ArchivedLogs:The Lion and The Bug

The Lion and The Bug
Dramatis Personae Ivan, Lev	2013-06-15 Ivan comes home and is then duly dragged outside by one of his brothers.
Location Russia
Dimmed lights, flashing lights, obnoxiously loud music, grating laughter that sounds like equine death throes, and the piercing clash of glasses composes the symphony of chaos within this shabby little bar. It would have been a terrible choice of location for Lev to drag his younger brother out to get him away from the overwhelming warmth of a homecoming welcome, if not for the remote corner where the thunderous techno is reduced to muzzled thumps behind the wall. Ivan and Lev are all but alone in here, save for a trio of girls that are gleefully and passionately discussing their love affairs and exchanging sex tips before someone shares a particularly crude joke and their conversation explodes with boisterous laughter. Still, Lev insisted that this is a much quieter and calmer place than the rest of the bar, and that he is unfortunately right about. "{So}," he grunts in a friendly fashion. Lev himself is dressed rather predictably - a wife-beater, a tracksuit jacket unzipped all the way to where his belly button would be found. A cap hides his short hair, and he insists on wearing it indoors. A faux golden chain hangs loosely around his neck, as well as a fake golden watch he tried to (perhaps jokingly) convince Ivan is genuine. It's stopped, unfortunately. Finally, he wears matching tracksuit trousers and a pair of terribly worn sneakers. "{American girls, or ours?}" Most important question. If Ivan wasn't so used to sticking out like a sore thumb, he might be caught off guard by that question. But he isn't, and so it hits him as yet another thing he isn't quite sure how to respond to on top of the myriad of others. He himself sits across from Lev, in a yellow and green t-shirt shirt with an upside down black star on it and some simple, old jeans above blue converse sneakers. Sitting perfectly straight, hands in his lap, a posture more befitting a class desk than a bar booth. "{... I don't...}" His eyes are locked onto Lev's face, in a manner curiously implying he may be pretending the rest of the bar, beyond this booth, does not exist. "{I think- you should visit sometime. See for yourself.}" Almost without pause, he adds, "{How much did mom and dad tell you about my time away? I don't know if you were-- home a lot.}" And sober enough to listen. Those thin lips twist thoughtfully. Lev vaguely nods a few times, acknowledging his little brother's response. As always, the calm is before the storm - his voice suddenly flares up, much like his mannerisms. "{Mother thinks it was good for you}", he exclaims, enthusiastically grabbing the half-full glass of beer and lifting off the table with enough force to stir the liquid to the very brim. "{Says you looked more confident every time she talked with you.}" And then he falls silent again, as if considering whether he should add /something/. It's a look that every family member can pierce very easily, by now, probably why he makes a terrible liar. His eyes begin to desperately latch onto a focus point, before they return to the person he is talking to. His lips slightly part and then clamp up again, thinning. Now, however, he at least has beer - and so he takes a swig. Then comes a content sigh - that hit the spot. "{But father}," he continues abruptly, dismissing the considered addendum and shaking his head vigorously at the following words. "{He was always doubting if sending you there was the right thing. But you know our father, he doubts everything, that fucking goat.}" As the obscenity escapes him, he angrily lifts up a hand to gesture accusingly at the absent individual. "{They got into /big/ fights-- Over you, I mean. When you, uh.}" The sibling casts his eyes down, an easily read signal of an oncoming confession. "{When you got into trouble, he got really angry. I got into a fight with him.}" Another hefty swig of beer is imbibed. Ivan's just in the middle of a sip of his coke - a drink undoubtedly obtained only after at least a solid three minutes of Lev trying to convince him to have something with a little more /kick/ to it - when the subject of their father comes up. Though calmly, he lowers his glass to the table immediately afterwards, his eyebrows giving a twitch in concern. "{Was this the first time I got in trouble? Or the second?}" He blinks, then he /too/ looks down, inadvertently copying his older brother. "{Or the third? ... Was there a fourth? I suppose-- before I left-- I...}" He swallows. "{Fuck.}" Shoulders drawing forward, he absently runs a finger up the side of his glass. "{I guess I got into a lot more trouble /there/ than I did here. I don't think I... /ever/ did, here. I only /meant to/ for one of them.