Logs:More Than Two

More Than Two
Dramatis Personae Hive, Polaris
In Absentia	2020-10-09 << How am I even considering this what is my life? >>
Location <PRV> VL 403 {Geekhaus} - East Village
This is a small, two-bedroom apartment, the living room semi-open to the kitchen and dining area, a single bathroom situated between the doors to the bedrooms. The common areas are beautifully appointed with solid, matching handmade wooden furniture in intricate geometric mosaics. The kitchen table is ringed with coordinated but not identical chairs, two of them modular with low scooped backs, designed with winged bodies in mind. The wide, low coffee table fits neatly into the corner of a modular sectional couch, and the immense television is enthroned in an entertainment center that also houses various consoles and video games. The walls are lined with bookshelves laden with comics, roleplaying supplements, board games, speculative fiction, and a grab-bag of technical texts. The walls in between are adorned with some framed posters of classical science fiction and fantasy media along with a few pieces of gorgeous if unusual original art. It's round about the end of dinnertime -- on a regular schedule, that is, though on the schedule Dawson's been working lately this mostly means his first meal before taking off for work. The apartment still smells like rich spicy pumpkin soup and gingery salad; Hive's own bowl, near-empty, sits long cold on the coffee table where he's tucked himself onto a corner of the sectional. He's in jeans, an oversized well-worn Theta Tau hoodie, Cat purring in his lap. He has had the blue and red Joy-Con controllers in his hands right up until the little sprite on the screen gets impaled by a panel of spikes springing up from a tile on the floor. The screen goes black, THERE IS NO ESCAPE appearing in a banner across the top of the screen as the figure collapses in a pool of blood. "{You're supposed to be helping me out, man,}" Hive grumbles to Cat, setting the controllers aside to pick his bowl back up instead. The front door unlocks and Polaris lets herself in. She's powerfully redolent of coffee and dressed in a spiky black canvas motorcycle jacket over a fitted black t-shirt adorned with a silver graphic of a compass rose and black skinny jeans, her boots, belt and wrist cuffs heavy in steel hardware as usual. Her hair is neatly done up and her makeup only a little blurred, in black, silver and metallic green. "Hey, man," she says by way of greeting to Hive. << Is he still here? >> comes flushed and eager and warm in her thoughts, but aloud she manages a reasonably casual, "Dawson head out already?" Hive doesn't look up when the door opens, but he does grunt something that's vaguely greeting-adjacent. "Just missed him. Be back for breakfast, maybe." He nods towards the kitchen. "Hungry? S'pumpkin. Soup. Plenty left." This statement comes with a small scowl. Hive's reply brings Polaris a profound disappointment followed immediately by a wash of embarrassment for the intensity of her reaction. Her stomach answers the offer of food before her thoughts have quite caught up. "Thanks, that smells amazing." The praise is entirely sincere, and as soon as she's shed her boots she pads into the kitchen to fix herself a sizeable bowl. << Wow...how do I compete with this? >> This as she drifts into the living room. << Yikes, it's not a competition! Just eat the fucking soup... >> She blushes, sinking down to sit on the opposite end of the couch from Hive. "Did the pumpkin soup...do something rude?" "Nah, his dumb ass hasn't been eating enough. Maybe if you actually catch him you'll have more luck than me." Hive rests his bowl on the wide arm of the couch so that he can free up one hand to scrunch fingers down into Cat's soft fur. "It's not a competition." His eyes have lowered, fixed down on the rumbling calico. "... is getting pretty serious though, isn't it?" Polaris glances over at Hive. The flood of her concern puts the intensity of her previous reaction to shame. "Y-yeah, I'll...keep it in mind." She flashes over the last few times she'd seen Dawson eat, then starts to drift on the recollection of his smile and his attention, before abruptly jerking herself back to the present. She's blushing even harder at Hive's question. << Is this where he tells me to back off? He can hear my thoughts he knows how serious I am. Too serious. Ugh! >> She makes a small noise of protest, more at herself than anyone else. "Yeah. Pretty serious. I know it's probably..." << Excessive? Saccharine? Ambitious? >> "...a lot. I can try to keep it under wraps, when you're around." Hive snorts, sharp and quiet as he lets his head fall back against the couch. "Shiiit. If you'd been with him as long as I have --" Now it's jus turn to pinken, only faintly at the tips of his ears. He polishes off the last of his soup, leaning forward briefly to set the bowl back on the table. "I'm not tryna run you off. I just want him to be