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Jack texts Tegan around midnight on a Monday night, the address of his apartment in Richmond. Not the nicest street (I mean it's Richmond, what d'you expect), and the first floor of the building is boarded up. Once an old shopfront, now...nothing.
Jack's avoided Light-Shy this evening, and waits outside, leaning against the textured concrete wall and flicking his gaze up and down the street. Despite the ever warming weather, he's got his leather jacket on, and his black Docs are laces up tight.
Easier to run in, that way.
Usually, Teagan pops out of Light Shy, but a) this is a public place and there may be Normals here and also b) people are seriously on alert so maybe Teagan will get stabbed if they pop out of Light Shy next to Jack. So instead they just sort of casually walk up the street, hands tucked into the pockets of their grey leather duster, the hood on that duster up and shadowing their face. If they still smoked, having a cigarette hanging out of the corner of their mouth would complete the aesthetic but they quit a couple years ago so instead they just scowl.
For what it's worth, Jack's not the stabbing type. But the sketchy Darkling visibly tenses as Tegan walks closer, until he recognizes the duster and the mirrored Changeling beneath. His shoulders drop, the flickering and jumpy lines around his face fade away, and he gives them a small upnod in greeting as he pushes away from the wall.
"Hey - thanks for meeting me."
Their face is set in a weirdly liquid sort of scowl, hands tucked still in their pockets. The scent of sun-baked asphalt and the heat that rises off of the sidewalk after sundown on an unbearably hot day accompany their presence. The Mirrorskin casts a glance up and down the street before turning their attention fully to Jack: scribbles and jumpy lines get reflected back to him in fractions and fragments. "It's literally my job, no thanks are necessary," they shrug. "Plus, I might get to put a machete through a bitch, so, like, bonus."
"Yeah well," He lets out a soft laugh as he turns to the door and unlocks it before using a little force to push it open. "I appreciate it. Seriously. Even if it is your job." A high-pitched beeping starts up as he shoves at the door, but Jack makes quick work of disarming the security panel on the dingy wall. It's a little out of place, maybe, given the single bare bulb that struggles to light the entire stairwell and the cracked and peeling plaster.
"Personally, really kinda hoping you don't have to machete a bitch, given...what that would mean. But...I guess it'd all be over that way, too, so..." He shrugs, and gestures for them to start up the stairs so he can close the door and re-arm it.
"That's fair, and I appreciate you appreciating me." Teagan flashes a sharp, delighted smile toward Jack, hands untucking from their pockets, thumbs hooked into said pockets instead. There's a brief flare of their jacket, tucking it behind the blade of their machete, which puts Baby at the ready. "I do wish that Sig had time to finish Ninita," they sigh. "I could use a backup." They click their tongue against the roof of their mouth.
"I'd rather machete a bitch than make you or either of your loves deal with it," Teagan answers, heading through the door. "Some of us are made for that. Some of us aren't." And they start tromping up the stairs.
"Oh I'd rather that too, just...not where I can see it." Door closed and re-alarmed, and he starts up the stairs behind them. "More of a 'don't really want it to happen here and now', then not wanting it to happen ever. She fuckin' deserves it." The last bit is a low and vehement mutter.
There's a couple feet of hallway stretching out from the top of the stairs, lit by a little sconce next to the door at the end. "Gotta unlock this, too, one sec -" Jack says from behind them as they get to the second floor, and he sighs. "Gonna be so pissed if I end up having to move, after all this's over. Kinda liked this place..."
"That's fair," agrees Teagan. "There's a big difference between you and me." And there's no umbrage or judgment in that. There is a big difference between Spring and Summer. "At least they ain't gonna make a big public show of it, I bet, if she does get caught. No public hanging or anything like that. On account of we can't ... hold anyone prisoner without... " And then they bring their hand up and tap tap tap the side of their head.
"Don't want any more crowns ending up cracked." They step to one side, letting Jack unlock the door, hands held to pockets again. As if purposefully not touching anything. "How come?" they ask of liking or not liking the place.
The lock clicks, the door swings open and Jack flicks on the light. It's a decent sized one-room, though the miniscule kitchen seems to have been tacked on as an afterthought, only separated from the main living area by a half wall that Jack's turned into a kind of breakfast bar. Meals seem to be eaten on the couch, given the lack of dining table, and the mostly empty take-out containers on the coffee table. It's a little sparse, no art on the walls, though the overflowing laundry basket next to the couch speaks to the fact that at least someone spends a lot of time here.
Or did.
"Yeah, the difference's why I didn't come here alone. And called you, specifically." Jack gives Tegan a smile, and doesn't bother to take his boots off before grabbing the take-out containers to dump in the trash.
