xp_logs | Jennie and Marius

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The truth-telling comes to a head when Jennie finds herself putting Marius in an awkward position. And finds out an uncomfortable truth herself.

The glow from the tip of her cigarette briefly illuminated Jennie's face in the dark of the early evening. The situation with truthful verse Jennie had found pointedly hilarious. Up until the point when she had started doing it herself that morning. Her English class had been particularly memorable when she'd lost it at another student and wound up cursing her out in verse, one sequence involving "cunt" and "punt."

The day had culminated in her openly smoking on the smoker's porch. She figured that spending the day speaking the truth in verse deserved a pointed "Don't give a crap" moment.

"You know, whilst studied silence is not precisely my forte, talking to the object of your ire in order to inform them you shall not be talking to them seems a bit contrary to the spirit of the thing. On the other hand, if the target is not so informed there is the risk the punishment will pass unnoticed. Truly it is a quandary."

Marius leaned against the far side of the porch, his trainers silent in the grass. With a sigh, he turned his head towards Jennie. "So," he said, his voice resigned, "am I allowed to be told what it is I've done?"

Jennie raised an eyebrow at him and took a drag off her cigarette in order to forestall the inevitable. She exhaled slowly.

"Forgive me for trying to buy time, today I'm compiled to speak plainly and in rhyme," Jennie shook her head. I sound soooo lame. She sighed.

"I challenge you to take a guess, who has arrived recently that caused much stress? I tried to talk to you and just as I feared, you upped and disappeared. Which should have not been a surprise to this one. when things get even remotely tough, you turn tail and run," Jennie finished, completely deadpan.

It wasn't said sharply enough to come as a slap, but her words did leave a palpable sting. The skin around one of Marius' eyes tightened a fraction. We're just going right into it, aren't we.

"Yes," the boy said after a long moment, "I do do that. Given the rarity of self-reflection on my part, you can imagine the difficulty engendered by the unexpected necessity. Apologies for my unavailability. I'm still in the process of sortin' through things."

"I apologize for the timing, this is not a conversation we should be having while I'm stuck rhyming," Jennie rolled her eyes. "When you 'sort through things'" she used her fingers as quotation marks, "usually pain and suffering on my part it inevitably brings. When are you going to grow up and find some maturity? I know I'd feel a deeper sense of security. But wait, no, that was mean, I know you would rather not have this chat. I know better than to expect more of you than that." The words were bitter, but the tone was even. She pinched the bridge of her nose, mouth twitching as she tried to stop talking.

"I'm sorry, I'm compelled to say as such, maybe I depend on you too much," she finished quietly, voice barely audible, and flinched.

Why? Despite the fact he was able to prevent the question from achieving vocalization, for a moment that was all Marius could wonder. He liked to think of himself as an entertaining individual -- and, though he was prepared to vigorously deny such claims, dared hope he was even occasionally a decent one. But for all that, for what could he be relied upon? To think in such a straight line intricate corners like empathy and morality were entirely excised? To be so focused on the goal his field of vision narrowed to virtual nonexistence, to the detriment of anyone who had the misfortune to be standing in his general proximity? Jennie, of all people, should have known that. It had been she and Manuel who had suffered for it.

But in a way, she was right. Questioning the nature of their friendship wasn't something he wanted to do right now, and from the look on her face he though the feeling might be mutual. Exhaling, Marius retreated to the response nearly always appropriate: apology.

"I'm sorry," said Marius, his tone a little softer now, "but in truth, I simply didn't know what to say. To you, or Manny, or anyone. And so, rather than be caught without words, I found it preferable to remove myself from the possibility of conversation entirely." He paused, and shook his head. "Yes. I ran."

"Yes, you do run, to wallow. Just be warned, I've stopped wanting to follow. I don't say these things out spite, but when has you running ever made anything right?" Oh God, why couldn't she shut up? "I fear, that in order for you to be comfortable where you lie, you're willing to let important things, like relationships, die." Jennie clapped a hand over her mouth before she could say more. This was hitting way too close to things she never said out loud. Whoever had done this to her, if there was such an individual to which she could pile upon blame, she was going to find him or her and beat them within an inch of their lives.

Marius spread his hands, exposing the scar tissue that marred his palms. This was getting complicated. "I don't know what to say. If a wand could be waved to further my maturity beyond the level of a rather dim child of seven it would be done, and happily. However, as we are both aware, leaps in maturity are largely brought home only with the associated impact of heavy objects. I can, and do, apologize -- I will make the attempt to be more aware. Remarkable as it may seem, I do try. But by my own admission, sensitivity is one of the few areas in which I do not excel. I don't mean to disappoint, but . . . " He sighed, shoulders sagging. "Much as I dislike applying this term to myself, the phrase 'realistic expectations' might be necessary. In truth, I do understand if you find those terms unacceptable."

