Marius Laverne (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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xp_logs2024-01-14 01:10 pm
xp_emplate) wrote in xp_logs2024-01-14 01:10 pm
Entry tags:
The Marius Laverne Apology Tour Part 2: Molly and Kurt
As it turns out, Molly meets the whole Horseman thing with admirable equanimity.
Gifting Molly Hayes alcohol felt instinctively wrong. This was a particularly puzzling impression as Marius himself had never subscribed to any particular drinking age, nor was he the type to insist it of others. He could only attribute it to the age at which he'd first met her. How old had she been, twelve? Thirteen? Young enough that he'd never understood quite how to relate to her.
Still, she was an adult now, and it would be insulting to freight her with his personal hang-ups. Besides, something about simply forwarding her an Etsy gift card for amusing hats felt as if it might lack the required panache. Marius one-armed both the box and the flowers and rapped lightly on her door.
"Molly? Do you have a moment?"
Footsteps were heard on the other side before there was a long pause. "Maybe. Why?" she said, still not opening the door quite just yet.
"I'm fully deprogrammed and making amends to those I've wronged," Marius replied. "Although I can also just leave the gifts if you prefer."
More silence. The door opened. "Gifts?" Molly said, peeking out. She had a sling on one shoulder, which covered up her Princess Leia shirt save for the head poking up over the top.
"Flowers? Huh."
"That's a bit of a get-well-soon gesture," admitted Marius. He jogged the box in the crook of his elbow. "Don't know if you're one for wine, but I got that as well. Ah, though if you're taking anything for the shoulder I wouldn't mix it."
Molly grunted her acknowledgement, then stepped aside to let Marius in. "I like mead best but wine's good too," she said.
"Mead? Interesting. I'll have to look into that." Marius obligingly followed Molly inside.
"So," he said as he watched her move to store the wine, "first of all, I'd like to apologise for the shoulder. That was a bit uncalled for on my part."
"Yeah," Molly glanced down at her arm. "It really friggin hurts. But...being temporarily evil will do that." She shrugged, then immediately regretted it.
"Ow."
Marius winced at her wince. "As I said, my apologies. Ah . . . on that topic, any questions or concerns there I can allay? I understand if there are some lingering issues there."
"It's cool. I think a lot of people have been temporarily evil before," Molly said thoughtfully. "How did yours happen? Mine was evil nanites."
Marius raised his not inconsiderable eyebrows. "Seized from hospital during treatment, personally. Nanites? Please elaborate."
"Treatment for what?" Molly said, treating it like a tit for tat kinda conversation.
"We went to a town in Alaska. People were weird. It was cause of some weird guy. I got weird too."
"I stopped making my own bone marrow again. Have to get it from other mutants or my immune system collapses, I start bleeding uncontrollably, go into a coma, all manner of unfortunate things. Weird how?"
"Again? So you could do it before?" Molly said. She opened a bag of chips.
"The nanites secretly infected people. They got me in the mouth." she pointed to her soft palette. "Apparently I'm not as invulnerable as I thought there. I thought nanite guy was so cool. Tried to attack Kyle."
"You, too?" Marius said, fascinated. "Not that we should start bonding over attacking Kyle. Although it is odd that it keeps happening."
"Didn't answer my question," Molly said, folding her arms expectantly.
"Right, sorry. Yes, I came to the school sick, actually. Then I got sicker. Started acquiring odd secondary powers like that teleportation you saw -- which, incidentally, is quite unhealthy on its own. Made my lungs stop working, skin fall off. Very attractive. Anyway, got a bone marrow transplant that worked until it didn't. Now . . ." Marius raised his gloved hands and wiggled his fingers meaningfully.
"Gross!" Molly said with fascination. "Did you know we have a portal to other dimensions in the chapel basement now?"
It was a giant segue but she had a point...if known only to her.
"I did. Kyle does a newsletter." Talking to Molly was almost relaxing. It was like being a leaf blown gently across the surface of a lake. "Is that where the drones came from? The extradimensional reconnaissance?"
