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The early afternoon find's Jane getting off work and seeking out a sandwich, walking into the local casual dining sandwich chain (not the good one, the next tier down) and ordering something with a fucking shitton of meat on it, a pickle and a large Coke or Pepsi as appropriate. She's still dressed in work-appropriate attire, and might not have gotten more than three hours of sleep.
Jack- or Vorpal, as his author will refer to him here for ease of distinction- finds himself pausing outside said sandwich shop as his own impressive senses alert him to the familiar- a face in the sandwich crowd that he recognizes and doesn't associate with needing manual adjustment of the violent variety. So great! He swings into the shop and heads to the counter, placing an order for exactly one (1) pickle, and then heading to drop presumptuously into a seat at Jane's table... where he promptly takes her pickle and places his, on its amusingly small tray, next to her food. "Sorry, they mixed up our orders. I got you, though." Before there's time for complaints, he chomps into his stolen pickle, chewing a moment, swallowing. He points to the pickle. "He owed me money."
Early afternoon is the perfect time to pick up dinner before Jack's evening show call, and sandwiches are definitely better than anything he's got in his fridge. He wanders through the door, in jeans and a dress shirt (both black) and his black leather jacket zipped all the way up. It's fucking cold, man. And does a double take when he scans the tables, though he doesn't say anything. If she's got company, maybe she doesn't want her brother butting in.
She tilts her head to one side slightly. "You're weird, you know that? I mean, I don't mind, because who am I to talk." She laughs and glances up when the door opens. And then her smile...well, it doesn't disappear, but it definitely goes dimmer. "Huh, a pair."
Double-take is right. Vorpal- to Jack's eyes, anyway- is... concerning. He's waltzing around with the same deeply impressive level of inherent power that the Crowns bear, but he's not one of those long-established members of the Changeling community. He's been here all of two years, and- while he's somehow managed to scrape his Wyrd lower in that time, he's still unsettling to be around- there's more Faerie than Person there. At least Jack understands why there's crumbly dry leaves on the otherwise pristine floor now. "You've no idea," quips V, chomping at his pickle again. She grins when she laughs- that was the intended reaction, after all- and leans back in his chair to follow her gaze. She drops her own quip, and he waves, upside down. "Hey, what's up, other-Jack?" An easy guess from her joke. "You here for the pickles, too?"
"No, he's first-Jack, you're other-Jack, sorry." She snorts softly.
Jack upnods at her and goes to order, and then...kinda hovers awkwardly with his bagged sandwich and chips. "Hey, Janey." He finally says. To another changeling, he looks like someone drew his rough outline in soft charcoal, and then didn't bother to color inside the lines. "I'd be kinda a little insulted, if it was the other way around. You...mind if I sit?" He eyes Jane, in a hey, is this dude alright with you? way.
Vorpal's got some visual similarity, though he's got more shadows than charcoal. And he does have a lot of shadows. Those accenting his form are deep, and those around his eyes swallow them, leaving tiny gleams to confirm there's still eyes in there. But his actual shadow? He's got... well, it looks like something close to a half dozen of those, splayed out like he's been caught in six floodlamps or something. One of them waves at Jack. "What?! Who says I have to be other-Jack?! I've been- ... okay, so I haven't actually been Jack all that long and the logic sticks but rude." He doesn't seem even remotely offended. "I'm cool if he has a seat- your call, Jane." He's getting real glad all these acquaintances ID which J they knows her by in the first few seconds. It's convenient.
"He's been Jack long enough, but also he's my twin brother." She glances up at the non-Vorpal Jack and nods. "Come on over. It's been a while, I guess. How's...your...theater stuff? Are you still doing that?"
"Yeah, I've got a gig tonight." He drops down into a chair between them with a small groan. "New place, so I figured I'd eat early and get there with some time to look around. You...how's your...stuff? Bookstore...?"
"Bookstore, yeah. It's been alright." Twins, but clearly something's put a wedge between them.