}" The next words, though still aimed at the table, are quieter, the tone one might use to give condolences. "{I'm sorry.}" Lev is quietly listening to his younger brother, ponderously rolling his jaw. As the counter of the times Ivan got into trouble goes up, the elder sibling's brows crease further. That hand had gestured earlier rises up again, this time swiftly, as though it were flipping over a miniature version of an invisible table. "{/Fuck that/}," he exclaims, loudly enough to momentarily attract the attention of the girls. "{Fuck being sorry, Ivan.}" Lev nudges himself closer against the table, even leaning forward. The same hand is used to tap four tightly pressed together fingers against his chest. "{Look at me. Do you think I don't have regrets? /Me/? I /punched/ our father in the /face/. They finally found an excuse to kick me out. Yes, I regret it.}" That palm lands on the table, then. "{But I would do it again. Right in his mug.}" The impetuous bastard twitches his head sideways and shows off a toothy grin, mighty proud of his deed. Yet the bright features dim somewhat when he brings himself to continue. "{Ivan, I have no idea what kind of adventures you had in America, but a person /needs/ trouble. Problems make us stronger.}" As his next words arrive, he shrugs his shoulders high. "{What are you going to do here? Have mother serve you life on a silver platter while father knocks it out of your hands? Did you forget why are you even with me here in this dump?}" A smug, knowing grin thins Lev's lips. "{Because even this dump is quieter than home.}" As though Ivan sees the palm hitting the table coming, he lifts his glass a split second before it happens, preventing the potential clatter of glass against a cheap, unstable piece of furniture. He's quiet, content to listen, and a smile finds its way onto his face as he sits back. A smile that veery slowly start bordering on a tiny grin. He waits patiently for Lev to stop speaking until he speaks up again. "{I'm going to get a job, so I won't have to depend on anyone while I'm here and can replay the debts I've caused.}" He says, with the security of an ignorant teenager about to go into his first underpaid job. "{Mariya's husband,}" Their brother by marriage, "{he knows some people in construction, and they can always use a few more hands. They won't pay much, because they said I don't have any experience and also I'd be the youngest one there but I can try. Also I'm not very...}" He shrugs, sort of one-sidedly, before lifting an arm and /tensing/. Flexing- ... his almost nonexistent muscles. Before-- oh! He lowers his arm and reaches for the neck of his shirt, pulling the fabric aside and toward one shoulder. Clearly this CANNOT WAIT. "{Did I show you? I have a scar! It's sort of-- it's sad but, it's also kind of /awesome/. I think maybe it'll heal up entirely, eventually, because they were just /bites/. But look. I have more on my side, too.}" He, too, leans forward to show off the skin between neck and arm, and the curiously tiny sharkbite-y scarred over marks left there. His eyebrows go UP, then down again. A bit conflicted about how excited he should be about this. "{I brought bees in and they /stung/ someone, and then his brother jumped to defend him. That was the first time I got in trouble.}" "{Construction? You?}" A slight little chuckle is offered, albeit it's not really condescending. Clearly, Lev is entertained by the thought. "{See? Ivan who I know-- Ivan who we know? Would never work at /construction/.}" Curiosity overwhelms him when Ivan begins to pull on the fabric of his short, just so that he could show off-- A scar? There's an absent-minded curve of a whistle as Lev leans in to get a better look at the baby. "{Fuck me}," he notes with respect oozing from his tone. There's a rising 'ohhh' from the three girls not far from the two, and one of them can be heard also sharing a comment: "{Not bad!}" Lev momentarily looks to the girls. "{Yeah, that's my /brother/!}" he announces, pointing at Ivan, angling his index finger from above. "{And you want to leave that behind?}" A shake of the head disapproves any negativity Ivan might attach to the memory. Slowly, he sinks back into his seat, silently regarding his younger brother a moment longer. "{What happened those other times? Come on, Ivan, what happened there that was so bad that made you want to stay /here/? Tornado? Earthquake?}" Suddenly, it dawns on him. Of /course/. His eyes widen. "{You broke up with your girlfriend?