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It's the roof overlooking Veritgo, and Teagan waits: the usual, cheesesteaks and sodas, an offering to Spring because they gotta Talk To Someone who isn't in their motley about it. Moody, distracted, but present, the Mirrorskin sits on the roof's edge, feet hanging over into the abyss, sharpening Baby. It's a soothing thing to them, a slow shink, shink, like gently stimming.
Jack shimmers into existence a few feet away, just over the edge of the roof. A tight black t-shirt with the IATSE bug - in rainbow, rather than yellow - shows off his body in classic Jack fashion, as do the tight jean shorts he's got on.
"Hey," he calls out softly, announcing himself as if the sudden scent of blood and rain hadn't already alerted Teagan to his presence.
"I'd ask how you've been, but it sounds like it's a complicated question to answer, yeah?" He crosses his legs to sit next to them, grabbing a soda.
Their Mantle is the same as it's ever been, if only more so: the distant calls of medic, medic which go unanswered on a million crackling radios, the scent of sun-cooked asphalt and a city cooling down on a Summer night. "Upright and breathing," answers Teagan, turning their head to the side and smiling vaguely in Jack's direction. "That part, at least, ain't so complicated." They wrap Baby up in their heavy coat, put the whetstone away, and set the coat on the one side of them, absently rolling their shoulders in the black 'BE THEY, DO CRIMES' tank top they're wearing. One scarred palm pats the roof's edge next to them in offering and they add, "There's food. The onion rings were fresh from the fryer and they smelled good as hell, so I got some."
Jack opens his mouth to speak as he sits, an easy smile on his face - and then he hears the radios.
For a moment, his entire silhouette just...dissolves, bits of charcoal fluttering away into the air. When it comes back together, it's faint, and flickery, and his smile's nowhere to be seen.
"You...got more Summery, mm?"
The Mirrorskin might have been about to say something else, but then Jack sort of -- fades out and fades back in again, and Teagan frowns, their shoulders hunching a bit. They force their muscles to relax, splaying their fingers, and absently rub their fingers along the series of tattoos on the inside of their left forearm -- Viking shield, hyena pawprint, red panda pawprint, skeleton key... -- "Yeah, I did."
"Sorry." A pulled-in breath. "Y'alright?"
"Yeah 'm fine." Jack doesn't look fine, the way bits of charcoal are flying out from his skin to dissolve into the air, but he waves it away. "You...mind 'f I have a soda? And uh...you said you wanted to talk about...a lotta shit, right?" He runs a hand through his hair, and shifts away from the edge of the building a little bit.
"Yeah, I brought plenty so we'd have plenty. There's food and all," Teagan repeats, and looks out across the city, letting out a heavy sigh, their shoulders dropping a bit as they reach for the bag and pull out the box of onion rings. Their broken-mirror eyes reflect bits and pieces of neon. "A lot of shit, yeah." Their expression grows a little - a lot - distant, and there's a long, long silence while they look for the thread to pull, or where to start.
"Bailey's my kid. Did I tell you that?"
"I -" Jack blinks, gives Teagan a searching look, and blinks again. "No you...didn't. Fuck, what're the chances...?" He grabs a soda. "How'd you find that out?"
They bite an onion ring in half, looking off across the city, and turn their attention briefly to Jack during that searching look; there's a sort of careful nothingness to their expression. "Bailey came here looking for answers. As it happens, I had... some answers. And Sigrun found some more answers. And uh... " A vague wave of one hand. "Oso recognized them, which is about as close to a DNA test as you can get."
Another bite of onion ring, slow chewing, as if they're stalling. "Bailey remembered seeing a woman get hanged, and uh... her body falling apart into garbage. And ... my Fetch got lynched, so. That was what we in the investigatory business call a Big Fucking Clue."