Jennie shook her head, not quite believing what she was hearing. And strangely enough, it hurt to be hearing this. She felt like she had swallowed something sharp. "Do you not even care if you've hurt me? I understand that one must always feel the need to be free," she said. "Because it sounds like you're not even willing to make an effort here, Marius. Does this just not matter at all to you, this friendship so precarious?" She took another drag off her cigarette. She really hoped he wouldn't answer or do her a favor and take off. Because while she wanted to know, she also really didn't want to know.

Marius wondered if he had slipped into one of the less obvious circles of hell. His communication skills seemed to conspire to fail at the worst of all possible times, and he was running out of ideas on alternative approaches.

"Don't take my incompetence at expressin' concern for a lack of it," Marius said, starting with the irrefutable. "I did apologize. Badly, perhaps, but for my part it was sincere." He opened his mouth to continue, then stopped. "I'm think I should pause for your input before I've the opportunity to kick my own tonsils again."

Something was bubbling to the surface, something long buried and deeper than the question of 'do you actually give a crap about me?' Jennie finished off her cigarette and ground it under the railing before tossing it into one of the cans, desperately stalling for time. She gripped the railing with white knuckles. "I..." she faltered. "It's so hard... to accept that you do, when all I have to go on is my own guess. Oh, for the love of god can I just give it a rest?" she said, directing the last towards herself and hit in the railing in frustration.

"The reason this means so much to me, is because I..." Oh god, no. No.. NO. She clapped a hand over her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut. Not that. Anything but that. Her internal struggle made her cheeks flush with the effort, before a faint glow began to emenate from her. The harder she squeezed her eyes shut, the brighter it became, until she was surrounded by a white nimbus. Before Marius do anything, it pulsed out, and Jennie dropped into a crouch, one hand going to her head.

"Ow, Jesus fuck, what hell was that?" she said, rubbing her forehead and grimacing. Then she paused, and blinked. "Oh hey, I think it stopped," she paused and waited for another rhyming couplet. When nothing came, her shoulders sagged in relief. "Thank you God."

Marius blinked yellow eyes at her, then automatically looked up in case Jennie's power decided to even out the very visual surge of good luck with a falling tree. Blunt-force trauma failed to occur. He allowed himself to relax a fraction and turned back to his friend. "You all right there?" he asked, head tilted with concern.

"Yeah," Jennie muttered self-consciously, her face burning. She stood and dusted off her hands. "God, that stuff, whatever the hell it is, is evil." At least her powers had saved her from complete and total humiliation. "I'm sorry," she sighed. "That was not awkward at all."

Marius snorted, flicking the hair from his eyes. "On the contrary, compared to any other conversation involvin' my utter obliviousness to the extent of my actions, I feel the regular rhyme scheme gave the encounter a certain je ne c'est quoi." The assessment didn't contain nearly the sarcasm it could have. Relief that the end of the awkwardness was in sight provided a significant balance.

Jennie peered at him through slitted eyelids, with her fists on her hips, thinking. "Since we're being honest tonight, I just feel that I have to tell you. Your hair looks really stupid tonight. It's like, all, frizzy." She gestured for emphasis. "And you're a big dorkface. Oh! And uh, you also smell," Jennie nodded. She strode up to him and gave his shoulder a shove. "So there." She needed to put them both back on familiar ground, and fast.

Marius looked down at her, eyebrows raised. "Well. If the absorption of abuse is required to make amends, I gamely accept." He patted his head absently. "Except for the hair. That is the sole fault of humidity."

"Nope. Can't blame it on the weather," Jennie shook her head, then looked up at him. "I hate it when you run away. I have no one to abuse. Also, since we're now more than friends...er, as in we're teammates too. I just gotta know if I can depend on you. Especially since it now it involves literally getting shot at." Nice save, there, Stavros. You moron.

"Ah, no worries there. What I lack in emotional insight I more than make up for with my willingness to absorb vast amounts of physical damage. I am at your disposal as human shield any time." Marius thumped his chest with a fist. Whilst not exactly the biggest issue on the table, the issue of teammate dependability seemed the safest to address. Or at least the one he felt reasonably confident he understood, which at this point in the conversation was really all he could hope for.

Jennie rubbed her face. "Let's go in. Please. Before I humiliate myself further tonight." She had cut way too close to the heart of the matter, and stepped into unfamiliar and vaguely terrifying territory. She didn't know what Marius truly thought of her, if he cared as much as she wanted him to. Because somehow, in some way, her feelings had possibly crossed a boundary. She needed time to think on it, and sincerely did not wish to discuss it with him. Or have him find out. Ever.

"Right, right," Marius agreed, speaking from an island in the calm seas of ignorance. He held the screen door open for Jennie before following her in, wondering what it was like to have the filter between brain and mouth torn away.

Inconvenient, no doubt, he concluded as the screen door banged behind them. I suppose it's just as well I've never had one.