happy. I'm not his goddamn -- guard dog." His hand, now free, bounces restless against the arm of the couch. He sucks his cheeks inward, gnawing on their insides as his eyes flick to Polaris. "But if you are going to be serious, it's probably. Important. To explain better what I -- what we... are." Polaris just blinks, nonplussed. "I don't think you're a guard dog, I just..." << I mean, obviously he knows Flicker best. It'd probably be unethical to ask him stuff even if he would answer... >> "I dunno, just you probably got a way better idea what'll make him happy, and what won't." << What if I'm not good enough? >> A hollow ache behind this fear. "Anyway, I know you're close, close like brothers." This is attended by the safety and comfort of Wendy's arms around her, independent of any specific memory of being held. "I respect that, I swear. I'm not trying to replace you." "I tend to think nobody's good enough, so I'm a shit person to ask. Thank God he's making that call, huh?" Hive rests one foot on the edge of the coffee table. His knee bounces kind of jittery, shifting Cat who half-falls off his lap, twists, stretches like he meant to end up on the cushion, resettles himself some short distance away on the couch instead. "I didn't think you were -- hnnngh." He scuffs a hand through his hair, fingers running along the side of his skull. "It's more than that. I don't -- fuck. You'd think after all these years I'd have some kind of better -- coming out spiel." Polaris laughs breathily. << Well that kinda makes two of us. >> The raw strength of her longing beneath this is almost breathtaking. Her eyes follow Cat's progress, grateful for somewhere to look that isn't directly at her host. Hive's halting attempts at explanation draw a quizzical expression from her, then a canted head. << Wait, so they are a couple after all? >> There's little jealousy at this thought, but plenty of incipient hurt all that same. << Why didn't Dawson tell me? >> Just as quickly, a flash of shame at her lack of charity. << I dunno, maybe like a lifetime of internalized homophobia? You don't unlearn that shit overnight. >> "Hey, uh...don't worry about me. I mean I've crossed paths with polycules that would make actual enzymes look simple, and I know how to use Google Calendar." Her smile is a bit awkward but encouraging, "We can make it work." The bounce of Hive's leg stops. His eyes fix blankly on Polaris for several beats; when he looks away it's with an abrupt crimson flush in his cheeks, his head bowing. "Oh -- no. It's --" He rubs at the back of his neck, teeth slowly grinding. "We're not a couple. He would have. Told you. I'm pretty sure that polyamory would not -- suit him. So great." The flush isn't fading, this time. "Sorry. This isn't -- clarifying. Anything. I guess -- I should back up and start with explaining... what I do." His hand curls against his knee, squeezing there hard. "It's more than just reading minds." For a moment his eye scrunches up in a small wince. Reluctantly: "Do you know Sense8?" "Oh, sorry!" Polaris's wide hazel eyes go even wider, her blush hot and bright. << Okay, not all coming out is queer, obviously. God why are you so fucking queer that you try to make everything queer? >> She studies her soup very carefully, taking a sip. "Sense8? Yeah, it has got to be like the most Wachowskish thing that has ever Wachowskied." << Wait a minute, he's bringing that up for a reason... >> "Can you...what, like take over people's whole brains?" Though she says this flippantly enough, there's a mountain of discomfort beneath it. Hive's shoulders tense beneath his sweatshirt, fingers plucking at the edge of one sleeve. "Yeah, it's -- a fucking lot. But also... kind of the closest thing I've seen to what it felt like when my brain started..." His teeth clench again, but relax this time before they start grinding. "Yes." His eyes are very focused down on his knobbly knuckles, short-bitten nails picking at the ragged fibers fraying at the edges of the shirt. "But if I don't -- steer it, it's less. Taking over and more." He chews at the inside of his cheek again. "Blending. We feel each other. Are -- each other. Thoughts, experiences. It's hard to -- explain without. Feeling it. It's not like reading someone's mind, it's like sharing his --" He swallows, balls the end of his sleeve tight into his fist. Blinks, eyes still turned down. His voice has dropped softer, uncertain when he finishes, "-- soul." Polaris just stares at Hive, hunger all but forgotten. "Hive mind," she mutters. << C'mon, the guy's name is Hive--okay but I thought it meant something else in Thai--did Wendy figure this out--or maybe he's really into bees--and they did also carry with them deseret, which, by interpretation, is a honeybee... >> All these thoughts flash so rapidly through her mind that her next words do not come at that great a delay. "That sounds really..." << Weird? Fucked up? Hot?