"Jesus..." Jack breathes out, and shakes his head before taking a swig of his soda, then another. Like he's drinking a beer. "Teagan that's...I mean fuck, that's - d'you remember, before? Does it matter? To you, I mean."(edited)
"Some shit," Teagan answers. "I remember killing Bailey's dad." Crunch. They finish that onion ring, and then pick up another one. "Of all the motherfuckers I have killed, he deserved it most." Crunch. The Mirrorskin absently reaches their right hand to fiddle with the silver-wrapped chunk of marble on their left wrist, which probably not-so-coincidentally rests on top of their this machine kills rapists tattoo. "I remembered Oso. But uh... I don't remember Bailey."
"At all."
"And I know why now, but... " They shove the rest of their onion ring into their mouth. "My life Before is like one big fucking content warning, Jack. You can feel free to pull the ripcord at any time."
Jack reaches for a sandwich with a small shake of his head. "You gotta tell someone, right? Get all that shit out, to someone who's not your motley? Or your kid? We all got shit in our pasts, yeah?" He unwraps the cheesesteak rather than look at them.
A rueful laugh. "I mean, yes? But that doesn't mean I'm not gonna like... give you the ability to say 'woah that's a lot, Teagan, I dunno if I can take all this right now.' Especially not when something bugged you pretty bad a couple minutes ago. Your job doesn't mean, like, I don't notice shit, and that I want to be an ass." They pause, drinking their soda instead of eating another onion ring. "Anyway, uhh."
"I dunno that I would probably be pursuing any of this shit, if it were just for me, to be honest. I've spent the last twenty years being pretty fucking content to just, like... " Teagan gestures with half of an onion ring, absently waving it in the air. "Act like I sprung fully-formed from the Thorns in 1999."
"Makes sense. Some shit's easier buried, especially when it was so long ago, Ironside..." Jack takes a small bite of his cheesesteak, chewing thoughtfully. "Bailey's changed that, though?" He continues when his mouth isn't full anymore.
"I mean... " And then the silence is really, really long. "Yeah," they finally say, after they finish off their onion rings, and go fishing around in the bag for more food. "Oh, I got cheese sticks." These are set down between them in offering, because hogging the cheese sticks is just, you know, REALLY RUDE. Teagan takes one and shoves it into their mouth whole, chewing slowly, taking sips of soda.
"I didn't mean to leave Bailey and their sister," Teagan says, finally. "But I did. And they got hurt because I was gone. By my being gone. By my not knowing. It's like... " Their jaw sets, and they do that thing Teagan does where they take in a big breath and hold it for quite a while, setting their shoulders like they're about to charge into battle. "I can't tell them for sure that I loved them, because I don't remember that feeling."
"And they need to know I didn't hate them. Because of their ... genetic donor." One hand scratches the back of their head. "Bailey's fifteen years younger than me."
Jack just...listens, while Teagan talks. Doesn't push them for more, and nods occasionally, taking a cheese stick to munch on while the Mirrorskin tells him about their past. And he's quiet for a few moments after they stop, too, processing everything they've said.
"You...not meaning to leave. That...might say more than you think? I know intent isn't everything, but...you didn't abandon them 'cause you hated them. And even if you can't remember all the nuance around how you did feel about them...you cared for them as best you could, while you were Ironside. Yeah?" He takes a drink of soda, and his eyebrows come together.
"Bailey needs to know you didn't hate them then, or that you don't hate them now?"
"Oh, I know -- more, since then, that -- I think pretty much proves that I did love them." They absently rub their scarred palm over the knee of their skinny jeans, and then drag their palm down their face once they've rubbed the grease off on said jeans. "But when I was talking to them, yeah, I mean. Can you imagine, though? To like, meet your... " They swallow, as if there's a stone in their throat they're struggling to talk past, "Your mom, and they don't remember you, and they killed your dad because he was -- you know. A lot older, and really bad, and... "
"It's a lot, you know?" Teagan pulls in a breath through their nose, and shoves a whole cheesestick into their mouth. "I won't know for sure-sure until I find the Icon that has those memories in it."
"It's a hell of a lot. I hope they...understood you side of things. Because 'meeting the kid that The Hedge tore away your memory of' sounds like a hell of a lot, too..." Jack grabs an onion ring. Crunch.