Vorpal chaws down on his pickle and watches the two interact. This is... not what he expected from twins, but then- privvy to what he sees with Jack, he can imagine what mighta spawned the distance between them. "Been a while, has it?"
"Eh. We see each other what, every couple weeks?" It's a generous estimate.
"Christmas. I saw one of your plays, so I had an excuse not to go see Aunt Marshia for the holiday. But you were working, so we didn't talk much."
He winces. It's really been that long? "Christmas Carol's always a nightmare, yeah. We went...out to drinks after, didn't we?" Or was that the time before?
"Ahh. I getcha." Vorpal chomps down on a bit more pickle while the two talk. "Gets kinda hard to reconnect after long breaks like that, donnit. I'm kinna dealing with that myself, my crew only just got back to town and it's been like... fuck. Two years. They fuckin' adore me and it's still a little gritty."
"We did drinks after Nutcracker, 2018, but not Carol."
"Right. Ah yeah, it can be hard to find time to get together with a job like this." Theater work is the best excuse for not having time for people. "So - sorry," he turns to the other Jack. "You're Jack, but...what d'you do?" Time to change the subject.
"Well, normally I'm a self defense instructor, but there's not as much of a market for it in town as I'd like, so. I mostly do odd jobs. Not too great for cultivating a wealth of... uh... wealth," he admits, clearing his throat. "But it's awesome for having plenty of free time on my hands. So to speak!"
From the look on Jane's face, she might not have been aware of that fact, but it amuses her. "Free time to cause trouble, huh?"
"Solve." Solve trouble," Vorpal protests.
"I've seen some of your methods..."
Jack nods, as if he understands something, until he sees Jane's face. "What sort of trouble're you causing? Or solving," he adds with a smile. It's almost teasing. Almost.
"Hey, I am not any kind of trouble in any kind of way, anywhere, ever." Bullshit.
"Methinks the lady doth protest too much - I wasn't even talking to you." The teasing comes easily, a throwback to more congenial times, probably.
She sticks her tongue out at him, then catches herself, stops...and her attention returns to her sandwich.
V fixes Jack with a brief you know damn well I'm trying not to talk about what kinda trouble I solve, kid look. You know- one of those "please stop shoving me close to talking about Our Shit around the humies" glances. "Oh, you know. The sort that lends credence to your ability to teach others to defend themselves. Hanging around bars until scumbags think it's safe to start dragging too-drunk co-eds to unsavory places, stuff like that." He sighs dramatically. "As it happens, too-drunk co-eds really don't make for very good testimonials on account of usually being... uh... too drunk, but. Good deed's a good deed, right?" He looks between the two, catches the tongue, blinks at the odd termination.
Jack catches the look and returns with a fucking no duh one of his own. "So solving trouble by starting more, different kinds of trouble." He chuckles.
Jane glances between the two men quietly, now, as she nibbles Vorpal's her pickle.
"Eh, that's fair! You know, trouble mover. Take trouble from an undeserving source, relocate it to a much more deserving one. Like the cause of the original!" Vorpal nods sagely. "That's how ya do it."
Jack sniffs out a laugh. "Makes sense. I'd like to say I'd step up to defend someone like that, but I've never been one for...any sort of fighting. Jane got all those genes."
"And yet, you're the one who tried to join the Army."
"Did join." His voice is sharp, it's a sore subject. "Seemed like the best option at the time."
"Hey, if she got her fightin' genes from you, I hope you got something fucking great in return, cuz -man.- She got plenty."
He glances between the two at the discrepancy in tried/joined, but doesn't speak up
"He got the brains. He just doesn't always use them." And that's another jab at a bruise.
"Jesus," Jack mutters. "Can we not? Do this now? Maybe?" He gestures with his head toward the other Jack. "In front of people?"
"...fine." She picks up her sandwich, biting into it.
Eesh. Awkward. V lets them tuck into their food and marinate in a few moments of silence. "So, uh. How about that Aunt Marshia? Anything's better than a holiday at her place, right?" Well, he's been listening, at least.
