ArchivedLogs:The Breakdown

The Breakdown
Dramatis Personae Toru, Kay	2014-01-25 Toru gives and has one. Takes place a few hours after the incident
Location <BOM> Beachfront - Ascension Island
Largely rocky and desolate, the majority of the waterfront on this small island is an unwelcoming place. Craggy and forbidding, lined with jagged black rocks, the coast here can take a fair bit of scrambling to navigate. Here and there, though, the coastline levels out to narrow sweeps of pebbly beaches littered with shells and seaweed carried in on the frigid tide. Occasional old trunks of fallen trees dot the narrow beach, victims of the storms that frequently plague the island. One small stretch of the western shore holds a small dock, a few boats usually moored there. Tucked off the mainland coast in Jamaica Bay, the buildings and lights of the city can be seen far across the water. Against the bitter cold night sky, a massive glow of fiery red snarls against the stars - for a moment, the jagged rocks and washed up winter detritus of the beach are illuminated in orange. The rupture of fire makes a roar like tearing satin, then just as rapidly it shrinks down again to a low burn, leaving a column of sluggish smoke. And the night is nearly full black again. Shortly, Kay is crouched on a rock at the water's edge; he wears no jacket, just his kutte over a black t-shirt, the sleeves torn off, skinny jeans, high boots. A wallet chain. Black bandana tied around his bicep. Usual wear. He hardly looks cold - in the faint light of a few remaining cinders, smoldering in the center of a portion of the beach charred black, a sluggish ripple of heat can be seen rising off his shoulders. It ripples lazily through his hair and vest like a desert breeze. After arriving and recovering, to some extent, from the night's events, Toru will have headed to the main cabin to do some first aid on himself. It's when he's headed toward the beach that he sees that flash of orange lighting up the night and, in its own way, leading Toru to his destination. Another few minutes do pass before he makes it to the point where he can see Kay crouched on that rock, the teen limping awkwardly, favoring his right leg. He hobbles across the beach towards Kay, his pace quickening as he gets closer, and it /almost/ seems like he's about ready to /tackle/ the older man off of his perch-- but at the last minute, Toru just falls to his knees, hands on the ground, gathering up two fistfuls of sand. "Where /were/ you?!" He almost screams the accusation, throwing one of those handfuls of sand at Kay, though most of it just blows away in the wind before reaching its mark. "Where the /hell/ were you?!" Up to this point, Kay is business-like scooping up handfuls of icy water to give the char powdering his arms a preliminary scrub down. This close to the beach, the ocean smell is full of woodsmoke and campfire. Under Toru's knees, the winter sand is likely icy cold, even through his pants, and Kay whips around only in time to get pelted across the face with cold pebbles. "Tss!" He hisses, squeezing shut his eyes and turning face rapidly away again when it gets in his /eyes/, an arm thrown up a Little Too Late. "-what the- fff." He's straightening long grasshoppery legs to /stand/ damn quick. Toru doesn't seem to care much about the cold, his second hand brought up to throw that other fistful, but he finally just drops it ineffectually. "Where. /Were/. You," the teen repeats, gritting his teeth. But this time he doesn't wait for an answer; he pushes himself forward, crouching on his hands and knees, head lowered between his shoulders. "We didn't know where you /were/ so we went /without/ you and.. Thea is /dead/, Kay!" And here he finally breaks down, lowering himself to his arms, forehead on the cold ground. "They /killed/ her and she's /gone/ and I couldn't /save/ her.." "/Bones/," a sprinkle of sand kicks up for how abruptly Kay pushes forwards. "/Bones/, man, hey." He doesn't really seem to hear the news about Thea; there's no shock or bat of eye. Not that he's /calm/ - a sharp, locked-tight clench makes his movements sharp and abrupt. Controlled. Soldier-focused. He drops to a kneel, seizing either hand around Toru's shoulders, "Stop. /Look/ at me." He hauls at him hard. "Don't /call/ me that!" Toru thrashes at the sand, unwilling just yet to compose himself, instead just pounding on the ground a few times, balling his hand into another fist, but gradually calming down. He slowly tilts his head up to look at Kay, but doesn't manage to make eye contact, his gaze blatantly drifting off to one side as he mumbles, "My name is /Toru/." And, after a brief pause, his voice cracks with his admission; "I can't do this anymore." "Okay." Kay says this low, his ratty-rough tenor burred and steady - well, steady around the slight jerky strain when there's /thrashing/ to contend with, "Okay." He's still hanging on when the kid gets still; eye contact can be avoided all it wants - but Kay leans in and presses his fever-warm forehead against Toru's, "--/Toru/, then. Look at me." With this close proximity, it's difficult for Toru /not/ to look at Kay, and when he does, his eyebrows are raised with some surprise at the sudden warmth. "/Kay/." He gulps, lifting one of his hands to grip Kay's shoulder for support, almost pulling the other man down with him before he releases that grip again. "Sh.. she /saved/ me. And I couldn't save her, and.. it should've been /me/. It isn't /fair/." "I know." Kay can't really know. But he says it in the same flat-low voice, not arguing. Just stating. "I know, man." His wired-alert eyes are intensely focused, unblinking. The faint fire-side illuminates this much in the deep shadows. Pulling down on him will find a wiry frame /locked/, making Toru more likely to pull himself /up/ before he would be likely to pull Kay down. And even if the kid drops his hands, Kay /doesn't/ remove his own. They give Toru's shoulders a single emphatic /shake/. "It's /not/ fair. It's /not/. Listen to me." Inexorably he's increasing a pull, dragging the smaller man towards himself. Seeking to fix two steel-bar arms around him. They don't quake. They don't tug or plead or force. Just coil. "This is hell. It's /hell/." /That/ gesture is enough to steady Toru noticeably, the teen just letting himself melt, trembling, in Kay's arms. He's silent for a minute, between rasping breaths, but finally whispers, "I shot a guy, and... and she was okay, but then we got outside..." He shakes his head a few times, shifting to move in closer to Kay, one hand gripping the man's shirt. "I-I thought this was gonna be cool, y'know? But every time.. I get like this every time and I can't /do/ this." "Thea." This one word Kay allows to be a harsh exhale; it deflates his chest, and he claps a hand down hard against Toru's back, taking a handful of his jacket like the scruff of a canine. And just shake-grips it, "...Christ, woman." His head shakes once, a kind of abrupt /jerk/ like he's discouraging some winter insect, and the fills up his lungs again. Weathering the news as it sinks in. He shifts his legs to unashamedly sit straight in the cold sand to make it easier to firmpat and jostle-shake Toru's damn shoulders and back, dropping his chin on the other's shoulder. Maybe rocking a little. There's no attempt to really hide it; straight-backed and square-shouldered, staring out into the night, this is comfort taken as much as given. "...I'm sorry. Sorry you had to go through that. I'd trade places with you if I could." With some effort, Toru works himself around to sit facing Kay, his legs wrapped around the older man's waist, arms /clamped/ around ribs, and chin rested on shoulder in a tangled, almost-mirror-image of Kay's own posture. "This /guy/ showed up..." He takes a deep breath, slowly getting to the point where he can actually speak coherently. "From fuckin'... Mutant Affairs. He was filmin', and they killed him, and-- we blew the place /up/, and I kept thinkin' how it was too bad you weren't there 'cause it was.. y'know, with the fire and the breaking shit, and then they.." Toru's grip somehow manages to tighten, but when he realizes what he's doing he lets out a small, almost panicked sound, relaxing his grip -- just enough to feel like he isn't going to crush Kay's ribs. "Everything I touch dies." "Kheh," this is just a kind of Kay-noise, even in this dark moment it's a default laugh-ish sound because the position is a little /weird/. He makes zero attempt to hide /this/ either - nor does he seem troubled by it. If anything, the