Log: Mexican Standoff (Forge, Manuel)

[x-forge.livejournal.com]

After being persuaded not to take a crescent wrench to the knees of the mansion's resident Latin Lothario, Forge goes out on a limb and tries a more diplomatic solution. Of course, there's the macho posturing equivalent of Mutual Assured Destruction, but it's followed by gentlemanly talk.



The piano melody carried faintly through the door of the music room,
which was the first thing to catch Forge's attention. Normally if Ms.
Blaire was working on music in there, she used her guitar and any
excess sound and echoes tended to be eaten by her power. While there
were a number of students and staff in the mansion who played piano
(Forge himself among them, although badly), most of them used the
grand piano in the ballroom or the small standup piano in the informal
dining room. The music was too skilled and precise to be a student,
which led to the conclusion that whoever was playing wanted their
solitude.

Which itself led Forge to deduce that Manuel had picked the music room
as his latest sanctuary. From which it followed that his search was
over, after working off no small amount of frustration looking through
the library, the gym, and the kitchen. Fondling the electronic device
in his pocket, Forge steeled himself and swung the door open, walking
into the music room to sit by the side of the Steinway.

Placing the device on top of the piano, Forge laced his fingers
together as Manuel looked up at him calmly. "This isn't finished," he
said, indicating the device with a nod of his head. "It's a prototype
of a subneural limbic scrambler. Throws the lower functions of the
brain into chaos. Stuff like signals to the adrenal glands,
hormones... emotions. I haven't programmed it yet, so right now it's
just flashing lights. But if I finish it, it still won't serve any
purpose but to give any empaths in receiving range one huge fucking
brain-ache."

He looked away from the device, staring intently at Manuel. "I want to
have some words with you," he said, "and you can probably tell from
reading my emotional state that I'm not lying to you. This device will
fuck you up, but it's not working. And if you want to seize control of
my brain and play all sorts of empath games, there's not a thing I can
do to stop you." Forge laid his arm out on the table, metal fingers
brushing the cylindrical prototype scrambler. "But if you do," he
continued calmly, "you'd best hope you never let go. Because the
moment you do, I will finish this prototype and own your ass in so
many different ways it'll make your time in the asylum seem like a
tropical holiday. So," Forge leaned back against the piano, crossing
his arms. "What say you put down your empathy, and I'll put down my
technology, and we can converse like gentlemen?"

Manuel looked at Forge, and then let his improv piano piece trail off
into silence. "You have my attention - for the moment." he said. It
was perfectly within Forge's capabilities to build such a device, and
he'd likely use it, that fool. "But I should warn you of something
first. I'm not the only empath in the Mansion. You build that and turn
it on, and not only will you likely turn my brain into oatmeal you'll
get Danielle and the Professor as well. Just a friendly warning. Now
then, what would you like to speak to me about?"

"For someone who can sense intimately what everyone around him is
feeling," Forge began, "you seem to have developed a pretty big callus
in that regard by not giving a shit about consequences. I don't know
what happened with you and Amanda, and frankly, I don't care. But I do
know how you felt about her. I know exactly how you felt," he
said, remembering that one split-second burst of emotion that Manuel
had shared with him weeks ago in the gymnasium.

"I know how empty you must feel to lose that," he continued, before
correcting himself. "No. No, I take that back. I don't know. But I can
comprehend it. Just like I can comprehend how over the past year
Danielle's lost a husband and effectively a child. And looking at the
situation with a bit of distance, it's not all that unlikely that the
two of you..." Forge blushed slightly, waving a hand. "Whatever.
Dani's my friend. I think she deserves better than to be used as
someone's rebound lay."

Manuel smiled at Forge. "And from my perspective, it doesn't matter
what you think either way. But your concern is touching, and she does
look upon you kindly, so maybe I'll try to explain. She's a friend. I
have no intention of becoming involved in her life and her doings.
That's her business. You can't see it the way I do, but Danielle has
... needs. That aren't being met by her current circumstances. And you
have your causality entirely backwards, Forge. Ponder _that_ before
you fling your invective my way. It's easier and simpler to just blame
me, isn't it? Makes you feel good, fires you up with righteous
indignation! How _dare_ that Spaniard take advantage of _my_ friend
like that! I'll show him!" he said with a laugh. "In short, I didn't
seduce her. She seduced me."

