Tuesday midmorning Jay & Forge

[x-icarus.livejournal.com]

Jay comes to Forge looking to talk about nothing in particular, and
some uncomfortable buttons get pushed, but friendly advice is
given.



Finding time to find Forge wasn't the problem. It was actually the
initial finding that he had a problem with. Specifically today. He had
searched a few places, asked a few people and they all gave him run
around, mentioning offhandedly that they had seen him in selected
places and even Kevin gave him a shrug when he sought him in the shop.
It actually hadn't occured to him to go to Forge's suite until he was
heading back to his own and stopped by just to check. Knocking, he
waited a moment to see if Forge would answer, or he'd just give up
entirely and yell at him via internet to come and find Jay when he was
ready.

Setting down the CD player he'd been disassembling, Forge hauled
himself off the couch and over to the door. Finding Jay on the other
side was a bit of a surprise, and he blinked quickly. "Ah, hey," he
said, stepping aside. "What's up in the world of Jay?"

"Hey," Jay offered a smile and walked in at the invitation. "Nuttin,
somethin'... maybe everythin'. Heard 'bout the helicopter. Yer makin'
the rest o' us look bad." He took a seat, briefly glancing over the cd
player. "How'd it go then? She like it?"

"I keep telling people that it's not fair to compare themselves to
me," Forge said with a grin. "I throw off the rest of the world's
coolness values. But yes, the helicopter was courtesy of Blackagar and
Medusa. It seems the Queen had a brilliant idea for a double date. You
know, for a guy who doesn't speak, Black Bolt does a great impression
of What Are You Doing With My Cousin in mime." He shrugged and grabbed
two sodas out of the fridge, tossing one to Jay as he walked back into
the larger room. "As for the holiday itself... we enjoyed each other's
company quite a bit."

He stopped, chuckling to himself and nodding to Jay. "She liked it, yes."

Jay caught the soda and popped it open without hesitation, bringing it
to his lips. "Well, Ah'll be damned, yer as giddy as a teenaged girl.
Look at ya, all shiney an' shit. Glad ta hear she had fun, an' you
too, though Ah'd be nervous as hell on a double date," he admitted.
"Ah reckon then there's an impression ya gotta make as a 'boyfriend'
an' ya gotta live up ta standards. She's a big girl though."

"She is," Forge agreed. "But surprisingly, she's never made me feel
like I have to match up to some 'royal standard'." He paused, then
rubbed a hand through his hair nervously. "I do enough doubting for
myself, I'm glad to not have to take it from anyone else." Except
Jennie, he corrected himself silently.

"Tha's cause ya got all tha geekery ta fill in fer tha' royal standard
shit." Leaning forward, he set his drink down on the table and
fidgeted with the tab. "Give yerself some credit. Ya got job prospects
comin' outta yer ass, ya don' dress half bad, music is a bit on tha'
choicy side but fer what ya lack in there, ya make up fer in
personality an' yer a real looker, so..." he shrugged, raising the can
to his lips. "Can' say much 'bout yer mental state, but ain' tha'
protocol fer yer types?"

"My types?" Forge replied with an arched eyebrow. "And what, pray
tell, are these types, hmm?"

Jay licked his lips, surpressing a smile. "Them whirly types," he said
evasively, turning the cd player around and setting aside his pop.
"Should Ah even ask why this 'ere is lookin' tha way it does?"

"Whirly types?" Forge asked, gesturing for clarification before
looking over to the CD player. "Oh, I'm just cannibalizing the
anti-skip mechanism and the arsenic gallide laser for a project I'm
working on. But you're digressing. What do you mean, whirly types?" He
folded his arms and narrowed his eyes at his former suitemate. "If
you've got something to say about Crystal, or she and I, out with it."

"Yeah, ya know, whirly, " he said again, as though it were the most
obvious explanation in the world. "Ah'm so glad yer able ta do this
with technology an' not people. But ma question is, if ya can do this,
shouldn' ya be able ta do this with people cause they're laid out tha
same way? Know what Ah mean?" He ignored the fatherly stare and picked
up a piece of the CD player's innards and toyed with it between his
fingers. "Easy there, Cindrella. No one's stompin' on yer pumpkin
patch.."

