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xp_logs2007-06-10 08:19 pm
x-cable.livejournal.com) wrote in xp_logs2007-06-10 08:19 pm
Nathan and John, Sunday
Nathan is minding his own business and trying to actually relax, when John happens by. The conversation goes some very unexpected places.
As John walked along the lakefront, he fiddled with his lighter, sensing the minute sparks as he whirred the thumbwheel. A playful smile spread across his face as he caught sight of the canoes. Like a scab on your skin that you tended to want to peel off, John was constantly fighting the urge to burn and destroy.
"No burning canoes, Allerdyce!" Nathan called from over where he was on the dock, arranging the seat cushions on one of the deck chairs. A beer was already resting on the arm of the chair, and a paperback book on the other.
"You read my mind?" John choked in disbelief.
Nathan sighed. "I have eyes, John," he said as the younger man came closer. "And those eyes were watching you flip your lighter and stare very intently at the canoes with a slightly disturbing grin on your face." He settled into his chair, wincing only a little; it was humid today, and his bones were aching. "It doesn't take telepathy."
Oh. He snapped down the lid of his lighter and joined Nathan on one of the deck chairs. John had taken a liking to the north side area of the mansion. He spent most of his afternoons by the lake and often enough, he found himself admiring the boathouse of all things. Lucky bastard, he thought.
Nathan raised an eyebrow at him, but just smiled slightly as he picked up his book. Wondering if he should give John the whole 'by the way, my shields are full of holes and I'm hearing more than I should' routine.
"Don't mind if I smoke, do you?" John pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. "Want one?" He eyed the book Nathan was reading. Jeez. ...what a fucking bore.
"I've had many vices in my life," Nathan said, still smiling slightly. Boring, am I? No, Nate, don't tell him how wrong he is... "Smoking is one of the few I've avoided."
Yeah, well, we all know you're an alcoholic. John rolled his eyes and slipped a cigarette between his lips. "I'm thinking of quitting," he shrugged. "I just haven't decided when."
#I wouldn't precisely call myself an alcoholic,# Nathan sent, giving in to the somewhat devilish impulse. "And good luck with that," he said aloud, more pleasantly. "Nasty habit."
John shook his head at the outrageous injustice of it. That's not cool, man. He lighted his cigarette and leaned back in the chair. "Nicotine gum -- it doesn't sound too bad." He sucked in a deep inhale. "Maybe it'll be a new year's resolution or something." He blew the smoke out in the other direction. "So what were your vices?"
"Prior to landing here? I drank to excess - although only on special occasions. I picked fights in bars, fought for money, and had an unhealthy if profound love for blowing shit up." Nathan turned the page in his book. "Currently, I work too hard, drink to excess on special occasions, wind up in the infirmary far too often for a man of my ages... and still love blowing shit up. Although Scott and Ororo don't let me do it all that often, which I think is a crying shame."
No shit. "Really?" John considered himself intrigued, though honestly he thought Nathan looked more the part of a grumpy grandpa than some badass. "What were you? Mafia?"
"... do I look Italian?" Nathan asked, trying desperately not to laugh. "Although I can pass for a Russian native when I have to, I suppose..." He glanced sideways at John, shrugging mentally. "I was with the US government for a lot of years. Then I was a mercenary. Now I'm here."
"A mercenary, huh?" He took in another quick inhale before he stubbed his cigarette out. Nathan was right about it being a nasty habit. He coughed. It was a good thing that spring was over though; hay fever had been a bitch to deal with. "Why'd you quit?"
"Call it a return to sanity, encouraged by some health problems. I wasn't with the US government willingly, and the whole mercenary thing..." Nathan shrugged. "Anger, lack of immediately obvious other options about ten years ago."
John nodded and made an indistinct 'hm' sound.
"So to what do I owe the visit, John? Just enjoying the view?"
"...don't mean to cramp your style," John said, almost under his breath. Most days, he avoided communication like the plague. He stayed quiet for a moment and then he asked, "You still got that job opening for Elpis?"