The thought made Forge pause. "To be honest," he said slowly, "that
had never crossed my mind. I assumed with your reputation, and your
bravado that you, I mean... I jumped to the wrong conclusion. But
that's not the whole point." He let out a sigh, dropping his
shoulders. "She deserves better than just scratching an itch. After
what you've lost, I'd have thought you of all people would know that.
She's a good person. She cares about her friends, and we're both lucky
to have her consider us in that group. She deserves better."

"Of course it didn't." he said heavily. "And in some respects perhaps
you are correct - she might deserve better. But I can't give it to
her, and neither can you if you're honest to yourself about it." he
pointed out. "You keep forgetting - I _know_ how she feels. And you
know what I shared with Amanda, what I was giving her through our link
as she severed it. I don't have much of a heart anymore, and what
little I have left I guard jealously. If she wants to scratch an itch,
I'm not about to stop her. She's in no danger of becoming unduly
involved, of trying to 'reform' me or to 'heal' me. All she wants is
to dull her own pain, and if so doing helps me forget for a little
while the wounds I carry, then everyone involved is satisfied."

"Of course, if it were all about what's best for you." Forge
shot back bitterly. "But do you really think what's best for her is
the same thing? Do you think she's the same as you?"

"You might be surprised." he said with a sad smile. "And have you
_talked to her_ about what she takes away from her side of things,
besides total satisfaction?" he asked with a grin. "Or, as usual, are
you assuming you're a genius and know all the answers ahead of time? A
despicable habit - probably picked it up from Paige. You'd do well to
lose it."

Forge didn't bother to hide his wince at the cheap shot. "It's
definitely what she wants right now, I got that much. But
there's a difference between doing what you want and doing what's
right. If you guys just have a casual thing with no strings," he
shrugged, "I've got no reason not to believe you. You're a lot of
things, Manuel, but you're no liar. You're too arrogant for that. I do
know that I don't want to see her get hurt. And I'm not certain if
that's a consideration for you."

"Believe it or not, I do respect that." he said. "And believe it or
not I am quite fond of Danielle." he said. "I wish her no harm, even
when she's yanking my greatest fears out of my head and rubbing my
face in them." he said ruefully. "I thought I handled that quite well,
considering. My fears are not for public consumption. Has she showed
you yours?" he asked conversationally.

"Not long after she got here," Forge answered with a nod, remembering
the horrible experience that night, not knowing whether he was awake
or in the grip of his worst nightmare. "Your powers and hers are a lot
alike. You can take someone's deepest things they keep secret and turn
it against them. The difference being, you've learned control. She
hasn't."

Manuel nodded. "Of a sort." he admitted. "But hers - it's not _quite_
empathy. Not like mine, anyway." he said with a frustrated snort.
"Believe me, if I could help her get her gift under control I would -
for my own sake as much as hers." he admitted. "I know I am not an
easy man to get along with. My power, my background, my habits and
inclinations - they put me at odds with almost everyone in some way or
another. Danielle accepts me for who and what I am, and that is
precious to me. I swear to you, John Henry Forge, that she is safe
from me or my power while we both live under the same roof." he said.
"Is that acceptable to you, or will you insist on your damned device
or your fool's crusade?"

Forge smiled, pressing the button on the top of the device. The green
and red lights on the side began lighting up in rhythm, and the device
made a brief hum before squawking into static and falling silent.
"Actually, all it does right now is emit an electric pulse to the tune
of 'La Marsellaise'. Sure, I could make an empathic
scrambler out of it, but I can't see any reason to. Like you said,
nothing to fear."

Sweeping the buzzing cylinder up and dropping it in his pocket, Forge
rested his elbows on the grand piano, looking Manuel over. "For what
it's worth," he said, "I don't think your powers, or your breeding, or
your name have anything to do with the kind of person you are. They
might be a factor, but they're not an excuse. I think you're the type
of guy who deep down, wants to do the right thing. At least, I want to
think that."

Manuel closed his eyes and looked away. "Maybe." he said, and then got
up to walk out of the music room. He had a lot of thinking to do.