"Like. I know there's a lotta Bailey's feelings that you're thinking about. But you have to deal with yours, too. Even if they're messy, or feel...I dunno. Unkind, or petty, or...any of that." A beat. "Which is why you're here, and not trying to talk shit out with them." He gives Teagan a smile.
They look down at their hands. "I mean, I'm ... the parent, so to a certain extent? It doesn't matter what my feelings are. What matters is looking after my kid. Even if my kid is grown now, they weren't when I was taken away from them, and I was grown when I was taken away, so... my feelings matter a lot less than theirs do when it comes to the trauma they're dragging around after them like a pile of garbage that fell apart right in front of them." Teagan continues to play with their bracelet, frowning.
"I don't know. I haven't really thought about how I feel about it? Maybe I can think about my feelings later, when all of this is over. I just -- " They click their tongue against the roof of their mouth, and their expression is sort of -- distant, disorganized. "I went to get the memory of my Icon, and ... The Armsmaster has it. Because of course that fucker does, but."
"It looks like a kid's toy. One of those old lead ones, from before there were toy safety standards. And. It was a cowboy on a horse."
"And when it fell out of my pocket, I screamed." A vague twitch to the corners of their mouth. "And I tried to get it back."
"Gonna...call bullshit on your feelings not mattering. What you do with those feelings does, especially in front of Bailey, but...nah. You're allowed to feel however the fuck you feel, about all this. But I get if you wanna wait to unpack them." He wipes his hand on his knee before he runs it through his hair, and drains his soda.
The mention of the Armsmaster makes him shift uncomfortably, bits of charcoal exploding away from him. "Cowboy on a horse, mm?" He raises his eyebrows. "Might explain why Bailey's not in your memory. You eh...have a plan, to go after him? Get it back?"
"I mean, maybe that's my feelings, though? That my feelings don't actually matter until I take care of Bailey. Maybe all my guilt and shit over realizing I remembered my fucking dog and not my fucking kids is just, like, a lot, and how I'm handling it is, you know, putting my feelings in a fucking lock box and being a fucking parent for a while." Teagan takes their empty soda can and flings it into the abyss; it spins end over end and tumbles down to the empty street below with a distant, meaningless clatter.
"Uh. My plan is to... kill him. Very dead. And ... then take back my memories. Because it's that or he kills me or he drags me back. One of those things is much less an option than the other two."
"I - sure, Teagan." Jack concedes and pulls away slightly, curling into himself as the gesture sketches that make up his body shudder and flicker. Though he's usually the type to push at things like possibly unhealthy coping mechanisms, isn't he?
"...Yeah I think a lot of us would rather die than go back." He reaches for another onion ring. "G'luck, I don't plan to go anywhere near the Hedge 'til that shit's over."
The silence that sits there has a presence. It's heavy, and real, like some sort of large, lazy cat that stretches out between the two of them and flexes its paws. "Jack, you're not acting like you," from Teagan, finally breaks that silence. "And I know you think you're probably, like, helping me by telling me you're fine, but you're really not, if you're not you. So what the fuck?"
Teagan does not, at all, see the irony in this stance, apparently. What they see is one (1) cheesestick, which they eat.
Jack flinches when Teagan begins to speak, and hunches his shoulders still more, focusing very carefully on the half eaten cheesesteak in front f him. "It's not a big deal, I'll deal with it later." He truly seems not to want to bother them with it, though that doesn't mean much, probably. (you're welcome to empathy!(edited)
The Mirrorskin pushes their long fingers and scarred palms through their hair and slouches. "Jack," Teagan begins, and they shove the empty containers between the two of them further back the roof so they can turn, propping one knee on the edge of the roof. "I'm not gonna be mad at you. I asked you, and I meant it. And you're worrying me, now. So... what the fuck?"
"I -" He seems about to try to reassure them that everything's fine, as much of a lie as it might be, but he lets out the air in a sigh instead. "I think - I think your Mantle fucked me up, a little. Reminded me of - of Over There a little more'n I realized." His head dips, like he's almost ashamed.