Nathan glanced sideways at him. He'd mentioned a few times, in various conversational groups up at the mansion, that he was kind of looking for some more help in the office, since Bobby's move to Ireland. "Yeah, it's still open," he said lightly.
John raised his eyebrows slightly. "You gonna elaborate on the job specifications?"
Oooh, a fish. Nice fishie. Ignore that shiny hook... it's a worm, really it is... "Well, what do you know about Elpis, first of all?" Nathan asked reasonable.
Besides the fact that it's a non-governmental organization focused on dealing with mutant issues in third world countries? Uh... We could talk about the bombings at Tel-Aviv? John gave him a look.
Smart-mouthed little fishie... #Let's not and say we did,# Nathan sent. "It would be a fair amount of office work," he said. "Research, report-writing, stuff like that. Going to meetings, occasionally..."
I could be interested... "I'm finishing my degree in two semesters and I need to work on my resume," John said. "I was thinking that gaining some work experience in a NGO would be good." He shrugged. "Right now, I'm volunteering online for the UN -- writing advocacy letters mostly and it's all pretty generic. I'd kinda like to focus on mutant issues." But what's the pay like? ...surprisingly, he was enjoying the use of internal monologues.
#Better than you think.# "That is what we do... a lot of it in cooperation with the other major human rights and relief groups," Nathan said. "Amnesty, Doctors Without Borders, the Red Cross..."
John nodded, listening. He was interested in strategic and project planning. And well, joining up with an organization like Elpis would allow him to get some real work experience... He started to think it through for a moment.
"You're welcome to give it a try, if you want," Nathan said quietly, aware that the younger man was mulling things over. "Hell, you could sit in on the office a couple of afternoons, see if it's what you expected - what you're wanting to do."
...suppose I could. It wasn't like he had anything else to do besides going for classes in the mornings. And he didn't mind the research aspect of it... "...guess I could give it a try." John shrugged.
"Excellent. I pay rather well," Nathan said, picking up his beer. "And not just because my employees tend to wind up in the middle of riots and shootouts and cavalry charges in the Hindu Kush."
Well, in terms of job prospects, that was definitely an added bonus. John smirked.
As John walked along the lakefront, he fiddled with his lighter, sensing the minute sparks as he whirred the thumbwheel. A playful smile spread across his face as he caught sight of the canoes. Like a scab on your skin that you tended to want to peel off, John was constantly fighting the urge to burn and destroy.
"No burning canoes, Allerdyce!" Nathan called from over where he was on the dock, arranging the seat cushions on one of the deck chairs. A beer was already resting on the arm of the chair, and a paperback book on the other.
"You read my mind?" John choked in disbelief.
Nathan sighed. "I have eyes, John," he said as the younger man came closer. "And those eyes were watching you flip your lighter and stare very intently at the canoes with a slightly disturbing grin on your face." He settled into his chair, wincing only a little; it was humid today, and his bones were aching. "It doesn't take telepathy."
Oh. He snapped down the lid of his lighter and joined Nathan on one of the deck chairs. John had taken a liking to the north side area of the mansion. He spent most of his afternoons by the lake and often enough, he found himself admiring the boathouse of all things. Lucky bastard, he thought.
Nathan raised an eyebrow at him, but just smiled slightly as he picked up his book. Wondering if he should give John the whole 'by the way, my shields are full of holes and I'm hearing more than I should' routine.
"Don't mind if I smoke, do you?" John pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. "Want one?" He eyed the book Nathan was reading. Jeez. ...what a fucking bore.
"I've had many vices in my life," Nathan said, still smiling slightly. Boring, am I? No, Nate, don't tell him how wrong he is... "Smoking is one of the few I've avoided."
Yeah, well, we all know you're an alcoholic. John rolled his eyes and slipped a cigarette between his lips. "I'm thinking of quitting," he shrugged. "I just haven't decided when."
#I wouldn't precisely call myself an alcoholic,# Nathan sent, giving in to the somewhat devilish impulse. "And good luck with that," he said aloud, more pleasantly. "Nasty habit."
