Logs:Foolish

Foolish
Dramatis Personae Lucien, Matt
In Absentia	2020-01-05 "{I'm sure he's on the Google right now looking up all he can about lymphoma.}"
Location <NYC> Tessier Residence - Upstairs - Greenwich Village
The upper floor of this apartment holds the bedrooms; one master bedroom and three smaller ones. One has been converted to a lounge, couches and /more/ books and a large desk by its window. The other two smaller bedrooms upstairs, in strange departure from the rest of the house's style, seem decorated more with younger occupants in mind. One of them, styled largely in purples and blues, has a pair of twin beds with matching butterfly-patterned bedspreads and a similar fabric for the window curtains; a wealth of stuffed toys is neatly arranged on both. The other is very green, its bedspread green-and-black striped; the walls are covered with a host of movie posters. Between the two bedrooms stands a bathroom, cheerfully decorated with colourful mosaic fish in its tiles. The master bedroom, in contrast to the paler, earthy scheme outside, is warm and rich, decorated in deep reds. The exquisitely crafted furniture is dark, with reddish undertones to the mahogany wood. The king-sized bed is stocked with an overabundance of pillows, and more cushions rest in the windowseat. One wall holds a spacious walk-in closet. A table, low to the ground, sits on a thick rug between the bed and the entrance, the right height for kneeling rather than chairs; the checked pattern carved into its surface marks it as a chessboard, though the pieces are not in evidence. The master bathroom adjoins the bedroom; it is large, done in black marble, with an overly spacious glass-walled shower and a similarly large jacuzzi bathtub. The hour has grown quite late, the city outside quieting to a muted background drone, and much of the house is still. The light is still on in the master bedroom, though, where the chessmen have been deployed onto the checkered surface of the little table. Dressed in his white ace of hearts shirt and black pajama pants covered with little hearts, Matt is slouched over the game, nursing a mug of tea. He's been playing more aggressively than usual, and less thoughtfully, leaving the battlefield decimated for both sides. If the rapid carnage brings him any joy, though, it does not show on his face. He finally slides his H pawn forward two spaces, offering an easily escaped threat to his opponent's knight, then drops his free hand to caress Flèche's sleek side where she dozes next to the table. "{'Bode well'?}" There's a sharp glint of humor in his green eyes. "{Calisse! But I hope you didn't disillusion him too thoroughly.}" Lucien has not yet changed for bed, though his jeans and soft green henley look quite comfortable all the same. He has been giving the game a good deal of focus, though it is likely not the knight that currently has a small furrow between his brows. "{I'm sure he's on the Google right now looking up all he can about lymphoma. I told him that you were well practiced at the matter. If cancer were an Olympic sport you could do cancer for --}" His hand unfurls in the air. "{Regrettably, I suppose it would have to be America, now.}" "{Mm. I think in his day they just irradiated the fuck out of you and hoped for the best.}" Matt's eyebrow lifts fractionally. "{That goes for more than just lymphoma. But his innocence is endearing, sometimes.}" His jaw clenches tight. "{I might change my tune in a couple of weeks, I suppose.}" He hugs his tea close to his chest, but smiles bright and fey all the same. "{Psh, *Olympics*. You're looking at an NHL veteran.}" "{I thought I had something going with the four year cycle.}" Lucien's defensiveness is exceedingly mild. "{I doubt his innocence on this matter will last long. He added his offer of assistance to the deluge we have been getting this week. Gods bless him, though, I'm certain he's one of the ones who will actually mean it.}" "{Not even that, this time,}" Matt's reply is light--or at least strives for light--but a bit faint toward the end, "{but I'll accept it.}" He lifts his hand, fingers massaging slow circles on his right temple. "{And Steve's assistance, I'm sure. It's nice having friends who could just casually *Swamp Thing*-carry me if need be.}" His free hand drops down to wrap around the cup, still held close. "{Granted, that tends to become a less and less impressive feat the longer I've been in treatment.}" "{A good many of your friends could heft Steve without giving it much thought.}" Lucien finally does move his knight. He picks up his tea. Sets it back down undrunk. Picks it up again, clenching the mug tight. "{I cleared my schedule this week. I know it -- probably won't be really necessary until later, but I --}" His jaw tightens, his eyes fixing on the mug. Matt's smile is quick and sharp. "{Indeed--they can juggle each other for my entertainment.}" Almost as soon as his gaze drops to the board, he's reaching for his one remaining bishop, threading it through the gap created by his last move--a rather sloppy play, by his standards. "Check." He doesn't look at his brother, either. "{I appreciate it.}" He reaches for Lucien's free hand with his. "{I feel quite the fool, but--I probably *need* it.}" Lucien's hand twitches, tenses, but returns Matt's grip tightly. The touch comes with a heavy shock of worry, exhaustion, fear, not-quite-buried under a keenly throbbing headache that Lucien is currently working to pull back from spilling too heavily into Matt's senses. He lifts his tea to his lips, eyes locking now on the board as one brow quirks upward. "{I have always thought this cancer business quite foolish of you, yes. There is still time to set it aside, you know.}" Matt was plainly bracing for the contact, his power sinking into his brother's to assist with partitioning their respective headaches from the other. Against all weariness, his own immense anxiety and terror have keyed his senses up beyond even the usual hypervigilance, straining desperately for a danger they cannot find and from which he cannot escape. "{You are quite right, of course.}" His laughter, while weak, is genuine. "{I ought to just take up a performance art like a proper Tessier. Miming, perhaps? Or spoken word poetry? Oh! Politics!}" Lucien's worry does not fade, nor his headache, but a slow sense of calm edges in alongside it as his hand closes around Matt's. His thumb brushes slowly against the back of Matt's knuckles, his breathing falling in time with the careful motion. "{Running for president is very in vogue right now. If you do throw your hat in that particular ring I will gladly run your campaign for you. I think we could pull a decent share of the pity vote.}" Matt leans into his brother's calm, his own solace blossoming somewhat more organically at the rhythmic caress. "{Sure, why not? It *will* be a challenge, as pathetic has the current offerings are,}" he allows, "{but I have faith in my years of experience being pitiable.}" He smiles again, determined and bright as he squeezes Lucien's hand back. "{I have even more faith in you}. We'll razzle dazzle 'em."