"Landlord doesn't really care what I do to the place," He explains. "Gonna have to take the alarm system with me. An' it's big, an' gets a lotta light in. Easy to get downtown. And moving's always a real pain in the ass."
When Jack starts grabbing takeout containers to dump in the trash, Teagan heads over to pull the trash bag out of the container and hold it open for him as if that sort of thing is natural to them. And it must be -- first of all, Mirrorskin, and second of all, you don't function well in a large motleycule if you don't just naturally start pitching in on necessary tasks. When one bag's full, they ask, "Where's the box of bags?" as they tie said bag shut, adding, "Well, yeah. And it makes sense. I'm glad to help. I'd be real fucking happy to tattoo a mark for her in with the rest of my count."
They consider the place thoughtfully. "Moving is a real pain in the ass," they agree. "'s'why I mostly keep my shit in our Hollow. The Hollow comes with us no matter where we go. If you need help finding a new place, or somewhere safe to crash in the meantime... I mean, youse could do worse than sleeping on the couch of a highly lethal group of Summers. And then Laura would cool for youse."
"Under the sink -" he moves into the kitchen and digs them out, offering Tegan a fresh bag before pulling open the fridge to empty the contents of that, too. Though there's not a huge amount of perishables. Cotton-candy flavored coffee creamer, orange juice. Lotta bottles of cheap beer. The orange juice goes in the trash, and the dregs of a milk carton do too.
"Been sleeping in one'a the cottages in the Freehold. Figure even if she's got access, there's always someone around, 'sides Lux 'n I. No motley, so...no Hollow. And honestly, I wouldn't wanna intrude, we're dealing fine, for now. And better now that I've got a chance to get a couple changes of clothes."
They set the tied-shut bag aside, open the next one, and sort of follow Jack around. There's an occasional glance over their shoulder, as if they're, you know, checking to make sure that no one gets fucking murdered, because that's exactly what they're doing. "Fuck, should grab some Yuengling on the way home," they mutter, as if they were reminded of a beer shortage by the lack of a beer shortage in Jack's refrigerator. They absently shift their weight, shake the bag a little so that stuff settles to the bottom.
"Ah, that's legit," Teagan agrees. "It wouldn't be intruding, but if you're set up, then you're set up. Probably Laura will bring you food anyway. She's like that." And the statement is affectionate. Laura is like that, and it's a thing that Teagan loves about her. "June, too. Be careful, though, or Doll Wood will start hauling your dirty socks off and returning them to you washed, ironed and mended."
"Hey, that beats dragging my shit to work 'cause I never have time for the laundromat..." He gives Tegan half a smile as he finishes emptying the refrigerator, less than half a trash bag's worth of shit that might go bad in the time between now and...whenever it's safe to be back here.
"Be happy to get you some Yuengling - only fair, after all this. 'F we're here long enough I'll order pizza too." Clearly he's moved enough, or helped enough people move, to know the classic offerings.
"Haven't met Laura yet - she'n June both do the cooking thing?"
"Yuengling is my jam." The Mirrorskin sets the bag aside, untied, in case there's more trash they discover, and moves to the sink to rinse their hands off, a force of habit. "It's cheap beer local to Philly. Down in Miami they charged for it like I was drinking an import, which is fucked up, so it's good to be back where I can get a Citywide without having to explain it." Cheap beer and a cheap shot of whiskey. Only Philly would have a name for such a generic drink, and take so much pride in it.
"Seriously, though, she will. You'll be lucky if she doesn't raid your cottage and clean it, if she can get to it." Teagan's nose wrinkles up, silvering on the ridges of the wrinkle, before smoothing out again. "Pizza's good shit."
"Yeah, Laura more than June; she's been teaching June to cook. Laura's a Gristlegrinder, a hyena, so, like, eating is really ... important. And having good things to eat, and feeding her people good food. June likes to take care of people, and no longer drops stuff all the time." Beat. "In Vermont, her uncle moved her to being a hostess at the family restaurant 'cause he said it was like they were paying her to break dishes when she was waiting tables." All of that's said with casual affection.
"I drink it when I gotta remind myself where I'm from." Jack squeezes past Tegan and out of the kitchen, glancing around the living room again in case he missed something needing to be thrown away.
"Which...usually means I'm paying the fuckin' import price for it, yeah. Now that I'm back here, 's whatever's cheapest." A shrug, and he picks up a pair of pants that didn't quite make it into the living room laundry basket. And huffs out a laugh at Tegan's description of June. "Sounds like I gotta look into being one'a Laura's people, if I get good food out of it."
"Where are you from?" Teagan asks, as if they feel like they're missing some important piece of a puzzle. They step back a little, letting Jack continue on his assigned tasks. Their attention's mostly on him, but sometimes on the windows, sometimes on the door. Their hand hovers near Baby a lot, but never takes her off of her holster. That's when shit gets serious, apparently.
