Logs:Spare Room

Spare Room
Dramatis Personae DJ, Matt
In Absentia	2020-12-11 "Gods know it'll be hard filling his shoes, but I--I'll try."
Location <PRV> Across the Rift - 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. The funeral isn't until Sunday, but plenty of concerned friends, colleagues, and other well-wishers have passed through the riftworld Tessier residence today, leaving the place festooned with flower arrangements and sympathy cards. Supper has come and gone--or, at least, the time when supper might have otherwise happened if they haven't been receiving a steady stream of donated food all day. The rest of the family--what's left of it--has retired upstairs, leaving Matt to his drinking. He's sitting at the kitchen counter, dressed in a pressed white broadcloth shirt, top button undone and sans tie, sober black vest and slacks. His hair is gently touseled, his shoulders slumped, and his eyes just a touch red yet not puffy. There's a second glass of Scotch at the empty seat beside him, untouched. DJ's arrival is sensible to Matt well before he appears, the familiar flickering strobe of his power passing by the house and lighting somewhere in the basement, fluttering again, stopping just within the inner basement door, vanishing again. Circling back around, stopping this time just outside the door out to the back garden. He's dressed simple though a cut above his usual farm clothes, grey trousers, a white button-down, a warm black peacoat over top, its empty left sleeve a new development since the last time Matt has seen him. Hugged in one arm is an aluminum casserole tray covered in foil, and he wrestles with it several seconds before bracing it between chest and elbow rather awkwardly in order to venture a tentative knock at the door. Matt has downed the rest of his whiskey and started heading for the back door by the time DJ knocks, though at a leisurely enough pace not to feel too awkwardly immediate when he pulls the door open. "Please, come in." His smile is gentle but weary as he waves his guest in, his keen green eyes lingering on the empty sleeve. "Here, let me take that," he offers with a nod at the casserole dish. "Can I get you something to drink? We've got all the usual, and I can whip up some cocoa if you don't mind the wait." There's a trace of relief in DJ's expression when Matt takes the dish. "Sorry," he says reflexively, "it's not as good as Polaris's but I tried." He slips inside, stops just inside the door to pull off his loafers and line them up neatly. There's still a crisp outside chill clinging to his clothes when he draws nearer and pulls Matt in for a lopsided but fierce hug. "You don't have to -- you look exhausted. I'm sure you've had no end of visitors, I just -- I heard. And I'm -- so sorry." "Pray do not think to apologize for coming to support us in our time of need," Matt's chiding is exceptionally gentle as he sets the casserole dish on the counter. "I'm sure it's delicious, and Gae is a bottomless pit these days." He leans into the embrace, wrapping an arm around the other man carefully and at a slight delay. His head settles to rest on the other man's shoulder for a moment before he pulls away. "I am," he admits, "just a bit tired, but the guests have been sensitive to that. My students elected representatives to convey their sympathies. I beg you will stay a while, at least--have you come far?" "That's very -- organized of them." DJ's eyes are sweeping the assemblage of flowers. Ticking with a mild curiosity around the room before they snap back to Matt. He moves further into the room, leaning heavily up against a counter. "No, not far at all," he says, at first, and second, "-- oh gosh. But also farther than I even really understand. I have no idea how much you know but there's this whole different world that keeps..." He trails off here, his jaw tightening and his head bowing. "Sorry. It's a long story that you don't. Need right now. There's just been so much weirdness and I --" His hand drops to his side, pressing his palm down against the counter's edge. "-- I'm sorry to even ask this but do you really think it was a heart attack? I know how involved he was with Stark and they're dealing with some pretty heavy stuff right now." "Quite startling, from an assemblage of unwashed pariahs who can scarcely be relied upon to run spellcheck." Matt circles the counter and picks up the glass of Scotch he'd left out. "I'd thought to pour this out for him, but then I worried it would harm the plants that he loved so. I'll just drink it on his behalf, if you do not mind?" So saying he pours it out--into his own, empty glass. His eyes flick up to DJ, suddenly alert. "Sit, please." He's pulling one of the chairs out for his guest before settling into the one he had vacated before his arrival. "I--I don't really think it was," his reply is hesitant now. "With all that's been going on around the--rift, especially after our family got dragged into this mess..." His head dips slightly. "But my knowledge is still cursory, and maybe grief has made me paranoid. If you've also reason to think his death might have been..." His eyes lift to DJ, steady