They frown, and look down at their hands. "Well, that sucks. I'm sorry." Teagan lifts a hand and scratches at the round of their shoulder, then carefully reaches over, hand sort of hovering over Jack's arm. An offering of touch without an enforcement of same. "It's kind of a fucked-up Mantle, I will admit. Which is I guess what you get when a century of assassinations joins the Summer Court. What can we do about it?"
It's an awful lot easier to take care of someone else.
Isn't it just? It's sure as hell why Jack does what he does.
The flickering Darkling leans into the touch, deflating a little as Teagan apologizes and empathizes.
"I dunno." It's definitely an automatic response, one forged by years and decades and a Durance of taking orders, and not being allowed to have his own wants and needs and thoughts and opinions.
Yeah, wild how that works. Turnabout is fair play or something like that. They rest their hand more firmly on his forearm and offers a vague, apologetic smile when he deflates a little. "You don't know?" The Mirrorskin asks, their broken-mirror eyes reflecting back bits and fractions of his scribbles. "Or you don't wanna say?"
"It's just...my shit to deal with, you don't have to..." Jack finishes up his cheesesteak and balls up the wrapping.
"...This's where I'd tell someone to talk to a Spring about it, huh..." That level of self-awareness has gotta mean that whatever Clarity damage he's got isn't that bad, right?(edited)
"Yeah, you're right, I don't have to. But I'm choosing to do so, because, like, if you haven't noticed, I fucking like you." Their eyebrows arch up their black-mirror face, and they tip their head to the side. "Yeah, that is in fact what you would say. Talk to a Spring about it. Which I am not, so, you'll just have to make do with this grumpy-ass Summer."
Jack can't keep back a quiet chuckle at that, and runs a hand through his hair. "I eh...ask me about my union, then, I guess? 'S...weird to just like...start talking about it."
Their eyebrows say up when he brings up his union, and Teagan sits for a minute, fiddling with the bracelet on their left wrist, rubbing their thumb over the odd shape of the chunk of marble captured there. "Why is it important to you, the union? And how did you get involved with it?" They grab a soda with their free hand, carefully cracking the can open with one hand while leaving the other resting on Jack's arm.
"I joined...before. Not even really on purpose, it was just like...I knew a guy who knew a guy, an' I was looking for work - you know how many vets fall into theater work? But eh...'s solidarity, you know? And after fuckin'...basic, and the sandbox, the idea that I could have some sorta control over how I was treated - how we're all treated - was a hell of a thing." Jack's smile is a little bittersweet, as he talks. "'Course the reality's a little more complicated, always is, but...that companionship's hard to match."
A beat, and he eyes the onion rings before choosing a smallish one to pop into his mouth whole.
"And...and then I got Taken, and when I got back it was...I mean everything was the same, but the only questions the other members had were about my wellbeing. Slid right back into it, they took me back after I disappeared and probably fucked a bunch of people over in the process...and it's still making my life better. If shit's wrong I feel like I can change it, we've all got each other's backs."
One hand resting on Jack's arm, Teagan's fractured eyepits reflect back bits and pieces of his scribbled face, and they tip their head a little bit to the side, taking small sips of soda now and again. There are segments of Jack's story that they didn't know that come to light during the story he tells, and their eyebrows arch up just a little, thoughtfully, at the words 'basic' and 'sandbox.' Things now known, filed away.
"Yeah. That I understand, for sure. Feeling like you're on the same side about something, that matters," agrees the Summer, absently scratching at their cheek. "And acceptance too. I mean, we get that to a certain extent in our Courts, but there's -- something -- about being sure that you're a people, and just being seen as a person. Sometimes some of us seem to see each other as... uhh... I dunno. A pile of scars? For better or worse."
"Yeah. And it's...I don't need any of our Wyrd shit to navigate it. Sure, I mean, it can help..." Jack lets out a rueful smile, "but I don't need it. I can just kinda...be human, or as close to human as any of us can get. I've got a hell of a lot in common with all'a them, and none of that has to do with being dragged into the Hedge. Hell, I mean I know a few people who think I disappeared to go to rehab - and if I had I wouldn't be alone there, either. They're all just...people. And being a part of it makes me a people too, yeah." He finishes talking with a nod and a small smile.