"You really should. Just hang out with her some, she'll feed you. It's kinda how she rolls. June, too. Open hearts and big piles of food for everyone. June raises bees, too, so you can get mead out of it."
"Couple miles that-a-way." He vestures maybe a little bit vaguely. "Moved around a lot for work, but 's always been home, here. For better or worse, you know?"
Sort of wryly, Teagan replies, "I do know. I do. Philly pulls you back in, no matter how you might try to escape."
"Really fuckin' does." Jack shakes his head with a smile. "Spent a lotta time trying to get away, before I kinda realized what I was trying to do. And how much it wasn't working. I'll take gigs out-of-town occasionally now, but...especially with the Freehold'n shit, it's home again."
A little snort. "I can't be sad that I left, because... " A vague gesture with one hand seems to encompass, you know, kind of everything? "... but I wasn't ready to be here before, and I am now, so." The sentence ends, and Teagan sort of shrugs vaguely. "Do you have laundry you need done that you don't want the manikin to get her hands on?"
"Mmm. Yeah, took me a while to be ready to come back home. And to wanna really stay here, I...I was just running away from all the shit, but...can't do that forever." A shrug. "Yeah, this basket here...there's another one in the bedroom, too...planned on doing laundry the next day." A grimace and Jack shoves the clothes down as much as they'll go. "Gonna go pack a bag." He gestures to the half open door of the bedroom.
"I can take you to a laundromat, you can go to our house and wash, or you can take your chances with the manikin," Teagan offers, wandering back into the kitchen to tie the bags shut, and prep the trash to be taken out. "No, you can't run away from shit forever. Sooner or later, someone makes you face it, whether they intended to or not."
"Wouldn't mind spending time at your place, if you're okay with that. Rather take my chances with your washer/dryer. And...yeah. Yeah I've learned that a few times over, at this point." Jack gives them a bittersweet sort of smile. "I dunno if I'll ever not have to be hit over the head with being forced to face shit."
A deep breath in, and a slow breath out. "Well, ours is good, and there's far less chance of there being a murderbitch there that isn't me or June or Sigrun or... you get the point. Plus it costs less." They click their tongue against the roof of their mouth. The smile is reflected exactly as it's offered, because that's how mirrors work. "That's how life works, unfortunately. We gotta be smacked over the head to face the things we would rather not."
"I'll take my chances with you 'n June 'n Sigrun, yeah. Since, y'know, youse didn't try to kill me or my loves." Jack leans into the Philly accent there, just a little, his grin shifting into a smirk. "'Least recently none of it's left lasting damage. Got the sense knocked into me before I fucked up too bad. Which's better'n I have been." He wanders into the bedroom, and there's the sounds of clothes being thrown into a bag. "How've you been, though? Aside from the whole Hue 'n Cry shit?"
"Which is good, because if June wanted you to die, you'd be dead." A vague shrug from Teagan there, and you'd think that of the three of them that they'd be joking about June, but they don't seem to be. "Better an incompetent fuck of a killer when they're coming at you, I guess." They lean against the island, keeping an eye on the door and the windows, thumbs hooked into the pockets of their ratty skinny jeans. "Tired, mostly," they reply. "My partners are busy, which means I'm busy taking care of them, doing extra Hedge patrols... "
To his credit, he seems to take the suggestion about June at face value, and doesn't comment. "Feel you on that - taking care of partners's a full-time job, sometimes. Worth it, but...a lot. Hedge been quiet? Mearcstapa said there was some...blight or some shit going around, dunno much about it though."
"I've heard something about it, but haven't run across anything, like, conclusive on any of my expeditions." On account of having not been in any plot scenes about it yet. "Hopefully I'll run across some of it soon -- I mean not that I want to find a problem but that I'd like to at least be, you know, knowledgeable." Teagan rolls their shoulders loosely. "I'm not ... prone to research or whatever, so I just know what I see."
"I don't know shit about the Hedge," Jack admits, "but I hope it's not an indication of anything worse. An' yeah, I know how to talk to people - sometimes - but I dunno that I'm all that good at figuring shit out, like that. 'S what Autumn's for."
A soft laugh curls out of Teagan as they continue to lean against the island, watching Jack in between watching all the egress points. "When it comes to the Hedge," they intone with a sort of ancient weariness, as if they're an Ent speaking of what they have seen in their time, "It's always an indication of something worse." They click their tongue against the roof of their mouth. "Yeah, I'm hoping that Laura and Johnnie can sort it, because... " Shrug. "I'm here to make things dead, mostly."
