capeandcowllogs | (no subject)

[ he folds his arms over his chest -- an unconsciously defensive gesture. not that he's being attacked here, but he just doesn't like approaching adults with his problems. bad history. ]

It's Jenny. I saw a news clip the other day, about someone with powers starting some kinda military uprising in some African country -- and I'm pretty sure it's her.

[ well. that's heavy. he hesitates, then adds, with that same discomfort, like he doesn't like this and still isn't sure why he's saying any of it: ]

I didn't know who else to go to. Who else I could trust.

[ the word trust hits him like a shot to the heart. it's not a word he's used to hearing, that's for sure. not like this. because everyone knows they can trust rick bradbury to watch their back and to do his job, but this is a little more complicated than someone expecting him to take a bullet.

terry's looking at him, though, and that familiar surge of protectiveness comes up in him. why and how terry felt he could come to bradbury doesn't matter: right now, someone's counting on him, and he's not about to let him down if he can help it, even if he doesn't necessarily have the right words to respond to it with. ]

If you're sure, I believe you. [ for his age, he thinks, terry's got a better head on his shoulders than most. he takes a breath, running a hand through his hair. ]

You got any idea what you wanna do about it? I don't know how much help I'm gonna be, but I'll do what I can.

I don't know.

[ it comes out in a frustrated burst of breath, like he's been holding that confession in this entire time, since he found out -- admitting his doubt out loud, his uncertainty, it's something between relief and anger, all coated in his perpetual self-loathing. like somewhere in this, he's failed. he believes that. ]

I don't know what to do. You don't just come back from taking over a country and get a slap on the wrist. Nobody is going to care that she's fifteen, or that she's my friend.

[ the self-loathing's all too clear to hear, for someone who's heard his share of it himself, and bradbury exhales. ]

I'm glad you told me. But... [ he pauses, just a flicker of something almost like apology in his expression. ]

You know I'm going to have to tell Mitch about this, right?

[ because if this is as big as it sounds, if there's a chance in hell it's going to affect the rest of the imPorts -- and there's no way he can imagine it won't -- Mitchell Hundred needs to know. ]

[ he's not surprised. but hearing it out loud does make something tighten in his expression. his head tilts slightly up and away, vaguely defiant. it's not that he even outright dislikes the mayor so much as a general distrust and an underlying resentment towards adults in politics, but it probably seems like dislike for the man.

but he knows. this is important for the import community, and important for their leader to know. it isn't like he didn't think it wouldn't somehow come to this, but if he hoped it wouldn't, bradbury's shown him that any other course is getting less and less likely. ]

No. What's the point in that? [ firmly: ] I'll tell him.

[ he watches terry, and maybe there's a little respect in his expression. despite everything, he trusts mitch, but he knows that it's not that easy to ask anyone else to do the same. he wouldn't be surprised if terry did dislike mitch, for all that he technically works for him. the man's not exactly the easiest to get along with, when he expects things of you. ]

Probably a good idea. He might actually listen if you tell him. [ it's a weak joke, a vain attempt to lighten the mood, but his expression sobers quickly. ]

Hey. [ and then, he realizes, he doesn't know what to say. "it's going to be okay" sounds like the kind of lie you'd tell a five-year-old; "that's rough, buddy" is just plain insulting. finally: ]

Look, whatever happens? You're not in this alone. [ he stands up, comes around his desk, and -- somehow, without a flicker of hesitation -- he rests a hand on terry's shoulder, warm and solid. ]

I've got your back. [ he puts as much conviction into those words as he can. ]

[ the gesture makes him stop. he isn't sure why his chest goes all tight suddenly, at that reassuring weight on his shoulder. he doesn't know why he simultaneously wants to jerk away while wishing the moment would last a bit longer. it feels dangerously close to things like support and encouragement and -- acceptance.

things he'd only ever felt around other fuck-ups like him. the kids with the messed up powers or messed up heads and messed up pasts. even abby, good-natured and sweet abby, who still had blood on her hands and trauma enough for lifetimes.

he hesitates, something boyishly awkward and almost vulnerable crossing his face before he's glancing away, brushing bradbury's hand from his shoulder briskly like he's annoyed by it. ]

It's fine. I'm not the one who's going to have to deal with Jenny. I don't need you to have my back.