John shook his head at the outrageous injustice of it. That's not cool, man. He lighted his cigarette and leaned back in the chair. "Nicotine gum -- it doesn't sound too bad." He sucked in a deep inhale. "Maybe it'll be a new year's resolution or something." He blew the smoke out in the other direction. "So what were your vices?"
"Prior to landing here? I drank to excess - although only on special occasions. I picked fights in bars, fought for money, and had an unhealthy if profound love for blowing shit up." Nathan turned the page in his book. "Currently, I work too hard, drink to excess on special occasions, wind up in the infirmary far too often for a man of my ages... and still love blowing shit up. Although Scott and Ororo don't let me do it all that often, which I think is a crying shame."
No shit. "Really?" John considered himself intrigued, though honestly he thought Nathan looked more the part of a grumpy grandpa than some badass. "What were you? Mafia?"
"... do I look Italian?" Nathan asked, trying desperately not to laugh. "Although I can pass for a Russian native when I have to, I suppose..." He glanced sideways at John, shrugging mentally. "I was with the US government for a lot of years. Then I was a mercenary. Now I'm here."
"A mercenary, huh?" He took in another quick inhale before he stubbed his cigarette out. Nathan was right about it being a nasty habit. He coughed. It was a good thing that spring was over though; hay fever had been a bitch to deal with. "Why'd you quit?"
"Call it a return to sanity, encouraged by some health problems. I wasn't with the US government willingly, and the whole mercenary thing..." Nathan shrugged. "Anger, lack of immediately obvious other options about ten years ago."
John nodded and made an indistinct 'hm' sound.
"So to what do I owe the visit, John? Just enjoying the view?"
"...don't mean to cramp your style," John said, almost under his breath. Most days, he avoided communication like the plague. He stayed quiet for a moment and then he asked, "You still got that job opening for Elpis?"
Nathan glanced sideways at him. He'd mentioned a few times, in various conversational groups up at the mansion, that he was kind of looking for some more help in the office, since Bobby's move to Ireland. "Yeah, it's still open," he said lightly.
John raised his eyebrows slightly. "You gonna elaborate on the job specifications?"
Oooh, a fish. Nice fishie. Ignore that shiny hook... it's a worm, really it is... "Well, what do you know about Elpis, first of all?" Nathan asked reasonable.
Besides the fact that it's a non-governmental organization focused on dealing with mutant issues in third world countries? Uh... We could talk about the bombings at Tel-Aviv? John gave him a look.
Smart-mouthed little fishie... #Let's not and say we did,# Nathan sent. "It would be a fair amount of office work," he said. "Research, report-writing, stuff like that. Going to meetings, occasionally..."
I could be interested... "I'm finishing my degree in two semesters and I need to work on my resume," John said. "I was thinking that gaining some work experience in a NGO would be good." He shrugged. "Right now, I'm volunteering online for the UN -- writing advocacy letters mostly and it's all pretty generic. I'd kinda like to focus on mutant issues." But what's the pay like? ...surprisingly, he was enjoying the use of internal monologues.
#Better than you think.# "That is what we do... a lot of it in cooperation with the other major human rights and relief groups," Nathan said. "Amnesty, Doctors Without Borders, the Red Cross..."
John nodded, listening. He was interested in strategic and project planning. And well, joining up with an organization like Elpis would allow him to get some real work experience... He started to think it through for a moment.
"You're welcome to give it a try, if you want," Nathan said quietly, aware that the younger man was mulling things over. "Hell, you could sit in on the office a couple of afternoons, see if it's what you expected - what you're wanting to do."
...suppose I could. It wasn't like he had anything else to do besides going for classes in the mornings. And he didn't mind the research aspect of it... "...guess I could give it a try." John shrugged.
"Excellent. I pay rather well," Nathan said, picking up his beer. "And not just because my employees tend to wind up in the middle of riots and shootouts and cavalry charges in the Hindu Kush."
Well, in terms of job prospects, that was definitely an added bonus. John smirked.
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