"Yeah...that makes sense." He lets out a huff of breath, about the Hedge. "An' in this case, doesn't sound like making things more dead's gonna be all that helpful." He leans into the bedroom closet for a moment, taking one last look to make sure he hasn't forgotten anything he can't live without, and tugs the zipper on his duffel bag closed. "I'm much better for Ironside issues than shit in the Thorns, 're I'd offer...something. But I really doubt there's much for me t'do, there."
So Teagan's got a shitty beater of a car if Jack doesn't have one, and after the trash is taken out and the dirty laundry is loaded up, they zoom zoom out to the Direct Action house. It's an uneventful drive, and Teagan orders salads and cheesesteaks and pizzas on the way over, ordering from Grubhub at a stoplight. THE WORST.
The house is a rambling old stone Colonial in one of those hidden pockets of green in the middle of the city, the sort of thing that you have to have to get. Sturm's truck is out front, and Teagan pulls in behind it, explaining, "I have to order food because I set cereal on fire once." The car stops, and they hop out, popping the trunk to free the stinky laundry.
Jack definitely doesn't have a car, and he visibly relaxes once they're out of the apartment and on the road. He offers to foot the bill for the food, too. Least he can do, you know?
He might have even drifted off to sleep for a minute or two, the stress of the past week overwhelming him, but he jerks back to awakeness as Tegan slows down.
"Cereal on fire, mm?" He gives Tegan a tired smile. "Sounds like the kinda shit Lux might do."
It takes a little longer for him to get out of the car, but he rushes to get the laundry. And his bag, too, before turning to eye the exterior of the house. "'S a nice place you got."(edited)
Teagan helps carry stuff, because, again, that's how it works when you live in a house with a bunch of other people. You just get used to pitching in: everyone helps until the job is done. The front door isn't locked -- at least not right now -- because their security system is a bunch of fucking murder junkies. "Yeah, I was trying to make eggs, but it's been like a hundred years since I cooked, and when I used to cook, I used a wood stove, so I didn't... really get the whole 'burner' thing, and I accidentally put a box of cereal on the burner."
They smile absently as they push the door open. "Thanks. Sig's forge is out back. She wants goats and stuff to look after the greenery, and I think that's ... definitely something. Oh. There are dogs, but they're in the back rooms, so. I don't have to let them out."
And then as they push through the foyer and into the living room, they holler: "I'M HOME! I HAVE A GUEST! IT'S NOT-OUR-JACK!"
Between the two of them, it's easily doable in one trip, and Jack traipses after Tegan into the house. "Don't mind dogs at all, I -" and then Jack flinches in surprise at the yell, his hands tensing visibly on the laundry basket.
"What...kinda dogs...?" He asks, tentatively, after a second.
"It's a clothing-optional house," Teagan explains, "And I don't know who's home and who has their phone on. Sigrun's ass is great, but it shouldn't be inflicted on the unwary. Put ya damn eyes out with that light." They lug the clothing into the kitchen, because sensible people don't put stairs between 'where the clothes come off' and 'where the clothes get washed,' and set the bag down, stepping back.
"Pibble mixes. We brought them with us from Miami. Sig's got Garmir and I've got Oso. They're like... four, five months old, and they're big dorks."
When they step in, Sturm is draped over the couch, wearing pajamas - a flowy crop top, and leggings with watermelons up and down the sides of the legs - she's fallen asleep with a playstation controller on her lap, and Kratos and his son are screaming at a bunch of viking-themed zombies as she repeatedly dies and respawns in her slumber.
There's a torn open package from Etsy on the nearby table, and a white leather harness is just on full display, and when Teagan shouts their arrival Sturm fucking activates like a Russian sleeper agent, and throws her leather jacket (thankfully her habit of leaving it lying around hasn't been fully broken) over the spoils of her shopping spree.
"Hrrrmffffuck," the giant shakes the sleep out of her brain as their conversation continues. "I swear I was just resting my eyes."(edited)
"Pibbles" Jack's animation dances for a moment in his excitement. And then he eyes Sturm - and her newfound leather.
"Sturm you..." there's a beat, before Jack apparently decides that yes, yes he does want to risk it, "you wanna gimme the name'a that shop sometime? Looks decent quality." He can't keep a grin from splitting his face as he starts to move into the kitchen.
The Mirrorskin's about to say something when Sturm activates like Black Widow getting reminded about SAD THINGS and then Teagan's broken-mirror eyes glitter like light just got reflected into them and they start laughing so hard that they wheeze. "H.... hi doll," Teagan coughs, arms clutched around their stomach. "Holy shit you're cute."
And then they straighten up, getting their laughter under control, and squints sidelong at Jack, their smile lopsided. "That scans," they comment, padding over to roll up to their toes and kiss the corner of Sturm's mouth.
