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Post coffee and errands, Jane follows up on last night's texts with a you wanna talk? to Vorpal.
only always. <3 the sound of my own voice
not news. would you like to come over and have a talk?
sure tho i might need a little debriefing on where "over" is!
smartass. And then she texts him an address in Strawberry Hill, walking distance from the park where they'd sparred. Reachable from the same bus route.
It takes a while before he arrives, but he does, suggesting he took the bus itself to get there. In time, there's a knock, quick and concise.
The apartment is fairly small, and while she's clearly used the time to tidy up, there's still a...very lived-in feeling to the place. There's a living room with a sagging grey couch and a coffee table that someone might have made in wood shop in high school and no real sense of 'decor', so much as an accumulation of...stuff.
Jane herself is in a t-shirt and jeans, hair mussed, and she doesn't look like she has done much sleep yet. But hey, she's had coffee, so she's able to manage a smile. "Heya, Jack."
Jack, on the other hand, looks like he slept like a rock. He's perky and refreshed, and flashes the same cocky smile he normally has in reserve, though it falters a touch as he picks up that SHE isn't doing so hot. He's garbage at reading emotions, but he can clock the signs of sleep deprivation, and he frowns a touch at that. "Heya, Jane. I take it the night didn't get much better?"
"I mean. I just couldn't really get to sleep. C'mon in, you want something to drink? I've got...Red Bull, root beer, chocolate milk and rum. In any combination."
There's a momentary twitch, a grimace. He doesn't put words as to why. "Ah- no. But thank you." It's a touch stiff, that response. "What kept you up? If I may? Scintillating conversation, I hope?"
"No. Just...thinking." She walks over to the couch, phlumphing onto it with a sigh. "Devan, and the whole thing at the shop, and you, and general headaches, and some other stuff that doesn't relate directly to any of the topics at hand."
Jack follows, folding his lanky form down onto the couch with a degree of elegance that would be startling for anyone that hadn't already seen him fight. "Yeaaaaah. That whole thing was A Whole Thing. Sorry about that. I'm usually the mentos in the diet coke myself, I'm not used to being anything close to a voice of reason and to be quite honest, I'm kinda shite at it." He shuffles a hand through his hair. "What's your take on that whole back and forth with Arthur? I didn't catch the whole thing, just the-" Jack wobbles his hand midair, trying to find a word. "-heartwrenchingly vulnerable bit at the end."
"My take?" She watches him for a moment. "I thought that Arthur was ignorant of the Fuckery that this world can be, and that when Devan was offering to show off the book we picked up from a sacrificial cult, that he was going to be dragging someone innocent into the world of the..." Beat. She fumbles for the word this time. "...arcane? You know, without getting consent. But it's clear...it's clear that Arthur has experienced something. Something which Devan was aware of and I wasn't. And while that doesn't make what Devan was trying to do okay in anyway, it reframes things, I suppose. There's big secrets here. Like...I know there's a fire that Devan's playing with. And I think he's hurting people as he's trying to explore whatever-it-is, by not respecting their right to the illusion of privacy if nothing else."
She wipes a hand down her face. "What you said about dissymmetry of information made a lot of fucking sense to me. I'm generally pretty comfortable knowing there's things I don't know, about the world and about the people around me. Like, I make jokes about being the one who knows the least about things, sometimes, but that's because I don't consider Learning The Things my job, so much as keeping my people safe. Though last night, that ran right afoul of keeping the shop safe. So."
Jack sits and listens. He's good at that, at least. What he's not good at is keeping a good poker face up. He knew about the book- he helped liberate it, after all- and he nods, appreciating Jane's instinct to keep Arthur out of a mess he wasn't involved in. Though his face falls as she talks about knowing Arther's seen some shit, and Devan was poking the proverbial bear, because she's not wrong. He nods again at the description of Devan. "Yeah. I don't think he intends to hurt folx or piss'em off, but it does seem to be the common result."
He heaves a sigh of relief as she agrees with his assessment of it being okay that folx needn't know the same things. "Yeah. I'm on the same page, when it comes to keeping My People in the clear. Which is what made that whole scene messy. Glitch is My People, has been for years, and I'm not used to having to rein him in. It was a lot easier to just play accomplice, but. I dunno. I guess I'm growing up a little?" Or Wyrding down a lot. Whichever. "I thought you did pretty well. As well as could be expected with friends on all sides and shit down the middle. How's it left you feeling, personally? You okay? Anything you want to talk about? Vent over? Scold me for? It's all game."