"That sounds like a relief, in a lot of ways," agrees Teagan, alternating small sips of soda with thoughtful nods. Everyone Talks To The Mirror, because the mirror reflects. "Like, a place where you can set down all of the trouble that you have in our society, and just... yeah." Their soda-holding hand sort of gestures out into the emptiness to their side. "I'm glad that you have that space."
"What do you like best about it? Just being a person, or?"
"Nah, I love the work, too. We're paid for it 'cause we deserve to be, but...it's sure as hell a labor of love for a lot of us. And it's high stress, sure, but low anxiety. If that makes any fuckin' sense. Especially when there's a group of us who work together a lot - and we all work together a lot - shit just...flows, you know?" Jack sits back a little to grab another onion ring. "There's nothing like the rush of having to problem solve on the fly, in the middle of a show. Terrifying, sure, but when you figure it out - we've all got those kinda stories to tell, I love listening to some of the older members shoot the shit with each other. Some of 'em are a pain in the ass, but they know so damn much..."
"I do get that. It's like Sigrun and her armory. Like, she does it because she needs doing, but like, the work in the forge is something she really loves. I think if she felt like she could charge for it, she'd do it full time. Not that I'm complaining about the firefighting job." A bright flash of a grin crosses their face.
They frown mildly, there. "I think it makes sense? But explain it to me. English isn't my first language, for all I've been speaking it most of my life at this point, so sometimes the fine points of the difference between stuff like 'stress' and 'anxiety' are not always clear to me." And then he continues and they 'ahh' softly. "I get that with tactics. Like in the middle of a fight, when it's all going to shit, but you've got people with you who you understand, and they understand you, and you're all working together... "
"Exactly. It's like..." Jack trails off, munching on the onion ring thoughtfully. "Shit's tough, but I'm not in my head about it. If - when - shit goes wrong, we fix it, and I don't spend a bunch of time worried about what happened or how I'm a failure or any of that. No anxiety, even when shit's a mess. Which it is, a lot." He chuckles. "We run around like crazy behind the scenes so the audience gets to look at the pretty."
Laughter from Teagan, there. "Now that's something I understand. Thank you for explaining it." They finish their soda and twist to set the can down without letting go of the singular point of contact between their opposite hand and Jack's arm. "I kinda feel that way when people are, like, setting up Direct Action as some perfect example of effortless whatever, you know? Like it isn't a constant ... project, mm? Nobody sees all the activity that goes on behind the scenes so that we look perfectly effortless to everyone else."
"The right kind of challenge is a good thing. It keeps you ... level."
"Yes. Exactly. And well...yeah, I mean, but do you do that on purpose, like we do?" Jack grins and leans into Teagan's arm, giving them a nudge. "Or is it just a byproduct of the way you all work together so well, even when shit's tough?"
They seem to actually give that some thought. "Um.... " and they nudge him back. "Both, actually, I think? I mean, we really do work well together -- which, you know, is much easier once you've been together for years, it's the byproduct of the work we put in. But also... " Teagan's voice trails off there for a minute. "There's such a thing as a 'unified front,' and I think by default that's the thing we show the world. Not everyone is as benevolent in their intentions toward our family as we might like them to be, y'know? So you... well."
"I mean. Shield wall."
"Makes sense. Yeah, we can do that when we gotta - the union I mean - but I think our employers forget it, sometimes. 'Cause, you know. Hundreds of us are harder to make into a shield wall all the time, the way your...what 's it six, now? Seven?" He shrugs. "We definitely can when we need to - still fighting with fuckin' PTC, I'd'a thought this new leadership would've backed down by now, but..."
When Jack asks, Teagan frowns, and pauses, literally counting off on their fingers. "Adora, JuneyJune, Player One, Johnnie, LauraBear, doll... " beat. "Oh, and Teagan. Right. Seven." They don't think much about the number of their motley, apparently, on a daily basis. It's just family. "Yeah, it would be much harder to do that consistently with hundreds of people, for sure." And then they frown mildly. "What's PTC?"