"And yeah, they were rescued by a friend of ours in Miami, the whole litter. Sig took the runt of the litter and named him Garmr, because she's a nerd."
Now, Sturm usually has a really good poker face. Hell, right now Sturm has a really good poker face. Even Teagan who knows her incredible well can't see the Jotunn's usual tells. She isn't even blushing - just staring at Jack with a completely straight face and pursed lips. She returns Teagan's kiss and then turns back to Jack.
"I'd tell you, but I don't really know whose it is," she offers plainly - and with enough authority that it might make a person wonder. Well. It might make a person wonder if it weren't for one detail. She's wearing the matching collar at this exact moment, and it definitely fits. Like. Maybe it was a custom order that was sized for her specifically. Or something. "Sorry about that, dude. Would love to help, though..."(edited)
A scribble sketches across Jack's cheeks, when Tegan comments, and his grin widens. "Fuck I miss having a dog - kinda work too much, right...now..." He trails off as he looks Sturm over, and his eyebrows go way up, the grin scribbling darker.
"Collar not yours, either?"
The laughter is silent, but Teagan puts both hands over their face, gasping for breath behind their long, mirror-dark fingers. Nope, they're not gonna help Sturm on this one. They're just going to try to breathe and not collapse.
"Yeah, you know. I just. Was curious about it," Sturm tugs at the o-ring like a cartoony sort of "boy, is it just me, or is it hot in here?" gesture. There's a heavy sigh, and now she is blushing pretty furiously - navy blue creeping under the icy skin in her cheeks. "Just, uhhh." The giant clears her throat, continuing in a low grumble. "Figured I'd see what it was all about, y'know?" Beat. "Thinking it's uhhh. Probably not my thing, though."(edited)
"'S too bad, I bet the harness wasn't cheap. They take returns on custom shit?" Jack's hedging a guess here, but given how well the collar fits...
"'F it were me, I might'a gone with blue - matches your cheeks right about now." That shit-eating grin is pretty permanently fixed on his face, at this point, his dark eyes dancing with amusement.
Fuckin' Springs, amirite?
They're laughing themselves speechless for a little bit through all of that, breathless -- until that last half-sentence from Sturm, and suddenly Teagan straightens upreturns to their full height, and their eyebrows rise slowly. "Oh, isn't it?"
Ooooooh shit.
Speaking of matching, the white harness and collar happen to perfectly match the Jotunn's snow-white locks of hair - which is currently up in a bun at the moment.
Sturm's about to open her mouth and respond to Jack when she notices the shift in Teagan's posture. Her breath catches in her throat, and she closes her mouth again - blushing an even deeper blue.
"It's from GestaltFetishwear," she grumbles. "And, yeah okay it's mine. Because it's my thing." Beat. "I'm, uhh. Gonna go down to my room and die for a little bit, though."
Jack chuckles. "'S no shame in it. But I won't tell. You don't wanna hang out while I do laundry? Learn some'a my secrets?"
"Don't die, doll. It's exactly the color we wanted, and it looks great, and Jack won't tell. Seal it if you gotta, but he won't." And that reproach having been delivered, Teagan sweetens it with a kiss to the corner of the Jotunn's mouth. "I love secrets."
Darklings, yo.
... and she does seal it, so you'd better not tell, Jack. Because Sturm is a Winter, and she's also a box of secrets that only occasionally tips over to reveal the contents.
Then she turns into the smooch full on, rather than just letting them kiss the corner of her lips. "Okay, fine. I won't die." She reaches up to undo the clasp, and tosses the collar onto the table with the rest of the gear. "Right now, anyway."(edited)
Jack opens his posture, letting the sealing wash over him without resisting. "Hmh. So you join this motley officially yet, Sturm?" He call over his shoulder as walks to the kitchen because laundry does gotta get done, and eyes the washer and dryer.
Not as bad as trying to use the shower in your friend's apartment for the first time, but fuck, new appliances are always a pain in the ass to figure out.
And Teagan isn't going to help, because you think they do their own laundry? No. They yell at the washer until June or Sturm comes to do it for them. They, you know, can't read the controls. Instead, they take the kiss as it's given, and swat Sturm on her icy butt before they head back to the door to take off their charcoal leather duster and hang it up. Then Baby is taken off their belt and hang it up on a hook right next to the duster, before they crouch to start unlacing their boots. The question was asked of Sturm, so they don't answer it!
Once she's satisfied that her gear is hidden underneath the leather jacket, Sturm gets herself up from the couch - swatting playfully at the air where Teagan was as they smack her butt in passing.
She follows Jack through the kitchen and into the utility room, ducking under doorways as she passes through them. "Yeah, I joined Direct Action a couple days before the Hue and Cry. So it hasn't been long but it's certainly felt long thanks to... everything being on fire "
As she stops, she points out how to operate the washer. Thankfully it's nothing fancy and easy to relay.