She sits with her feelings for a moment, trying to work around to words. "Alright. I'm going to say some things. Devan and I belong to a group of people. You, Glitch, probably Arthur, I've got a few others in mind...you belong to another group of people. And tension between those two groups is potentially a problem. And right now, Devan is cranking that tension up. And we're both...lack of a better term, secret societies, we're not waving our underwear on the flagpole for everyone. Is that all accurate?" Not asking the Big Questions. Not prying. Just making sure her handle on the situation is grounded in the reality.
"I've got my own cloak and dagger stuff, yeah. I figure you've watched me throw haymakers with my shadow, and got to experience weaponized pins and needles, no point dissembling there. I'm not nearly a good enough liar to sell THAT horseshit," He offers with a laugh. "Not gonna confirm anybody else's name on there, though, outta courtesy, no matter how close to wearing a sandwich board labeled "ask me about crazy shit" they've gotten," he mutters with an eyeroll. "But yeah. It's accurate to summarize that Devan's causing some rising tensions. It's less that he himself is intolerable- he's not, I have known far bigger assholes- but he's roughly as airtight as a submarine with screen doors. He knows things, wants to know more things, and wants people to know he knows things. And the problem is pretty much that well-meaning as he is, not knowing why he shouldn't talk about stuff is gonna do exactly what you and Alexis were implying last night- bring down hell on everyone involved, and I'm not entirely confident he can be TOLD there's reasons he should stop talking about it that won't make him just hunt harder for more answers."
"And sometimes, just the asking is already too much." He says that quietly. Deadly serious. No threat- he clearly thinks the act of asking itself inherently causes the problem somehow.
She inclines her head, smiling slightly when he says he's not going to confirm anyone else, as if that's a point in Jack's favor. "Right. Now...the trap I'm in is that Devan's senior to me on our end. I mean, perhaps that's not a direct formal chain of command, but even if he could be told anything, I'm not sure he's going to listen to it, from me. So. I don't know what to do, with regard to that. Beyond the fact that, if there is a way to ease tensions through my own actions, I'd like to? But...yeah. Don't know what good that does anyone, because I'm not him, I can't control him. So. Where does that leave us, practically?"
"Whoa, hold up." Jack leaned over a little, reaching to rest a few fingertips on her shoulder. "This isn't your mess to fix. I appreciate that you're willing to help with it, and willing to look for ways to do so, but the way you talk, you sound like you're already shouldering the job of fixing Devan. That's Devan's job. Your job is you, and you're doing pretty damn good and you're not fostering tensions on your own. You've got no idea just how far that simple respect for privacy you default to is going. You can't control him so don't try, and don't feel like you should be able to. That way lies madness. We good on that, at least? We can talk on the rest if we are."
She leans into the gentle touch slightly. "We're good on that. Thank you."
"Okay. You're welcome." The lean in results in his palm pressing more fully to her shoulder. "Okay. So the rest. I can talk to Devan myself. I'm already out in the open a bit. He's seen me where he's seen me, he's seen some of what I can do, so hopefully we can come to an understanding. But what you're picking up on is pretty much accurate- one way or the other, it's probably gonna handle better with hands on management than by hoping he chills out.
Cuz I think we both know he won't."
"Right. I wish you luck with that." She laughs quietly, and without much humor, closing her eyes for a moment. "This wasn't the conversation I had wanted to have with you when I got you alone, you know."
"Yeah, I do, too." He heaves a sigh, pausing at her comment. "OH! Yeah, I actually expected more along that front but it felt kinda lousy to be like "hey, sup, let's talk about me now" when you hadn't even slept." His fingers tense, squeezing her shoulder gently. "I'm up for a less depressing conversation if you are."
She lets out a bit of a laugh, scooting about a butt-width closer to him on the couch. "I don't know how to go about having this conversation. Except I kind of want to lean in and rest my cheek on your arm. And only partly because I'm tired. Is that alright with you?"