Edited 2012-12-30 09:33 (UTC)

[ if bradbury knew what terry was thinking, he might have laughed. because he's fucked up, too. it's not as complicated as terry's situation is, and when you're talking about having a demon dad, having a complex about being left behind seems almost vanilla.

but even if bradbury's had a hell of a time trusting people ever since, he's never had a problem being there for anyone else.

the brush-off is something he expects, teenage pride and probably just terry's own personality making it unlikely he'd get a "please and thank you" in return. he didn't miss that brief flash of vulnerability, though, and he chuckles, shoving his hands into his pockets like he, too, is embarrassed by the gesture. ]

Yeah. [ he's never needed. ] It just makes me feel better to say it.

[ because even if terry plays it off, or doesn't get into it much, bradbury knows: there's a good chance shit will go down, and after that, they'll be left scrambling after the pieces. if there are even any left to pick up. ]

You ready to go see the boss?

How am I supposed to get ready to tell the mayor that my friend is probably committing acts of international terrorism?

[ it comes out harsher than he means for it too. he almost feels sorry, on the inside, and it almost shows. ]

Not that I have any freaking idea what he'll do about it. Probably send some stupid spandex-happy hero types in for the good PR. I don't even know what's worse -- thinking about what they'll do to her, or thinking about what she'll do to them.

Give him a little credit. [ he chides terry, but he's smiling wryly, a little knowingly. yeah, if it had a shot at giving the import community in general a better cred? he'd probably take it. but he's unwilling to believe mitch would see this as a chance to improve the import community's standing first.

he's not that far gone. he hopes. ]

As for getting ready, I'd normally suggest taking a shot.

Says the guy who wouldn't make me alcoholic eggnog. I'm starting to think you get a kick out of that.

[ it's grumbled, but he's a little grateful to be able to dodge the gravity of the situation even a bit. it'll give him a chance to decide what to say, or how much. not that he thinks there's any right way to do this -- probably only wrong ways. it's his inner pessimist.

he exhales. scrubs a hand over his face like he's hoping to look down, find himself in his underwear, and realize this was all just a shitty dream. ]

She's the youngest of the five of us. She's only fifteen. Or eight. Depending on who you ask.

Wouldn't wanna be a bad influence. [ he raises his brows. ] Besides, if you wanted to get drunk, you'd find a way to.

[ he did before, after all. he wonders how it can be that so much has changed between then and now; wonders if terry thinks the same thing. ]

Being young only means you've got more to prove, doesn't it?

[ he makes a face. he's probably thinking about that one time he woke up in julian keller's underwear. while quentin quire ran around naked. maybe alcohol isn't the solution to this problem, not that he's ever been big on booze as a recreational activity or a means of therapy anyway.

out loud, a bit dryly: ]

Do you even remember being young?

[ then, a pause, and maybe more seriously: ]

Maybe we could've stopped her somehow. Before this crap happened.

I know it's hard to imagine, but I was your size once. Maybe when I was, I dunno, twelve. [ he smiles, but just like terry, he's quick to sober up. ]

Does it matter? [ his voice is quiet. ] You can't change something that's already happened. Not unless turning back time is one of your superpowers, anyway.

Don't spend so much time looking back that you miss what's right in front of you.

[ it's hypocritical advice: he spends plenty of time on old regrets. but terry, hopefully, is smarter than he ever was. ]

[ terry rolls his eyes at the comment -- he's hoping for a few more inches, okay, dude -- but it's more for show than out of actual annoyance. the vaguely antagonistic banter helps make the subject of their conversation more comfortable, makes the tone of everything more familiar.

he doesn't answer right away, finally settling for a touch of sarcasm -- because he just doesn't do the touchyfeely thing well: ]

Gee, thanks for the fortune cookie advice, Mr. B. Got anything in there for dealing with demonic fathers or teenage tyrants?

Hey, you get as much Chinese takeout as I have and you pick a few things up.

[ lazily, with no real strength to it, bradbury cuffs terry around the back of the head. ]

Only if you've got advice for dealing with mind reading little shits who keep getting your name wrong on purpose.