"Congrats." Jack flashes Sturm a smile, and picks through the laundry, throwing the darks in first. It's pretty readily apparent that he and Lux have been living together - the baskets have an even mixture of black t-shirts and jeans, dress shirts, and the neon prints and crop tops that Lux tends to favor.
"Fuckin'...everything's on fire." A shake of his head as he starts the machine. "Hope it's over soon. 'Cause fuck...no one can live like this for too long, you know?"
"Yeah. It's a lot of fucking stress. If we could go back to having, like, one thing on fire at a time, and not... the Hedge, and also ... fucking Robin... and also... I'm sure there's a third thing." Teagan finishes peeling off their boots, shoves their socks into said boots, and pads over barefoot to flop down on the couch, stretching their arms up over their head. "This motley is exactly big enough for one Sturm to join, but I think we're basically full up now, which is perfect."
"Thanks," Sturm rubs the back of her head, scratching at the stubbly undercut. "It's been pretty great having a place where I don't need to keep my mask in place one hundred percent of the time - and yeah, it's a little cramped at times, but I don't mind brushing shoulders with anybody here."
She steps back into the kitchen, starting a pot of coffee, and then taking down three mugs. "... but yeah. I can't fuckin' wait for at least one of our problems to be solved." Beat. "And looking forward to being able to take a fucking nap without worrying."
Once the coffee is on, Sturm heads back over to the couch - lifting up Teagan's legs so she can slide onto the couch beneath them - rather than waiting by the pot like she usually would.(edited)
"Looking forward to feeling safe enough to take a nap at all," Jack huffs out with another shake of his head. "And I mean Robin's at least three fires on her fuckin' own...love to be able to see my boyfriend again." The sentences are clearly all related, as chopped up as they are, and Jack leans against the doorframe between the kitchen and the living room, if that's how this house works. Otherwise he finds some open wall to lean against.
"Dunno 'f I could be in a motley your size - hell, I dunno if I even know enough of us to make a motley your side." That comes with the hint of a smile.
"Yeaaaaah, I saw the news, dude. That's some fucking bullshit, for real and for truly." The Mirrorskin's legs are lifted, and they flop their legs back down on her lap, wriggling their toes and stretching again. "Y'all need a Hollow or something to hide in. I know we talked about this already but for real." Yep, this is a much more relaxed Teagan, here we see the Teagancat in their natural habitat.
"It doesn't happen all at once," Teagan comments about the motley. "First it was just me and Glitch. Then me and Glitch and June... and then Johnnie, and Sig... "
"What happened with the news?" Sturm tilts her head to the side, looking over at Jack, patting Teagan's thigh like one might pet a cat sitting in their lap. Because come on. Cat. "Come sit," she gestures with her free hand. "I'll get coffee when the machine beeps. You're gonna be here for a bit, so better not to stand for the whole damn time."
She sticks out her tongue. Like. Holy shit would you believe this is what Sturm is like when she's not being a big, grumbly jerk?(edited)
"Can't get a Hollow without a motley..." Jack takes a few tentative steps toward the couch, 'cause yeah, this is some pretty unexpectedly relaxed Tegan and Sturm.
"Uh...video of Mearcstapa. Walking out of one'a the construction offices, the video caption said he was breaking in illegally to help with...my union's efforts to shut the whole thing down."
a beat, and the charcoal around Jack's face flickers, like he's struggling to keep his emotions under control.
"Which worked, by the way - whole project's closed for two weeks. But he...he's all over the fuckin' news, I don't even know where he is. Can't know. Until we figure out how the fuck to fix it."
"I mean, you can, but you can't share shit proper. Downtime used to be my Hollow, back in the day. I made it as a gift for someone who isn't around anymore. He fucked off, and Glitch stayed, so ... " agrees Teagan, rather lazily. In their own place, apparently, Teagan just chills the fuck out. The machete is even across the room and they're pretty relaxed. Possibly because they know if worse came to worse, Sturm would throw them toward their weapon. Maybe.
"Yeah, it was pretty fucked up. Is that for real video of him? Or is it like -- video from one of his pen testing things, that they're claiming is him? Or ... does Robin know a Mirrorskin?" They pause, and add, "Obviously that's not me. Mearcstapa and I aren't even the same height, I don't think."
"Oh fuck, that's terrible." Sturm frowns off into the distance. There's a moment of thought, and she shifts - producing her phone from the waistband of her leggings, and firing off a text. "Do y'all have any idea how to deal with that yet? Or, like. A good lawyer?" Beat. "Fuck."