bemusement is a welcome distraction. The fit is easy; his long-ass torso gives Toru plenty of room to tuck in against, surrounded with a smell of desert-dry heat and ominous brimstone to push back the ocean and the winter. "Knew about the guy showing up," up in his own altitude, he's looking down at Toru's... snazzy jacket. Gives the collar a distracted tug, "-pff, this is badass." Ahem. Arm's drape, "-- By the time I got here, you'd already been sent out." He leans back enough to get a /view/ of Toru's face. Even if his expression seems perpetually lively and wired-awake, his eye contact is grim. Focused fully on the younger man. "What happened." Toru actually manages a pained little smile at the comment on his jacket, but when Kay asks what happened, his face falls again, eyes going downcast. "She told me to run. I didn't want to leave her, but... she made a bunch of big beetles, like Herc, and they were.. they were holdin' their own, y'know? And I was kinda.." He gulps, looks down at his leg. "I got shot. It isn't /bad/, I cleaned it up at the cabin, but-- I don't really know how it happened, but next thing I knew Herc was carrying her, and she was /bleeding/, and the other beetles were /gone/ and Herc brought us back here and--" Sighing, the teen closes his eyes, resting his head on Kay's shoulder and just holding him. "She wants to be cremated, she doesn't want anyone-- /cutting/ her." Hard-spined and wiry, for how loose-boned and lank Kay carries himself, he's absurdly difficult to /move/ or gather. Poor Toru, it probably feels more like hugging a lean collection of rope knots fastened around a rather broad shouldered coat hanger. Radiant with heat, he listens silently, unmoving. It could almost be mistaken for ambivalence. Or callous. It doesn't help much, for how steadily he nods by the end, chuffing out a breath and shaking his head, "Hard-ass bitch." He looks fiercely /proud/, smiling hard, "I'll make sure. No one's touching her." The smile burns back down to a thin line, and he scrubs his long fingers against Toru's hair. "But I need you t'listen to me now, a'right?" "Herc's watching her. He probably ain't gonna leave the cabin. I told her I'd talk to you about it.." Toru lets out a long breath, not so much /avoiding/ looking at Kay now, but he is /incidentally/ managing to avoid facing the man. "I shouldn't have left her, I know I shouldn't have left her..." Whether that's what Kay intends to say or not, he's clearly already beating himself up over it. He takes another minute to burrow against Kay's chest, with little regard for any discomfort in the man's lanky form, but eventually he forces himself to release his grip, pulling away enough to look up at Kay seriously, scrubbing at one eye with the heel of his palm. "Okay." "This is /not/," Kay thumps a fingertip against the center of Toru's sternum like he's trying to start a /fight/, the sides of his nose curling "on YOU. And it's not on ME. It's not on /her/ either. She did the right thing - the /exact/ thing any one of us should do. She fought for her brothers -- and she /died/ for her brothers." Pffffff, he tips up his head to bare a ferocious smile-snarl at the stars, exhaling, "Christ fuck me, and I almost decked her one, once." He snaps back on topic soon enough, back to Toru. He's grinning like this is all /fantastic/ - but also like he's angry. Fucking /furious/. Clapping a warm hand to either side of Toru's neck - like a boxing coach, leaning in to hiss. "This is /hell/. And we gotta stick /together/. We're /lost/ if we don't. Scattered like cockroaches and /lost/." "I didn't mean--" Biting his lip, Toru drops his hands into his lap, looking at Kay uncomfortably, head lowered between hunched shoulders. "It ain't your fault," he admits. "I was just... lashin' out. And I know it ain't her fault, she.. I almost kissed her." He laughs wryly, shaking his head a few times. "I kinda wish I had, y'know? Maybe.." But he doesn't let that thought go anywhere, just shaking his head and looking off to the side again, his hands just tugging idly at the fabric of his jeans. When he does finally speak again, he sounds just as lost as Kay's warning, his voice small and uncertain. "...I'm scared, Kay." Kay looks into Toru's face, watches his head lower between his shoulders