capeandcowllogs | (no subject)

How am I supposed to know? I'm not psychic -- not like that.

[ he's getting less and less willing to be helpful. the more he says, the greater his self-loathing gets, like there's a direct relationship between his guilt and how cooperative he is. he doesn't like talking about her this way. it makes her seem less like a person, more like a target.

a deep breath. no, he can answer that question. or try. ]

She isn't afraid of us. Not like that. She doesn't think of us as a threat. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if she eventually recruits us.

[ He inhaled, sharp and heavy, like he was trying to reign in an urge, and he was. The urge he had was just to bombard the guy down with questions until he told him what he needed to know to fix this, but he recognized that superpowered individuals, and namely superpowered teenagers weren't going to bow down to that.

But he really didn't know how to ask it much better, if he were being honest with himself. He was trying to be sympathetic, but he would throw himself under the bus to do the right thing, if he absolutely had to.

Only if he knew it would work, though. If Bradbury had brought him in, there was a reason, did he know any more than Mitch was getting? His eyes flicked in that direction, before returning to Terry. ]

But she didn't, not yet. [ It was thoughtful, this time. Thinking about it. ] There has to be a reason for that.

[ he's been wondering that too. she's always said they were her army -- in a friendly, sarcastic sort of way, most of the time -- but if anyone ever thought about that properly, there would probably be more than a few legitimate reasons to keep the five of them apart forever. jenny alone was taking over a small country. who knew what they were capable of together, with an arsenal ranging from mind control to immortality to devastating electrokinesis.

maybe he was being the weak link here. he wasn't sure. ]

Sure, there's probably a reason for it. Like she doesn't want us in trouble. Or wants to see where we stand first. [ a little bitterly: ] Or maybe she just doesn't trust us enough. Which wouldn't be totally stupid, considering I'm ratting her out to the mayor right now.

Hey, I know it's shit, but she's taking over a country. It's not like she snuck pot out of her dad's stash or something. [ His tone was wry, but it wasn't flippant. He took things like this very seriously, if Terry hadn't figured that one out by now. ]

What else can you do, just stand by? Let her do what the fuck she wants? A teenager, running a country? [ Inaction, in his eyes, was just as bad as supporting. For a guy who liked way too much history, it should be no surprise that he could think of plenty of historical examples, and even some comic-book related examples, but this wasn't the fucking history channel. He expected Terry at least got that.

This was very obviously his attempt to actually reassure him, as shitty as it was. ]

I could let someone who's not her friend figure it out.

[ there's that defensive tone again. like he's trying, unconsciously, to make a point of his loyalty to her, maybe even trying to pretend he doesn't feel a degree of loyalty to city hall too -- or at least, some of the people there. ]

Maybe she'll even do a good job. How the hell am I supposed to know. But I bet people like the assholes in Vulcanus won't like it, even if she does turn out to be some kind of stupid ImPort messiah.

No, they won't like it, and neither will a lot of people who have nothing to do with Vulcanus, like the United fucking Nations.

[ It was the pattern emerging that troubled him. No matter how much he complied with the rules and laws, and no matter how much time he devoted to making imports seem less destructive and more human, there was always someone there trying to fuck it up.

And yeah, it pissed him the fuck off, even if he didn't say anything. He had to mitigate this, promptly, before anything else happened. He hated it, god he fucking hated it, but who did the authorities, the CIA, NSA, President, and everyone else call when there was a problem with imports?

Ever time, he had to have an answer. If he could take care of this quick and quiet, then maybe this could be done with. Efficient. Effective. That's what he aimed for in all aspects, the less collateral, the better. ]

So do something about it. That's your job, right? That's why I'm telling you this?

[ the outburst is unexpected, even to him. and it shows in his face before the slightly widened eyes turns into something more defensive, shut down. this is perfect, isn't it? he can already picture the headlines about a fifteen-year-old import fighting united nations "peacekeepers" in the middle of the sahara.

it's not even that she's evil. not like his father, or like any of the other stupid war-mongering villain types they always get. she's different. ]

Can't you help her?

[ He let him burst. He watched, but he didn't speak for a moment. He didn't have an opinion one way or the other of her morals, but he did know this: they were teenagers. Stupid fucking teenagers. ]

I'm going to do everything I can, Terry. I can't promise I'll be successful, but I can damn well try to do everything in my power.

[ He never made promises he would't keep. Not in something like this, not in the City. But he would admit to trying, because that he could do, at the very least. ]

[ the second option he's considering is this: he and the remaining members of their little unofficial team buy some plane tickets to southwest whatever -- africa -- and stop jenny themselves. maybe it says something about how well they know each other that he doubts even that would pan out. honestly? he thinks at least one of them would side with her -- if not all of them. the most surprising thing is that it's taken this long for one of them to pull a stunt like this.

his eyebrows pinch together in irritation and he exhales like if he looks annoyed enough with the universe, it'll knock this shit off and let him go back to his pseudo-normal life in an alternate dimension. ]

What's that even mean, doing everything you can? Are you gonna talk to her, or get someone to talk to her, or what?

