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capeandcowllogs2011-01-12 12:46 pm
hoodalumnus.livejournal.com) wrote in capeandcowllogs2011-01-12 12:46 pm
Entry tags:
juliet, the dice was loaded from the start;
WHO: Parker Robbins & Misty Knight.
WHAT: Conversations over deeply troubled waters.
WHERE: Throughout the City, and maybe Saturn.
WHEN: January 12th, noon.
SUMMARY: Hey! Water! We're talking, here!
She had given him a haircut. He didn't protest -- the futility of protesting against Misty Knight's wishes was pretty clear to Parker. Still, it felt weird to hold his head without the weight, like a missing crown. He hadn't been focused on personal care since he had escaped SHIELD detainment.
Months ago.
"So," he said, shifting in his chair. The snow outside fogged the streets, and many people sought the warm glow of inside coffee shops. These two weren't the exception. This wasn't a change he was keen on -- after coming out of the desert, hitting New York in the dead of winter (in cargo shorts) had been a terrible mishap. Parker idly thought about changing the weather, if only for his own comfort. As long as he kept the chess-obsessed Porter-harpy happy, it seemed, he was golden with power and without consequence. His fingers tapped against the table, hand close to Misty's own. The vibration sent shivers into his cup of water. Coffee didn't appeal much to Parker anymore -- it was nothing like the cloak, nothing like the Norn stones. Nothing like this.
"Guess it's kinda weird." He didn't mean to avoid her eye contact, but they both knew this was nearing. The Talk. His actions, her ideals. How he wasn't sorry for what he did, just how it turned out. But there was no escaping it, and the longer he waited the longer the bullet coiled.
"And kinda necessary. I guess." He guessed. Parker shook his head, unwilling to jump his own tracks. "So yeah, this, here? People know -- people being your Avenger friends -- and you know what? That doesn't scare me. That doesn't scare me 'cause I want y--"
"My name is Dihydrogen Monoxide and you killed my father! Prepare to die!"
Parker stared at Misty. For a while. A long while.
"-- Wait. What?"
WHAT: Conversations over deeply troubled waters.
WHERE: Throughout the City, and maybe Saturn.
WHEN: January 12th, noon.
SUMMARY: Hey! Water! We're talking, here!
She had given him a haircut. He didn't protest -- the futility of protesting against Misty Knight's wishes was pretty clear to Parker. Still, it felt weird to hold his head without the weight, like a missing crown. He hadn't been focused on personal care since he had escaped SHIELD detainment.
Months ago.
"So," he said, shifting in his chair. The snow outside fogged the streets, and many people sought the warm glow of inside coffee shops. These two weren't the exception. This wasn't a change he was keen on -- after coming out of the desert, hitting New York in the dead of winter (in cargo shorts) had been a terrible mishap. Parker idly thought about changing the weather, if only for his own comfort. As long as he kept the chess-obsessed Porter-harpy happy, it seemed, he was golden with power and without consequence. His fingers tapped against the table, hand close to Misty's own. The vibration sent shivers into his cup of water. Coffee didn't appeal much to Parker anymore -- it was nothing like the cloak, nothing like the Norn stones. Nothing like this.
"Guess it's kinda weird." He didn't mean to avoid her eye contact, but they both knew this was nearing. The Talk. His actions, her ideals. How he wasn't sorry for what he did, just how it turned out. But there was no escaping it, and the longer he waited the longer the bullet coiled.
"And kinda necessary. I guess." He guessed. Parker shook his head, unwilling to jump his own tracks. "So yeah, this, here? People know -- people being your Avenger friends -- and you know what? That doesn't scare me. That doesn't scare me 'cause I want y--"
"My name is Dihydrogen Monoxide and you killed my father! Prepare to die!"
Parker stared at Misty. For a while. A long while.
"-- Wait. What?"
no subject
The other patrons of the cafe were just slowly packing up and leaving. Misty didn't blame them. She was about two seconds from flipping the table out of sheer irritation, and then who knew what would happen. The little magic trick didn't do anything to alleviate that irritation; if anything, it just made her angrier.
He was doing all of this, all this wild shit, and it was going to end just as badly, it had to. Why couldn't he just stop for once?
no subject
But no, not that way. He'd try another first. Parker reached out, grabbing at Misty's hand, imploring her.
"I need this." He held her hand, tightly, his eyes nearly as hollow as his voice. "You don't know what I did for this, the emptiness before -- before I got the first one, every step was just working towards it. Every thought just, consumed. What it was like without it, when all my power deserted me, goddamn like losing a l--"
He didn't finish that sentence, catching himself just in time. The apology was etched in his face, if not his words.
"I am never gonna be powerless again, Misty. I will do whatever to keep it, I have to. I just have to."
no subject
But the truth of the matter was, when he put it that way, she understood. Understood what it was like to lose something so essential, something that you needed and depended on. Magic wasn't quite a limb, but being suddenly powerless, disabled, helpless, she understood that. Her own arm had been ripped off tiwce, and she remembered exactly how fucked up she'd been over it.
For a few minutes, she was quiet, just glaring at him, considering how best to word her reply. Hell, she was trying to figure out what sort of retort she even wanted to give. Her jaw was tight, and even the water seemed cowed, silent for once.
"Not wanting to be helpless is one thing. But it's what you're doing with those damn things that's gonna be the problem, I know it."