[ there's no love lost on quentin there, clearly. ]

[ terry makes a face at that, not because it hurts especially -- appearances aside, he did survive superhuman boot camp -- but because being annoyed is a better, more comfortable reaction than feeling familiar. friendly. ]

What, Q? I bet he's out of control without Jenny around to kick him in the balls every once in a while.

[ he huffs out a breath. ]

We're probably lucky they never started dating, or you might be dealing with two overpowered teenage tyrants.

Great. Now you just made me think of how much worse this could be if Jenny Quantum got teen pregnant.

[ yes, terry, enjoy that mental image; he worked hard on it for you.

despite the casual shit he's throwing out, though, he's keeping an eye on terry's reaction -- not the words, but his body language. any sign that the tension thy was running through him when he stepped in has eased, just a bit. ]

God, can we not?

[ terry's nose wrinkles and he waves his hand in the air, as if trying to erase the mental image. he doesn't want to imagine a little baby with a pink mohawk and enough superpowers to rip the universe apart.

it's a distraction though, from the present situation. he can almost pretend he isn't about to approach the mayor with accusations of international terrorism against jenny. a little of the tension has left his shoulders, but not much. ]

Besides, I'm pretty sure Midnighter would literally kill everyone. The only people more awful than Jenny Quantum are her dads.

So she's got daddy issues? Figures. That'd explain why she doesn't seem to like me. [ it comes out before he can think better of it -- it could have been phrased better -- but he doesn't miss a beat. and if he thinks it's weird that jenny quantum has two dads, it doesn't show.

after a beat: ]

If one of her dads is around here... [ Why isn't Terry going to him? he almost asks, before he remembers. If there's anything a teenager is less likely listen to than a public authority figure, it's probably her own father. One of them, anyway.. ]

You obviously haven't met Midnighter.

[ he says that dryly. it sounds like there's probably a slew of things he could actually say about midnighter that would make babies cry, but the man's not actually the worst father -- though jenny might beg to differ out loud, he's seen them, he knows she's midnighter's little girl and always will be. but jenny's stuck on something from their past. and besides that, the man's superpower is basically winning. quentin might find it funny to cross midnighter, but terry's pretty sure if anybody could figure out a way to actually kill him, it'd be that man. ]

He's like Batman. But more psychotic and murderous. Jenny told me she's seen him rip a guy's skull out. With the spine still attached. So.

Well, that beats any bedtime story. [ and not in a good way, either, his tone implies. obligingly, as any normal human would, he makes a face at the description terry gives, because seriously? gross. and it probably explains half of jenny's issues if she got raised by a dad like that. ]

Do I wanna know what her other dad is like?

Apollo? He was here once, I guess. I never met him. But Jenny always said Midnighter was the nice dad, so. There you go.

[ jenny's family is an odd one, to phrase it gently. but even that -- talking about it -- terry feels a slight twinge of jealousy. he thinks something along the lines of "at least she has a real family, and parents that love her" chased quick by guilt. because she's an orphan being raised by two men who don't even remember their own real names, let alone what being her age was like, and that can't be easy either.

a look of discomfort crossing his face in the form of briefly pinched eyebrows and a downturn in his mouth that's just slightly more than the default. with sarcasm more biting than the situation calls for: ]

I'm pretty sure at least eighty percent of kids like us have stupid daddy issues anyway. I should be embarrassed that my issues are so mainstream.

[ he has to laugh at that, though it's a bit of a rueful sound, and he rolls his shoulders back. ]

Shit, only eighty percent? I can't think of anyone who doesn't have daddy issues. It's like a rule of the universe, or something.

[ there's half a beat's pause, like he's considering whether or not to elaborate. bradbury doesn't usually talk about growing up, and for good reason. he doesn't really get what terry's situation is with his father, but he has a pretty good idea that the whole demon thing's part of it. ]

At least her dads stuck around, right? [ it's about as close as he'll get to talking about his own history without terry actually prying into it. ]

I'm pretty sure there's a whole different level of daddy issues required for superheroes.

[ he holds his hand up as if indicating a height, but says out loud: ]

"You must be exactly this fucked up to ride."

[ he won't talk further about jenny's dads without being pressed though. because the whole sticking around thing -- well. let's just say that's only half true, if you can say it's true at all. ]