"No, I made them," Molly said proudly. She then made a face. "You totally owe me for breaking Curly," she said.
"I do," Marius agreed. "You know, some people are reluctant to attach a price tag to forgiveness. I urge you not to be such a person. Give me an estimate, and it shall be paid in full."
Molly squinted. "Wait, you're rich? How long has that been?"
Marius countered with raised eyebrows. "Since birth?"
"...Oh," Molly said slowly, nodding. "Uh...well, I made him myself and some of the components were pretty rare. We use them for going through the portal and stuff. So...I gotta get back to you on that."
The man returned the nod solemnly. "Send me an itemised list of what's needed and it shall be yours. I shall add it to the mead."
"Dude, you are gonna need me to source it for you. Some of it's like....really, really rare. We'll have to go shopping together," Molly said with a grin.
"Oh! Anyway...other dimensions...I was gonna say, maybe there'll be special marrow in other dimensions that might help?"
"Could be," Marius replied, a little dubiously. "If I need it, anyway. We're still trying to figure out where that stands right now. But in the meantime . . ." Marius stepped back and swept into a courtly bow.
"Yes, Molly Hayes. I would be delighted to take you shopping. And I shall even carry your bags."
He paused, then looked at her immobilized arm.
"Er, obviously."
An uncomfortable conversation with Kurt proves easier than it might have been.
Marius thought he'd been doing well, really. The gifts had been useful props, excuses that allowed him the illusion of fulfilling some formal social requirement for incidents such as this without meaningfully engaging with the fact there really was no appropriate etiquette for "sorry I assaulted you whilst trying to perpetrate a mass murder". Just a little bunker built to withstand the reality that was his life for the foreseeable future. To an extent, anyway. It had been . . . not easy, but at least manageable with the people he didn't know well.
This one wasn't going to be so easy.
Squaring his shoulders, Marius rapped on the suite door.
"Kurt?"
It was almost as if Kurt had been expecting him, with how quickly he came to the door. "Hello, Marius. Come in."
Marius nodded awkwardly. "Cheers. So, ah . . . been a while. That last incident excepted, of course." He glanced at the box in his hands, as if he'd briefly forgotten its purpose, and then proffered it to the older man.
"Not quite an adequate apology for engaging in mid-air combat," Marius explained, "but when in doubt I default to spirits. I thought you might appreciate a good red."
Kurt smiled and accepted the gift. "No apology is needed, you know. As I understand it, this time you truly were not yourself."
"Not to the extent I might wish, unfortunately." Marius let Kurt close the door behind them, suddenly unsure where to look or what to do with his hands now that he'd been divested of the gift. "Just . . . wanted to say thanks, I suppose. For keeping me from doing more harm than I did. Seems to be a talent of yours."
"I do my best, and you are welcome." He set the wine down on a table, for now. "Can I ask... were you aware, when all this was happening?"
"I was there for it all. Just . . . didn't have it in me to care it was happening." Marius tried to find something to distract himself, but Kurt's suite was spartan. He occupied himself with inspecting a vintage circus poster, carefully framed.
"I don't know if you'd call it proper brainwashing," he continued, like a man testing his stitches. "It was more like . . . having the top of my head taken off. Akkaba put me in direct connection with their god, or messiah, or however they regard him. En Sabah Nur. Didn't get his thoughts or anything nearly so useful, but his purpose, how he saw the world and the rest of us living in it . . . that they gave me. Turns out it becomes difficult to recall humans have any sort of individual worth after the first millenia or so."
"Now that is very interesting. Please, sit down." Kurt did so as well. "So it was a connection, but this En Sabah Nur existed somewhere separate to you at the same time?"
Marius dropped into a chair, almost relieved to be told what to do. He rubbed the deep furrow between his brows and searched for the right words. "Right. He's . . . best I can describe it, he's like the ocean. Pulls you down, fills you up. Once you've sunk deep enough it becomes all you can see. But for him, though? I'm not sure he even knew I was there. What does the sea care about one more bottle tossed into it? All he needs to do is exist. The rest of us bend around him."