She scoots, and he shifts his hand, letting it go from resting on her near shoulder to curling behind along her shoulders to rest on the far instead. "That's totally alright. You can generally assume that if you want to show or ask for affection from me, you've got my go ahead." He squeezed her gently round the shoulders. "Granted, you are tremendously easy to say that to on account of me knowing there's entire categories that would usually require much more consideration before offering carte blanche, but point stands. Snuggle away."
"As for the conversation itself, I dunno that there;s a wrong way to have it. Lemme know what you'd like- I'm not gonna assume anything, so you've got the throttle for that in hand- and I'll let you know where I stand. Or. Well, I guess I did that already?"
M
And she doesn't quite crumple into his side, but that's not entirely an unfitting description, either, for how she folds herself up beside him, knees tucked in under her, becoming small.
She's a tall woman, and there's a lot of time she's spent around Vorpal sort of maximizing that, using her size to bolster her authority or her grittiness. Trying to stand up and be tough. But in this moment, she is giving herself permission to give all of that up, and trusting him not to be an asshole with it.
Huh. It's funny, it's almost like he has some idea of what to do here. He shifts in place, bracing faintly against the couch to make sure she's got someplace solid to snuggle so she doesn't have to hold back or support herself. As she curves down against him, his arm follows the shifting curve, settling across the upper turns of her body. He's good at this. Even his shadow almost feels like it's helping out with the snuggle.
Almost.
"There's something uniquely delightful about cuddling up with someone you know is capable of laying down a most supreme beatdown," he murmurs. "It's like- 'this chick here can turn out the lights any time she pleases, but she wants a snuggle? Hell yeah!'" He rubs at her side, his tone and the contact making it quite clear this is perfectly welcome behavior. "You can nap if you want, for the record. I know you're wiped out and I got noplace to be. Whatever's clever."
"Jack, let's be honest for a moment. When I hit you, it was because you were fucked up by my psy and distracted. In an actual fair fight, I'd never in a million years be able to lay a finger on you. I appreciate you talking me up to all your friends, it's a kindness. But you move like cooked spaghetti, and I move like a well-trained person." This said as she settles in comfortably, a smile growing on her lips.
"I mean, I meant it when I said I train people to fight. You are a good fighter, Jane, and were you against someone anywhere in the neighborhood of fair, you'd dominate, even without your psy. You're right about me not moving fair, though. I talk you up cuz you earned it- and also cuz it keeps me humble. It used to be a point of pride how long it'd been since someone laid a hand on me I didn't invite. I don't wanna be that guy anymore. And uh. Much as I appreciate it- and I do appreciate it," he chuckles, "-don't feel obligated to stroke my ego. The fucker does not need encouraged, trust me." His hand drifts along her side, on the convex of her arm and the concave of her waist, lingering no place too long, doing his best to stay predictable and not tickle.
"Fair. I mean, I wasn't about to contradict you in front of everyone, because look, I've got myself an ego too. And you...I feel like I am going to get better now, because of seeing how you fight, how you move. It's incentive to try to keep up." Her hand closest to him seeks out his other hand. "I'm glad you are who you are, now. This you is someone I really kinda like."
He just smiles, curling his fingers into hers. "You probably will. I'll help you get far as you like, good as you want. And I'm glad I'm me now, too. Old me was a dick. And spooky. Like- like fuckin' spooky. I don't think you'da liked him. And probably wouldn'ta blamed you for it."
"I'm not sure I want to imagine your shadowy ass as spookier than you currently are. I acknowledge it as your past, but...yeah, I'm not touching that." She laughs. "What are you planning on being like in the future?"
"Yeah, you- really don't," he admits. "As for the future? Pretty much me now. Give or take. I mean, everyone changes, but I ain't planning to backslide. Just to get better at being Jack and making sure everyone else is free to keep getting better at being who they are."
"Hm." She nods, watching their intertwined fingers quietly for a moment. "That's a good ideal to aspire to. Lofty, but definitely good."
His thumb shifts slowly, mapping the txture of the back of her hand. "I hope so. I'd like to be good. Good didn't used to be good enough. Now I think I could do good."
She glances up at his face now, just for a moment. "I am totally going to actually fall asleep right on you. You don't have to stick around if it gets boring, but right now, I'm the most comfortable I've been in...forever, I think."
"Please do. You could use a nap and I'm not inclined to dislodge you. No promise I'll be awake when you rouse, though, I might doze off myself." He moves his hand briefly, just long enough to run through her hair once. "Get your nap on."
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