The realization that she's probably going to be running comms a lot more often than usual dawns on her, and she suddenly looks fucking exhausted. Oh, and yeah. She'd totally throw Teagan towards Baby if the need arose. Because she's helpful.(edited)
"No fuckin' clue. We...haven't talked a lot about it, but we've got people on it. Wren, and...a couple others. I trust 'em to figure out what the fuck's going on. I just...I want him home, you know? Feel so much safer when he's around." Jack sighs. Heavily. "Means you've got a bit'a work to do, mm, Sturm? Thanks for having his back. Makes me feel a little better knowing just how many people're looking out for him."
"Wren? Oh, the Winter who's littler even than June? Legit. I don't know fuck all about her but I'm down if y'all are down." They frown a little bit, there. "Yeah, you'll be busier, won't you? Fuck. Okay, well. I'll make sure the crash space is ready when you get home at night." Domestic Teagan. Who would have thought?
Sturm's phone rings - the sound of a deadbolt locking into place. Kathunk. Then it rings two more times in rapid succession. Kathunk. Kathunk. Sturm fires off a text in response - a derisive snort - and then another text. Kathunk.
"Your boyfriend's a fuckin' ding-dong sometimes," she fixes Jack with a smirk. - and then leans over to smooch Teagan's cheekbone. "I'll have to convince the motherfucker to let me do extra work, first - but I appreciate you doing that, handsome." The way she says "motherfucker" is done with a mixture of exasperation and affection. "But seriously. Get down from there, Mearcstapa. Mom says it's my turn on the cross."
Kathunk.
"Yeah - 's her. Don't know her that well either but she'n Mearcstapa are close, and she knows her shit." Jack blinks in surprise at the text noise - and then a wide, fond smile spreads across his face. "Yeah, he's...he just wants us all to feel safe. An' he'll kill himself to see shit through himself. You figure out how to pull him down, lemme know, yeah? Think he'n Lux'n I might disappear for a bit, after all this. Just a week or so, for just us. Fuckin' deserve it - and maybe he'll see that the world doesn't stop spinning just 'cause he's not there to make sure all the wheels're turning, you know?"
"Are you arguing with Mearcstapa in text messages?" Teagan asks, frowning mildly. Their broken-mirror eyes shadow over, and their cheeks silver briefly when Sturm leans over to kiss her. "Honestly, he sounds like Significant," they offer with a mild frown. "Maybe we need to unleash the Mead Mom at him. She's real good at making sure people take care of themselves. Her or JuneyJune."
"Apparently the guard rotation is bringing him food, so Sigrun and-slash-or June would make great candidates to read him the riot act." She quirks an eyebrow. "Though, no offense to Sigrun - I love her to death, but she's not exactly the poster child for knowing when to take a break - she might agree with and then join him." Kathunk. The phone rings again. "Apparently Drake brought him armor and it looks cool... and also apparently you're all going to have fun on that week long trip." Beat. "I'm looking forward to having some fuckin' time, too. He and I talked about that earlier in the week before this shit happened."(edited)
"Armor's pretty damn incredible, yeah. He looks good in leather." Jack smirks. "And I'd hate for Sigrun to get dragged more into this, she's done an incredible job with all the armor shit, an' if she's like Mearcstapa...wouldn't wanna take two of your loves away from you, Tegan." His smirk softens into a smile.
A vague pressing-together of their black-mirror lips. "Well, the thing about Significant is that she's real good about making sure that other people take care of themselves, but real bad about taking care of herself. A whole 'physician heal thyself' sort of thing." Teagan scratches at their cheek absently. "I wouldn't want you to take two of my loves from me either but ... nobody can take them from me. As I have been reminded recently." A soft huff of breath. "But maybe we should send June after Mearcstapa, yes."
"No one can resist June."
Kathunk. "Oh, damn. This is actually a pretty slick look, though." Sturm fires off a text message, and then tips the phone to Teagan - showing them a picture of mearc, lying on grass somewhere, wearing a black duster coat with enough straps and clasps to make it look like a final fantasy character's outfit. "I dunno if you saw the one Sigrun made for Lux, but it's... basically just a catsuit. They look like they raided Catwoman's wardrobe and then rolled in paint." Kathunk. "... but yeah, June is probably our best bet there."
Then she leans over and smooches Teagan's cheek again. Another reminder.(edited)
Jack grimaces. "Maybe not...while he's still dealing with someone trying to fuck him over like this. Ah - isn't it? I eh...I'm friendly with Drake, went straight to him to get something made. And managed to fuckin insult his aesthetic choices..." There's a bit of a laugh, and now he does actually sit, perching on the arm of the couch. "Should'a gone through Sigrun - I wanna pick her brain about the work she's done for film and shit, anyway."
