up to it. An' find a place for anythin' y'care about that can get tossed easy." He sighs heavily, arms curling tighter. "If y'get enough warnin' /to/ get the kids out, you're welcome t'bring 'em t'us. Don't imagine they've got enough forces t'waste on bein' at /both/ of our places at the same time." Matt sags in against Micah, dropping his head to rest his cheek on the other man's shoulder. There's a definite growing dampness where his cheek presses against Micah's shirt. "I just can't believe she -- I mean, he was hoping. We were hoping." He lifts his hand to scrub his palm against his face, reaching for Lucien's abandoned tea to take a gulp. "Luci's books are the most damage-able thing but where are we gonna stash a library." His eyes close, fingers curling tight against the nearly empty mug. "I'm sorry. I know this must be really hard for you, too." One of Micah's hands lifts to pet at Matt's hair, his lips shushing barely audible in a soothing manner. "I know. I was hopin', too. That it was just that place, those people, the procedures... That she'd come back to us after an' be /aware/ just how wrong it all was. An' be her again." He shakes his head firmly, enough to shake the messy locks of his hair along with the movement. "Ev'rybody told me. Not t'trust 'er. Not t'expect anythin' of 'er. Not t'expect so much of the brain fixin'. I got no right nor cause t'be surprised." Yet those words still force their way through a tightened throat. "Maybe... The best I can think of her just now is that everythin' comin' back t'her clearly was too much an' she couldn't handle...even thinkin' straight. Just had t'get away. An' maybe once she realises, she'll turn herself in. I'm not /optimistic/ 'bout the likelihood, but that's the best I could think." "I'm not sure things like this are -- I was /there/. I watched what they did to her. And /I/ still hoped --" Matt shakes his head again, pulling away from Micah with an audible sniff as he rubs his knuckles fiercely against his eyes. "Sorry. I, um. I should probably." But here he falters, looking down at his knees. "... I don't really know what to do from here," he admits softly. "This is going to be. Hard." "I know. I know, it's devastatin'ly disappointin' an' we'll have time t'be a little broken over it, but /later/. Now there's things that need doin'." Micah takes a few deep breaths himself, hugging Matt /tight/ and then releasing him. "Take a minute t'get it t'gether. Pack each of the kids emergency bags if they don't already have 'em. That'll give Luci a minute t'get 'imself t'gether. Then y'get 'im t'tell you what t'do with any illegal or incriminatin' stuff. An' then if there are things any of y'can't bear t'part with that y'can find a place t'stash...maybe at the school with Desi for a bit? Take care of that. Everythin's hard anymore." Matt pulls in another breath, rubbing his hands against his pants. "Right. Later." Nodding, he rises, tea in one hand and his other scrubbing through his hair. "/Everything/ can't be hard. It's just. one more storm to get through before we get to rest." “Just for now. Just for now.” Micah pulls himself to his feet, as well. “What can I help with? 'Til Luci's able. I gotta get back t'repairin' the mess they made of m'patients' orders when they trashed the van, but I should be able to help 'til Luci can.” He reaches out to squeeze Matt's shoulder. “We'll get through this.”