"Philadelphia Theater Company," Jack says with a huff. "Our contract was up with them at the end of March. Negotiations broke down and...all of us who work there at least part time have been kinda striking since. And right before their season started..."(edited)
A vague frown slides across Teagan's face, there, but the Mirrorskin rarely encounters problems that aren't solved, at least in part, by parting people's limbs from their bodies, or threatening to do so. This whole 'negotiating' thing is not usually what they do, after all. "That's -- like, a long time. How are they continuing to, you know, put on shows?"
"Their season is a small one - three shows, from April to June...and they ended up dropping the first show, an' got interns, fuckin' kids who don't know any better, for the rest. Funny, the reason we unionized there in the first place was over disputes about interns...so. Technically still on strike, but we'd all be laid off at this point, anyway. An' everyone's got other work, and and and." Jack grimaces. "I keep meaning to poke at it, but shit just keeps happening. I think we're all in that boat, right now."
A tick of their tongue against the roof of their mouth, and Teagan pulls in a breath. "So they're working kids who haven't done the thing before instead of y'all professionals doing it?" They shake their head in weary bemusement. "Right. Well. As long as y'all have, like... money? I guess?"
They pause, then offer, "I don't understand money. Sigrun and June and Sturm pay for everything."
"There's a lotta gigs in town. It's one of the reasons why nothing's really happened there, I think - PTC's one of the newer union houses, it's been obnoxious from the get go, I'd bet some people are willing to give it up as a lost cause. And it's not a big employer like, say, the Kimmel center. But. My hope. Is to fire everyone back up again. Soon. Give us time to really put pressure on PTC before their next season starts. Maybe get some of the people who give money to them fired up, too."
They just... sort of frown at Jack, there -- not disappointed or upset, just a very thoughtful sort of frown. "Do you ... need help with that? I think maybe June would be good at that kind of thing." Most of Direct Action isn't super social, of course. "I'd offer to help, but honestly..." they laugh, a soft sort of sound. "Unless you want the shit scared out of someone... "
"I...dunno yet. Haven't really figured out a plan of attack. Some of management might be worth scaring, eventually...?" Jack's frowning thoughtfully now, too. "Gonna depend on whether I can get the whole union to strike in solidarity, or not. And whether it fuckin' works. Try some of the softer methods first, you know? Save the scaring of individual people for when they really need a push."
Their free hand flips up. "I didn't think you'd actually want someone to go scaring the shit out of people, you don't need to find me a job." The upward curve of the corner of their mouth is the sort of thing that is a bit like a wink from someone else, on account of the fact that Teagan has, you know, no eyes. And cannot wink. "But yeah, those are probably more solid ideas to go with first."
"I mean I'd considered having some graffiti put up, I'm not opposed to alternate means to an end." Jack smirks and shrugs. "But eh - it's one of those things that...if it goes wrong, it's all gonna come down on me. Probably. Unless I try to keep my name out of shit, but...I'm not known for being good at that. And everyone knows that I'm the one who got us to strike in the first place, so. Any more pressure's gonna look real suspicious if my name's not behind it."
"Lux would be awesome at that, and if nothing else, if they're doing that, I can watch their back." The Mirrorskin's eyepits glitter, catching the lights from across the way just so. They putt out a small breath. "Yeah, well. Sometimes you can stay unseen,a nd sometimes you just gotta jump right into the middle of shit, because they know you're there, anyway."
"Exactly. And even if it's been a few months, I'm still a face people'll recognize. And...I mean honestly, part of me wants to embrace that. I wouldn't mind being a face for the union. I've been eyeing a spot on the board for a while..." Jack's silhouette flickers at the confession, but settles down fairly quickly. It's starting to move a little smoother now, lines blending and fading together as he moves.(edited)
Their gaze reflects back those smoothing lines, and the Mirrorskin lets go of Jack's arm long enough to snag yet another onion ring and shove the whole thing into their mouth. Cronch cromch. It's important to eat onion rings. They wipe their hand off on their jeans sort of absent-mindedly and then return that touch, just so. "Yeah? What would having a seat on the board do for you?"