if a touch bright. "I need to know." "Your family? More than just Luci?" DJ flits across the kitchen, accepting the seat Matt pulls out for him. He rests his elbow on the counter, forefinger rubbing against the edge of one thumbnail. "I might just be paranoid, too. It's nothing like the same but just these past years -- I -- he was a good man. He'll -- be really missed, and I can't help thinking -- with all the help he gave us." He lifts his hand, scuffs the heel of his palm against his cheek. "I don't know anything for sure," he says then apologetically. "I've just been back and forth between the two worlds -- a lot lately. They're saying it might be tied to me somehow, like to close it I have to --" His posture tenses, fist curling tight as his hand drops. "Stark's been stressed enough to let me go free. Just yesterday a whole group of kids crossed over. They've been poking and prodding at me like -- it just feels like they're getting kind of desperate, and I don't know all of what he was involved in but I'm sure it'd make a lot of people around there furious if they knew. And the timing of all this seems -- off." "He was a good man," Matt agrees softly. "Gods know it'll be hard filling his shoes, but I--I'll try." He traces fingertips around the smooth, heavy glass in front of him. "You don't owe him--or us--anything. All he did, he did for love, and community, and a better future." He covers his mouth with one hand, choking up briefly. "It sounds mad--maybe not to you, if you've been embroiled in this--but, they took Sera. Or...persuaded her to go? Luci had been helping those just broken out of Shippenville get to safety, and I fear he may have pushed his influence at Stark beyond its limits, finally. Regardless, I cannot think it wise to trust these...rift project people--on either side. What do they mean by it being tied to you, anyhow?" He frowns, sipping at his Scotch. "But yes, the whole thing does seem damnably--" His eyes meet DJ's. "--off." "Took her? They have her? Over there?" DJ's hand braces against the counter as if he's about to lever himself out of his seat right then and there. He stays in the chair, his fingers clenching against the counter's edge. "Was it Stark, or --" He shakes his head slowly. "It would have sounded mad a couple weeks ago. Now -- now I don't know what sounds right. They say the rift is getting bigger. Unstable. That it could -- it could be really bad. World-ending kind of bad. And they're saying..." He lapses into a brief silence, frowning down at his knee. "-- that they might not be able to stop it unless I go to the other side. It sounds like nonsense but I've been past those Sentinels a dozen times now and I don't know why --" His shoulder tenses, uncomfortably stiff at his left side. "I don't know why Stark would do that about-face if he didn't really need something." "Yes. I think it was the other Luci, actually." Matt says to his whisky, frowning faintly. "The one from that side. He is also involved with this rift project, no? The only way this makes any sense is if their Sera--if something had happened to her, and they think to replace her somehow." His hand tightens around his glass and he looks up at DJ again. "We're devastated, of course, and with Luci gone it's up to me to get her back, but I expect she's safe, at least." He peels his hand away from the drink with a will and lays it gently on DJ's right shoulder. "My friend, these people are clearly up to something, and likely no good. Why, of all the people in both these worlds, would they need you to close the rift?" He shakes his head. "Stark is playing at something, trying to earn your trust, no doubt. I cannot fathom why, but I have my own connections and can try to find out." "I'm so sorry. And right after Luci -- I can't imagine." DJ lifts his own hand to touch his fingertips lightly to the back of Matt's. "You all have kept my family safe through so much. If there's anything I can do -- they'll let me back through the rift, they want me there. I could get her -- maybe I could get her." He squeezes Matt's hand gently and drops his own back to his lap. "The other me died." This is almost offhand, until he follows up: "That's -- something to do with why they want me there. If something happened to that Sera too --" He gives his head a small shake. "It's not reassuring." "It's not as if your family has been lax on keeping others safe," Matt points out softly. "As much as I appreciate your offer, I fear if you go back now they may just slam the rift shut, with you and her on that side." There's a tremor in his voice, his hand squeezing DJ's back, hard, and his eyes stray to the empty sleeve again. "To say nothing of the danger to you both running that gauntlet--I'm sure Stark can revoke your free passage at any moment, if it serves him." He subsides a little. "I think it best you lay low while I try to untangle this mess, so that you needn't go on their word alone. If they cannot close the rift without you or, as seems more likely to me, won't close it without you, then hope remains for Sera." He tries to smile, but even his accustomed warmth is plaintive. "We've got a spare room, now."