"Fundie Christian, with all that entails. She and Uncle Joe raised us, after our parents died. Which was hell on earth, you know."
"Honestly, the Army was only slightly worse than their place." Jack grimaces. "She tried to call me last week, she's got a new phone apparently so I hadn't blocked the number yet."
"Fuck. Do you have the number so I can block her pre-emptively? She usually goes for lecturing you about you-know before hitting me."
"Yeah, lemme..." He pulls his phone out and shows her the number. "She left a message, only reason I know it was her. Literally the first word made me want to throw my phone across the room."
She pulls out her phone to block the number displayed. "Thanks. And...fuck, I'd probably have actually thrown it."
"I know you would've."
"Yikes." V grimaces. "Fundie? That-" He gives Jane A Look. "- must have been really, really awful. I'm sorry you had to grow up like that."
"We made it out okay. Mostly." Jack shrugs to play it all down.
"We survived, that's all that matters." She shrugs as well--they shrug the same way. Like, there are tiny signs to catch that they were once in sync. But...just aren't anymore.
"Yeah. I'm glad you did. You two seem like really cool people. Maybe not cool with each other. But cool."
"Heh." He glances at Jane, and back to his sandwich. "Gotta say I don't know a lot about you, to think you're cool or not."
"Other-Jack is good people. Like. He's quirky, but he's self-aware, and that's important."
"Hey, it's cool, Jack. You're free to build or reserve your opinions as you like. That's the nice thing about stuff like object permanence, means I get to exist as an entity independent of the people viewing me!" V crunches down the last of his pickle and sighs, pleased. "Maybe we just need to hang out more so you can build an opinion."
Jane pauses a moment, perhaps trying to imagine the two of them hanging out. "Don't hurt my brother, please?"
"If it's gonna involve self defense on my part, I'll pass," he says, and cracks a smile. "If we can figure something else out, sure."
"Ha!" V grins and shakes his head. "Nah, I wouldn't subject either of you to a hangout meant for the other. Jane gets the sparring sessions. You, I'd probably just go on a walk or something. Shoot the shit."
Jane glances at Jack when Vorpal mentions sparring sessions, tensing slightly.
Jack's eyebrows twitch upward. "...You training again?"
"I mean. It's better to stay fit than not, right? I'm still not planning to go professional, but working with a friend to stay in shape..." This has a definite undertone of panicked excuse. My dog ate my homework. I need to take care of my sick grandma.
"...Uh-huh." And Jack sees through it. But he leaves it at that, and takes a bite of his sandwich.
She looks down at her meal. "Besides. Sparring with other-Jack is fair."
That gets a frown. "'Fair' and 'not fair', you ever gonna actually talk straight with me about this shit?"
She grimaces. "Look, it's...it's complicated, okay?"
"You could just say 'no, I'm not.'" He rolls his eyes.
"Oi." Vorpal interjects. "It was my idea. I meant it when I said I havent been able to find work. She's the only person I know who can keep up with me and she met up with me as a favor. Don't get down on her on my account, alright?"
"Throwing fists isn't the sort of hobby that everyone likes to hear their friends or coworkers are involved in. Is it that surprising she didn't wanna talk about it?"
"I don't care if she's fighting again or not, I just didn't know what had changed. It was a big thing for her for a while, so..." He shrugs, and checks the time on his phone. "Whatever. I have to go anyway. You still wanna hang out sometime, I'll grab your number." He's almost acting like Jane isn't there anymore.
"Jack, I'm not saying that I'm never going to tell you, alright. But this is so not the time and place and...we..." She trails off, shoulder rounding, almost folding into herself somewhat.
"Yeah, sure, fine." He's wrapping up half of his sandwich, and not looking at her.
"Yeah, here." Vorpal pulls out a business card in line with what he'd been saying. "Ring me so I can save your number."
"Will do. Catch you later."
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