"Well it pays, for one." Jack huffs out a quiet laugh. "But I eh...I'm queer, and I'm trans, and I'm not white. And I wanna keep pushing us in that direction, and help this local set an example for others. Help get us into schools, show theater kids that they can have a job and a life and that they don't have to be fuckin' exploited just 'cause they love what they do." As he talks, he starts to raise his voice. Get a little more passionate. "And maybe some miserable high schooler will see me at some job fair somewhere and realize that he's got options, or maybe some stressed as hell college senior will realize that hey, a union might be able to help them pay for the debt they're in, and still give them the chance to do something they love. And maybe the fucking government'll start to learn that we're here, and we're queer, and we're fucking organized."
Jack's a little out of breath, by the time he falls silent, and he winces. "I eh - sorry. This shit...'s important to me, y'know?"
A slow, lazy smile spreads across Teagan's face as they listen, and their attention stays entirely focused on Jack now. Occasionally prior to this, they'd been messing with eating food, glancing down to the street below on occasion, and the like -- but now they're totally focused on him. Their smile grows broader, their eyes glitter, and a brief silver sheen slides across their mirror-black face. "Jack. You don't ever have to apologize to me for being passionate about the shit that matters to you. Like, ever. I love hearing people tell me about the things that matter to them."
"Summer ain't just directionless anger. We get wrathful about the things that matter to us. The stuff we want to protect and care for. I get it. And I'm here for it."
A dark smear of a blush builds across Jack's cheeks at the compliments. "Heh. Thanks - yeah. This shit matters to me a lot, it...helped ground me, after I got back. And still does, obviously, it...yeah. Something bigger than myself to work toward, to put my energy in." To live for, although he doesn't say it outright. He reaches for an onion ring, realizes it's the last one, and offers it to Teagan. "Split?"
There's understanding in Teagan's expression when Jack explains it all. "I get it." Even if they don't get the theatre thing itself, they've got their own shit to focus on, and live for. The blush? That keeps their grin just so. And he offers the last onion ring up, so Teagan leans over and -- chomp. Because it's not like it's easy to otherwise break an onion ring in half. "Split," they agree, before chewing, swallowing, and giving Jack a brilliant grin, sharp as the edge of their machete.
Jack cackles at Teagan's antics, the charcoal lines of his silhouette dancing as he laughs and eats the other half of the onion ring. "Hey, I know this evening was meant to be about your shit - but thanks. For listening. An' I'll be around to listen to whatever shit that comes up too, you know?"
The laughter draws a brighter smile from the Mirrorskin, the same sort of grin they get at the end of a fight. "Eh. You know, when it comes down to it, I do need to talk about this shit, but like... " their voice trails off for a bit as they look for words. "I know what I need to do, right? And I know what I'm seeing in front of me. None of that's gonna change. I'm the parent, so I have to like, stow my shit, and take care of my kid, and then afterwards if I need to fall apart, sure, I can fall apart or sit there dissecting it all. And, like, knowing that, which I do, means that sometimes it's easier just to focus on taking care of other people. That's a thing I can be figuring out, too." Teagan offers a vague shrug at the end of all that, and leans over to kiss Jack on the cheek before pushing up to their feet and picking up the coat which contains their wrapped-up machete. Despite standing on the very edge of the building, they don't seem bothered about falling. "I know you will, Jack. Thank you."
"If you need someone to be there when you fall apart you got me." Jack's blush deepens when Teagan kisses his cheek, and he starts to pack the remains of their meal away.
"See you 'round, yeah?"
"Thanks, Jack," Teagan reiterates, and their grin returns at that deepened blush. "Yes, yes you will." They pull their coat on and hook Baby at their hip, then tip the other Darkling a lazy salute as they lean backwards off the roof's edge, the wind ruffling their short hair.
"I like that outfit, by the way. You look hot as fuck."
And then, looking like they're falling backward off the roof's edge, they disappear.
Jack practically drops the bag of trash when Teagan salutes - and he stands upright, at attention, before giving them a very official salute back. "...Heh." He shakes his head afterward, apologetically.
"You know I try," he says of the compliment, and winks at them before they're gone.
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