}" It doesn't seem like Ivan is immediately sure of what his response to the girls should be, fingers unhooking from his shirt uncertainly to let the fabric spring back into place as he watches them with his head slightly angled in thought. It's only when his brother's enthusiasm joins the fray that he's smiling again, once more assured of the fact that all is well. His attention shifts momentarily between the girls and his brother, before settling on the latter. He sits, then, slightly more cheery looking- at least until that last question. "{No- no no, no, Rasa, she--}" His eyebrows crumple together for a moment, a look Lev might come to recognise as one that Ivan might pull when he's about to say something he suspects is a /terrible/ thing to say... or when he expects he already has, "{-- is amazing. Everyone there is amazing. The, uh. The next two times weren't as impressive. I scared a student with Lena,}" He looks up for a moment, observing his brother's face to see whether he remembers the 10-year-old cobalt blue tarantula's name as he demonstratively crawls one hand across the table in front of him, palm up and fingertips only touching its surface, "{and he /teleported me/. To 'Chinatown'. It was very confusing but I found a lot of cockroaches. And the third time,}" He sort of /natters/ on in a way that may make most of the students at Xavier's stare at him as though he were someone else entirely, before finally just... muttering, eyes flitting to the side, "{I, um. Ipunchedsomeoneintheface.}" "{Rasa?}" Slowly yet surely, Lev's enthusiasm is overtaken by confusion as Ivan speaks further. Still, it's not a disapproving sort of confusion, much closer to 'and then what' rather than 'what the hell are you on about'. As usual, the tales Ivan has to tell - and the way he chooses to tell them - coaxes Lev to drink again. After another hefty swig is taken, the glass lands on the table a bit too loudly, for which he murmurs an apology without interrupting his brother. He rubs a cheek with a hand, sighing. "{Och, Lenochka.}" How could he forget the tarantula that claimed his cigarette pack once. And then Lev stirs again, shifting in his seat with surprise like a rumbling volcano. Very much like a volcano, he also erupts with energy. "{China town? Which one?}" The question is asked as though he was actually asking to point at some foe that has dared to wound his sibling, be it through words or otherwise. "{Did you punch someone in China? Wait, why did--}" The cackle that comes is a mixture of amusement and anxious confusion. "{Brother, you /punched/ someone?}" His eyes check up on the younger brother's hands. Yep, still attached to his wrists, miraculously enough. "{Don't tell mother. Especially don't tell father.}" "{It was- the one very close to school, not more than two hours away.}" Ivan scrambles to answer, before his hands sliiide slowly back off the table and into his lap again. Sort of defeated, even if his expression doesn't change very much to reflect it, his gaze locked curiously onto his brother again. "{I think-- I think one of them must know. I think they- they have to tell parents these kind of things?}" He's asking more than saying, like he expects his brother to know /better/. "{I wouldn't have done it if- I mean, there was this guy, he... he told Rasa to hide her /face/. Because, she's a- does a thing where... she changes shapes and- colours and...}" He gestures up to his own face, sort of uselessly and lacking in any real indication of what the hell he actually means. His shoulders sink down slightly until he just flatly decides to go with "{... It's just /really pretty/, Lev.}" Lev it is /really pretty/. The boy might be smitten. The knowledge that the parents must be informed is news to Lev, although that shouldn't be a surprise. He flicks up a hand to adjust his cap; for a moment it might look like he's about to take it off, but he only lifts it high enough to scratch at his scalp, right before setting it back down. Continuing to listen to his brother, he finally finishes his drink, this time gently laying the glass back down on the cheap worn surface. "{/She/ is pretty}," he corrects Ivan. A sigh is vocalised with the Russian equivalent of 'oh boy', a long and drawn out 'oi' sound. As he sighs, he reclines in his seat yet again. "{Punched a guy to stand up to your girl, huh? Ivan, you have really changed. You were always this quiet little--}" His hand wildly shoots up, gesticulating vigorously at the word that escapes him until he finally decides, "{--/bug/.}" An insult, perhaps? Far from it; the diminutive-laden word is a common enough form of referral to an introvert. "{All these troubles you had? They made you grow as a person. Still a very little person, but they were /good/ for you. Here, everyone will be telling you what to do again.}" That same hand from before rises up to grind against his forehead. "{Oh, fuck me, /I/ am preaching. Ivan, what are you doing to me.}" Another sigh, and as that hand collapses limply on the table, Lev looks to Ivan in a similarly defeatist manner. "{Don't make any rushed decisions. Work here for the summer, /then/ decide, okay?