Forge tensed up at Jay's question. "No," he said through teeth he
didn't realize he was clenching. "Organics don't work the same way.
Too... messy. Too inexact. I can't see what I see with machines. I
look at this," he held up the shell of the dismantled player, "and I
see everything it could be, all its potential, everything about it. I
can look at a pile of parts and know where everything fits. But I look
at people - and I don't have that advantage." He shrugged, trying to
push aside the memory of when Cortez had amplified his powers beyond
their limits, and he had done exactly that when he looked at Milan
-seen the other mutant as nothing but a complex organic machine.

Finally, he just shook his head. "Doesn't work that way. People are...
confusing."

"In more ways than one." Jay continuely ignored the frothing at the
mouth glare. "Sometimes Ah wish Ah could do this...It'd give me
somethin' ta focus on."

"You have your music," Forge said, brain shifting into a more familiar
gear. "And hello, you fly. There are days when I almost think
I'd like to trade, but... well. I'm rather fond of my great mutant
brain."

Blowing out a sigh at the music suggestion, he by passed that
whole topic and set the piece down, picking up another two and trying
to fit the two together. "Yeah well, at least Ah'd be normal lookin'
right? It's gettin' kinda old, bein' called a freak. Especially by yer
own boyfriend."

Blinking his eyes, Forge just quietly held up his prosthetic hand,
wiggling the fingers and raising his left leg slightly to emphasize
his point. "No getting to play the freak card with me, Jay. You know
how you get past it? Pride. Yeah, look at me. I can't even walk down
the hall at university without someone doing a double take if I'm in
short sleeves. Why do you think I wear a suit and tie all the time?
But you know what I remember in my head?" He tapped one finger against
his temple, nodding at Jay. "Anyone but me would be a wheelchair-bound
cripple after what happened. I'm different, yes. I carry around the
consequences of a bad choice for the rest of my life. But they're part
of me now, and a part that I can say I made myself. Literally, what I
do becomes part of who I am."

He reached out a hand, poking one of Jay's wings. "For god's sake,
man. You can fly. You think anyone who calls you a freak isn't
insanely jealous of that?"

Jay shifted the wing away in a frown, the familiar feeling of misery
settling into a dull ache in his chest as he recalled his fight with
Kevin. "First o' all. Ya can dress up with tha best o' 'em an' yer
smart. So ya can just dazzle tha pants off 'em with yer charm," he
smiled half heartedly. Why had he come here in the first place,
searching for Forge? He had just wanted to talk but it seemed like
just a pity trip. "People are either fallin' at my feet, lovin' me or
they're doin' their best ta give me some evil eye. There ain't no
inbetween,ya know? 'Sides, ya can cover up yer problems with a nice
suit. Ah don' know. Maybe Ah'm a lil' disappointed it came from Kev,
ya know? Ah hardly think it's jealousy there."

Jay set the piece down, finding he suddenly didn't want company now
and pushed himself to his feet, leaving his pop.

"Try understanding him," Forge said without looking up at Jay. "Try
looking at him not as your boyfriend, but as Kevin. I meant
what I said before, Jay. Love blinds you, it makes you not think
clearly, not think rationally. A decision made out of love doesn't
hold any more merit than one made out of grief or anger - and you know
those cloud your judgment. If you want to know what he thinks of you,
ask him - as Kevin, not as your boyfriend."

"Well, Ah've never been known ta be the logical type, so Ah reckon
Ah'm just gonna be blind before Ah ever get rich." Jay made his way to
the door, pausing there with his hand on the doorknob and turning.
"Say, yer good at paint jobs, right? 'cause Ah got some chips on ma
truck's paint job an' Ah need some help with it."

"See you Sunday," Forge said with a grin, "Just pull it around the
side of the garage, we'll have it looking showroom-new."