"He's your boyfriend, I'm just saying, like, it's pretty much fucking impossible to resist June asking you to take care of yourself. Possibly because she can literally, like, eat the shit that's bugging your brain. Fucking Truebalms, man." Teagan hears the coffee beep, and lifts their feet off of Sturm's lap. "That is pretty fucking nice, yeah. I like it. I mean, I like my charcoal one better, but, you know." Sigrun made it. The smooch to their cheek makes their face silver briefly again. "Sig is good at getting on with people. Until she isn't. And then they're dead."
"Can confirm," Sturm offers bluntly - like a character from a comedy show about Canadian hicks - pulling herself up off the couch. "Sigrun's pretty good at making people dead." Beat. "Jack do you want coffee - and if so, how do you take your coffee?" The Jotunn stops in the kitchen doorway, waiting for a response before heading inside to prepare three mugs.
"Black, and in the largest mug you've got." Jack offers Sturm a tired smile before turning back to Tegan. "I fear the day I get on any of your bad sides, d'you know that? Kinda like being alive, most days." Aah, fatalist humor. "Bet if June gets to Mearcstapa, he'll send her over to me...keep meaning to hit up Eugene, haven't had the time..."
"Unless you break your Freehold Oath, you're safe from us," Teagan points out. "I mean, yeah, we'll be pissed, but we can't hurt you. Ain't none of us ever broke an Oath." They sit up a little bit and stretch their arms over their head. "... are you carrying some bullshit? Do I need to call her like right now?"
Sturm is currently busy making coffee. She does not hear this. She doesn't hear anything over the banging of mugs, and sticking her head into the fridge.
Jack huffs in amusement. "'S fair. If I break that, I'll sure as hell get what I deserve, 'n you can quote me." In contrast, when Tegan sits up, Jack leans back a little, but shakes his head. "Nah, no bullshit like that. Dunno 'f Mearcstapa is either, yet, but the isolation's gonna get to him I'm sure. Mostly gotta hit up Eugene 'cause they're a therapist, too...you know. For all the other kinds'a bullshit in my head."
"Ahhhh." That makes Teagan nod knowingly. "I used to have a therapist in Vermont. Back when I was doing -- a lot more hard work for Summer. I kind of -- retired from that. But my therapist mostly kept me from going batshit on people, more than, you know, the normal kind of therapy. I never met Eugene, though."
Sturm returns with three mugs; two filled with black coffee, and one with cream and sugar. Tragically, the mugs are all the same size, but one has an IWW logo on it - and that's the one she passes to Jack. She sits back down, passes Teagan their mug, and then enjoys a sip from her own. Mmmm sweet, beautiful caffeine. "Who's Eugene? I only caught the tail end of that."
"Haven't met 'em either, but 's kinda at the point where who the hell else'm I gonna talk to, y'know? An' I figure they gotta be decent at like...pulling out the shit I don't know how to talk about. Not the kinda shit I wanna unload on my partners or - friends. Therapist - Spring. From Chicago, I think?" Jack grins at the mug, and toasts the both of them before taking a careful sip to check the temperature.
"Yeah, well," Answers the Mirrorskin, who doesn't say shit, because while Everyone Talks To The Mirror, it's not always the right answer. Their mug has a red panda on it with the words 'TINY BUT FIERCE' on it. And now I have to design that.
"Jesus is there anyone that isn't from Chicago these days? I swear, is Mearcstapa going to bring the whole Freehold to Philly and then never let any of them help with work?" Sturm takes a sip from her mug. It's old faithful. The "Marvel Comics Presents: Red Sonja" mug that she always seems to drink out of despite the fact that she has entire cabinets dedicated to her collection.
Jack snorts out a laugh - it's a good thing he'd only taken a very small sip of coffee. "Dunno if he knows 'em, to be honest. Though...it's him. He's probably got some idea who they are. Who eh...who d'you talk to now, Tegan? 'F you don't mind my asking." 'Cause he's sure as shit not gonna ask the Winter who she talks to about her feelings. That, you know, she definitely doesn't have. 'Cause she's a Winter.(edited)
A snort from Teagan. "There are a lot of these fuckers from Chicago, ain't there? Did something like blow up there six months ago?" And then a beat. "Uhhhh. Mostly, I talk to June," Teagan admits, scratching their cheek. "I had a therapist before I had a motley. And now that kind of stuff mostly gets kept in-house, you know?"
Sturm quietly sips her coffee, nodding along with the conversation about therapy, while declining comment. Because she's very well adjusted and obviously they're not talking about her when they talk about needing therapy.
Of course not.
"Makes sense, I guess." Jack nods. "I...just don't want my people to have to deal with my shit, y'know? 'S not like any'a them had any hand in causing it."
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