}" Though worry makes its way into Ivan's face first, amusement soon follows it. Yes, Lev, you are preaching. And it is apparently very entertaining. The younger brother nods soon afterward, though, certain and determined. NOD. If he's bothered by being called a bug then he is certainly not showing it. "{... There were good things too.}" He continues slowly, though enthusiasm starts to seep through as he tries to remember exactly which. "{My roommate- he's pretty much an American superhero. Like /Batman/. With webby shooting things and jumping and fighti-- well, surviving. And he /saves people/. Sort of like my advisor - sort of like a mentor? - he actually... saves a lot of people.}" There's a brief spot of confusion that reflects both on Ivan's face and in his voice, but distraction whisks it away again, "{He's. Really sparkly, but he helped me set up /beehives/. With real bees. And there's this girl and she can /make/ all kinds of stuff- she made me this perfect samovar, and there is a girl who can /move pictures with her mind/, and this Korean boy who I'm pretty sure is actually really dangerous but I /think/ is trying not to be? And these twins that are sort of like sharks and they look /really cool/ with gills and teeth and they're actually- really scary, Lev. But-}" He lowers his voice, as though even /here/ he doesn't want people to hear it, "{I think they're kind of sad because people assume they want to eat people? And sometimes. I think. They might. But they're--}" Hmh. He takes a deep breath, looks to Lev for a moment with his eyebrows lowering like he's trying to find the exact right wording for this, "{/Really/-- good friends with my roommate, who is my /best friend/ so, I.... try?}" That'll do. "{I think- I'm still a quiet little bug, most of the time. I just didn't have times before when I... couldn't be.}" Again, he throws an expectant sort of look up to his brother, who he clearly suspects to be the wiser one. While Ivan rambles, Lev quietly listens. Fortunately, he is still sober enough to listen to the entirety of that affectionate ramble, his face changing the degree to which he is surprised. The highest levels are reached whenever Ivan highlights one point of his story or another, which is when Lev shoots both of his eyebrows up, widens his eyes and nods slowly. Really, huh. Wait, what. How is that. Does not compute. As best as he might try to keep up, at some point - closer to the end - Lev's ability to comprehend is derailed. It's Ivan's last few words that manage to put his brother back on track. "{Okay, Ivan, first of all,}" he starts, shuffling to lean forward again, bringing both of his hands forward, keeping them elevated above the table around an invisible crystal ball of wisdom. "{First of all, little brother, you need to slow down, okay? Like you said, you didn't have times where you're not a little bug before, and now that you do, you're just--}" Those hands spread, pushed back by an unseen explosion of emotion. "{/Everywhere/.}" One hand falls down, whereas its sibling extends further to point a finger at Ivan, tutting. "{You are a clever little guy, Ivan. America is a big, noisy place. Mother and father would not send you there if they did not think you could handle it, would they? But I think you need a /break/.}" That broken watch is looked at, before Lev is once again reminded it is broken. With a weary sigh and the roll of his eyes, he starts to slide free from his seat. If his voice was borderline stern moments ago, now it is once again brimming with positive energies. "{Come on, let's go for a walk. Tell me, what did you miss the most?}" "{Family.}" Ivan's answer comes without thought, before finishing his drink and leaving his own seat when his brother starts to rise. "{I thought for a while I found- something... like it. But it was--...}" He trails off, then shakes his head, breathes in and puffs out his chest. Nope. No sadness today. Denied existence. "{It's good to see everyone here again. Even if it's in some ways just as noisy as America. But a different kind of noise. Family noise.}" He saunters after Lev on his way out, his expression a solid mix of concern and timid amusement. "{... Did you miss me?}" There is a bit of a pause when Lev receives his question. The elder brother looks to his younger sibling as though he were mad. At least, initially. A bit of a smile creeps onto that face, and Lev carries on towards the exit of this part of the bar. Laying his hand against the door leading back into the noisier part of the place, Lev pauses to look back to Ivan, his smile now a wide toothy grin. "{Very much. I never noticed you as much as I did until you were gone. I'm glad you're back home.}"