That's the first try, yeah. I don't know how effective it'll be, but we need to try. After that, it'll be sanctions and diplomatic attempts, if we have the time.

Like I said, I'm going to try and help her get out of this, but I don't know how stubborn she's going to be about this. I don't know Jenny, you do, that's why I'm trying to get as much information as possible. How the fuck else am I supposed to figure out how to talk to her?

[ Other than talking to the network, getting everything he could that way, but he didn't understand teenagers the way they seemed to. Every bit of information was going to get him closer to figuring out how to solve this. Among the other problems bouncing around in his head, the pressure from his other ideas, the weight of what he had to do in other venues pressing in just as much as what he had to do in this.

He'd do what he had to, but he understood Terry's frustration, he understood wanting to save a friend.

Sometimes, though, friends couldn't be saved. It's a hard lesson everyone learned, eventually. ]

Just --

[ another exhale. what's the most helpful thing -- for both sides -- that he can say at this point? he isn't all that sure. if the eyeliner and chipped black nails weren't hints enough, being helpful isn't something he normally aspires to be. ]

Don't talk to her like you think she's a kid. She's always hated that. We all do. And -- I don't know. Maybe talk to the others, if they've figured out the shit she's up to and actually feel like cooperating with an adult authority figure.

[ not likely. ]

[ Knowing what he did of the others. Well, really, Quentin and Julian were enough of an indication, he didn't think either one of them would say a word to him. The fact that Terry was talking to him was enough of a surprise. He nodded, however. He wasn't going to tell him that any of his ideas were bullshit. The kid was skittish, easily angered as it was.

And really, that type of advice left him a little befuddled. Did he actually talk to them like they were kids? His eyebrows quirked, and he grimaced, looking up at Bradbury like he was asking if he did that, before spreading his hands, palms up on his desk. ]

Got it. That should be easy enough. Most people don't like being talked down to, let alone fucking teenagers who can apparently take over countries. [ A hint of the biting sarcasm made its way into his voice, a wry twist that showed he was trying to cope with the outlandish idea. ]

That it?

[ it wasn't even really mitch's fault so much as every other adult who had ever spoken to jenny quantum -- at least as far as terry'd been able to see. she had a chip in her shoulder only out-sized by the one julian keller had, and he'd known her to shut entire conversations down over having the word "kid" directed at her, even casually. the word didn't particularly bother terry in most contexts -- he figured he'd be two centuries old in the blink of an eye and not ever have to worry about shit like being called "kid" again.

maybe that was just the kind of special pet peeve you had when you were an eight-year-old who reality warped yourself into a teenager for the sole purpose of saving humanity. and being able to smoke cigarettes. someone ought to ask jenny about it.

in response to mitch's question, terry just gives an unhelpful shrug, tension still lingering around the corners of his mouth. ]

Good luck, I guess? You'll probably need it.

It sounds like it, but hell, at least some luck's better than no luck.

[ He said it, but he didn't mean it. He didn't fucking care about luck, because he'd never had much of it himself. He didn't need it, because he'd never been able to rely on it. But he'd do it if he could.

He nods slowly, reaching out with a hand, mostly to shake Terry with it. It's only polite. He stands a little, feeling like there's not going to be much else he'll get out of him, either way. ]

I want you to know, I appreciate you bringing this to my attention.

[ terry eyes mitch's hand suspiciously, like it might explode if he touches it. he's always been uncomfortable with most forms of human contact, but it's a weirdly formal gesture on top of that.

at length, he accepts it awkwardly, making the handshake as brief as possible. ]

No offense, Mr. Mayor, but your appreciation's got about nothing to do with it.

[ His handshake was quick, firm, but quick. If there's anything that Mitchell can do to avoid human contact, he often does. His own hand pulls away to return to his sides.

In short, his handshake is quick and efficient, just like everything else he does. ]

I know, but I'd be a dick if I didn't tell you that I appreciated your efforts.

You'd be a dick if you let this thing with Jenny escalate too. Just saying.

[ there's less bite though. maybe he's just grateful their handshake's over. touching is not something he likes, especially not in a tense environment like this. always too tempting to try and catch a clear read when someone's that close. ]

In the meantime, I'll talk it over with the others. It might help, it might not.

Hey, if it does, we'd be happy for it.

If it doesn't, at least you gave the effort. I'll take it from here, and hopefully we can get this taken care of.

[ He pauses, considering, but plows right on through. ]

Seriously, though. Thank you.