--what the hell Lorna this is clearly difficult for him say something--something reasonable-- >> But she's already trying and failing not to think of the orgy scene from Sense8, her cheeks flushing bright red now. She finally does manage to choke out, "...complicated." The scene in her head fades, to her relief, as dozens of questions surface instead, anxious and overlapping. "So you and him..." She wets her lips, fighting down both profound unease and something that feels an awful lot like jealousy. "...you're always...connected, like that?" "Bees are amazing architects." Hive's smile is crooked and quick. "And my name's Jetsadayut, but when we met in the labs, he --" His eyes dart up, briefly, to Polaris; back down to his hands with another flush. "Sorry. Nevermind. No. Not -- not always. It started out -- practical, right. What he does when we're hitting up the labs is -- so fucking dangerous already, the more I could be his lookout, the less --" He swallows hard, fingers digging in against his palms. "But we worked really good together. And then we just -- were. Really good. Together. I've been my teammates, I've been -- a lot of people, but with him it's." His shrug is stiff and jerky. "Yeah. Uh...bees. They sure are," Polaris agrees, cringing inwardly. << Wow, awkward much--wait he just told me his real name is that significant I should try to remember--'Hive' makes more sense than my Mutant Name--okay but I was an edgy teenager at the time--fuck, so were they, fuck Prometheus, there'll be more raids, God fucking-- >> She pulls in a deep breath an lets it out; lets some of the frenetic thoughts and sharp-edged fury go, as well. "Sorry. Yeah no, that...makes sense." << Does it though?! What part of this is normal--what part of any of our lives is normal--when have I ever given a shit about normal--had to go and fall for a guy who already has a soulmate-- >> "Look I--I don't really know what to do with this information. I never wanted to compete with you, or whatever. I don't need to be the most important person in his life--" << --just want him to love me-- >> "--but like, would I be..." She bites her lip hard enough to hurt. "...dating you, too?" << Is it still monogamy if they're kind of the same person? How am I even considering this what is my life? >> The short-rough bark of breath that escapes Hive is almost like a laugh. "I don't think -- any of this is fucking. Normal. Sorry." He's teased out one thread of his sweatshirt longer and plucked it off but now transfers his jerky picking to a ragged edge of cuticle. "Sorry," again, clipped. "I don't -- we don't. I don't have answers for --" His jaw has tensed. He continues picking at the thin strip of skin. "Dawson didn't really have serious relationships. Before coming out, and -- dating is complicated when -- um. I don't really -- do that so." His brow creases. A tiny bead of blood is welling up where he's been picking at his finger; he wipes it away with a frown, curls his fingers back into his sleeves. "Figuring out how to navigate this is kind of. New to us. Too." Hive's second apology jolts Polaris out of the frantic spiral of her own thoughts. She looks up at him, eyes lingering on his hands. << I'm freaking him out. I mean obviously that's gotta suck for a telepath... Or, ya know, he's just freaking out cuz his whole world is turning upside down no biggie. >> "Hey," she says softly, the calm in her voice startling even herself, "hey, friend. This is--this is pretty scary, but...we've all done way crazier sh--" She sighs. << Like he hasn't been hearing me cuss up a blue streak in my head. >> "Crazier shit. We'll figure it out, together. But we don't have to figure it out right now." She puts her bowl down and scoots a little closer to Hive. "If you need to be alone--" << Is he actually alone? >> "--I can steal some of your soup and go. Or I can chill, watch you lose at Hades." Her head tips toward the screen. "Or we can just. Talk? You started to tell me how you got your name, I think--I'd love to hear about that, if you're down." "It's not you. I'm sorry. I just." Hive's shoulders have hunched further. When he does look up at Polaris again it's abrupt, eyes wide and the quick breath he pulls in a little ragged. "Oh -- fuck. I -- really don't, um." He blinks, scrubs his sleeve hard against his eyes. "I don't think you. Really do. Want to hear about -- our lab was a nightmare. I -- was a nightmare." He leans forward, swiping the remote off the table to handing it to Polaris. "You want to just find someone mindless to put on? I think I've had -- too much brain for tonight." "Oh! Sorry." Polaris winces. << Why wouldn't he want to talk about being imprisoned and tortured? Total mystery. >> "I just figured--if that was how you met each other--that doesn't necessarily make it a pleasant story, obviously." << Guess it's nightmarish different ways for everyone. >> She receives the remote and sloppily salutes Hive with it. "Alright, then. How about let's hop onboard the Zomboat! for a while. No brains required."