until he apparently can't stand it. Because he crams his fist up beneath Toru's chin like a slow-motion upper cut and props it right back up again with a knuckley firmness. "Yeah." He agrees. Silent for a moment. And just... "Yeah." HFFF. Maybe it's pity, or mercy, or maybe he's just /bored/ with it now but he eases up and shifts his arms and shoulders to give Toru a place to shelter into, leaving Kay free to scan the beach. With eyes only, his head doesn't turn. "It's fucked up." Up close, his chuckle is something that can be felt, through his chest - "Hell, maybe we both shoulda kissed her. This world is /short/ on ladies like her." "Shorter now," Toru mumbles, leaning against Kay once more with a little sigh. He just /sits/ there for a minute, content to reflect on the moment in silence, still save for the occasional wriggle to shift into a more comfortable position. But finally, after a minute or two of that, he pushes away, moving to disentangle himself from Kay, shaking his head briskly. "I should-- check on Hercules. And get back to the city. I need to clear my head." "Shorter 'n shorter." Kay looks down at the black bandana tied around his bicep. Places a hand over it for a silent moment - which does mean he unhelpfully lets Toru do all the work of squirming FREE. He'll just sit BACK thanks. "Yeah, tell'm I'll be around," playfulness aside, his voice remains low and worn, scrubbing a hand over features that nevertheless manage a hard, somehow /mean/ smile directed out at the water. Or maybe the New York land mass out beyond it. His eyes never distant. Never blinking. "--remember something for me, would ya?" Toru stops halfway in his journey /upwards/, dropping back to his knees, legs on either side of Kay's. Didn't take much to give him to change trajectory, and when he lands, he grips Kay's legs, one with each hand, holding them with just the faingest grip. But when he looks up into Kay's face, his expression is rather a bit more serious than it had been, most traces of his earlier despair replaced with fierce intensity. "Yeah?" "When they dragged you off the street. Threw you in a cage. Strapped their collar," Kay gentles none of this, if anything looking /glad/ for the focus he sees in Toru, "around your neck. You weren't a part of this. And it happened anyway." He gives the younger man a hearty /smack/ to the leg, grinning, "But you got /out/ 'cause there're folks /fighting/ this shit. This life ain't about dying - Thea'd tell you that much. It's about how you live." He jerks his head towards the distant light of the cabins - there's less now, as people have gone to bed. "You got brothers here. And you got /me/. Anyone lays a finger on one of our brothers," he takes in a breath, his eyebrows raised - the shape of his face raises the outsides more than the insides, forming a faint M-shaped wrinkle to the sides of his forehead, "We'll wipe them off the face of the planet." That reassurance is just enough to get a smile, if a grim one, from the teenager. "Yeah.." He nods once, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh before opening them. "You're usually right." Lowering his head a bit, he almost looks like he's about to add something, but goes to push himself up to his feet again -- but before he actually stands upright, he extends a hand to wrap around the back of Kay's head, fingers twisting into the hair there. Without any further comment the teen leans forward, planting a firm kiss on Kay's-- forehead, breaking away almost immediately to stagger backwards, turning to head back towards the cabins. "I gotta.. gotta go." If this were an ideal world, Kay would be sensitive and understanding! "Gaaaaaaaaay," INSTEAD he squinches up his eyes and monotone DRONES this word when Toru STRIKES, making useless armflails that... don't really accomplish anything other than looking like an octopus. Somehow, it doesn't really manage to /battle/ off the little bastard, and for a moment his grin isn't mean or hard - it's just warm and amused, watching the kid make a break for it into the cold and the night. Until eventually it's just the night again. And there's no more smiling. And Kay climbs back to his feet - and turns to begin stamping a pile of char and ash into the sand, until nothing remains but the smell of campfire.