He nodded, listening carefully. "And his followers, from what you saw... would you say they are in the same situation as you were, a bottle drowning in the ocean, or acting freely?"
"The followers? There's a self-destructive twat with delusions of grandeur born every minute, and they all signed on to Akkaba," was the flat reply. "The others, the Horsemen . . . them I don't know about. War, I know they found him through the medical system, too, but we never met to compare notes. Suppose they'd have gotten the same treatment just for the sake of practicality. That's the benefit of having avatars, I suppose. Independent operators, but all acting from the same will. I never even needed to talk strategy. Just . . . knew."
"That would make sense", Kurt agreed. "So far as we can tell, none of you had been converted to the cult, and they would not want to risk you getting your own ideas."
"No. They had me well-leashed." Unconsciously, Marius raised a hand to his chest to lay it against the raised edges of the brand beneath the fabric of his shirt. "Some magic bollocks. There was a ritual. That link was broken, I'm told. I hope not to repeat it."
Kurt glanced at where Marius' hand was resting. "Is... is there something there you might like to have wiped away? I know a little of rituals, and my sister might be able to help with that."
Acid bile rose in his throat. "No!" Marius snapped, jerking back in the chair before he caught himself. He squeezed his eyes shut and composed himself before continuing, "Thank you, but I don't . . . I don't want to be touched, merci. I still don't know if my body's even settled yet. Just . . . no one put hands on me, for a while. Please."
"It was an offer only", Kurt said calmly, unoffended. "No one is going to force anything on you ever again, if we have any say in it."
"Right. Right, I know." It didn't do much to quell the spike in his blood pressure, but he had to remember where he was now. These people had stopped him. They were people Marius could trust.
But he'd trusted his doctor, too.
"A . . . anyway," said the younger man, smoothing a gloved hand down his shirt, "I don't plan on doing anything drastic until it's sure I'm stabilised. We don't yet know if my marrow deficiency will return. The extras Akkaba put in me have gone, but I fed during the fight. It'd be two weeks at least til anything would show for the other."
"Understood", he said quietly. "You need to take some time to heal in your own ways, before even considering anything else."
"Right. Anything . . . else." Marius' eyes skated away. This was the part he'd tried to avoid thinking about. What else could there be, after this? Go back to Brisbane and carry on as if the last year of his life had never happened?
"You know that you are welcome to stay for as long as you need to?" Kurt asked, reading his expression. "And I do mean as long. You are among friends in this house."
Marius was silent. Unbidden, his mind went back to another conversation he'd had with Kurt all those years ago. The first time people had been hurt as a result of his own pride and desperation. The first time the other man had stepped in to stop him from doing further harm. He'd asked Kurt a question, then. It was the same question that had followed him ever since.
"How many people you let a rabid dog bite before you put it down?"
The Australian shook his head.
"I know I would be," Marius said quietly. "Just . . . if I do, not sure I can return the favour."
"Favours are not given with expectation of return, Marius. Or... they should not be, in any case, and I can promise this one is not."
Marius laughed without humour. "No worries. I only want to honour the social contract of not making you regret the invitation."
The Australian extricated himself from the chair and stood to face Kurt. "Regardless," he said, "I'm here a few weeks more at least. I'll think on it."
"All right." He stood in turn, a hand half-offered with no pressure. "My door is open to you at any time."
Automatically, Marius began to reciprocate only to be jarred back to awareness by the instinctual flex of teeth against the leather of his glove. His body was reacting to Kurt's proximity, trying to engage the latching reflex. Slowly, the younger man closed his hand.
"Thank you," he said, and meant it.
Gifting Molly Hayes alcohol felt instinctively wrong. This was a particularly puzzling impression as Marius himself had never subscribed to any particular drinking age, nor was he the type to insist it of others. He could only attribute it to the age at which he'd first met her. How old had she been, twelve? Thirteen? Young enough that he'd never understood quite how to relate to her.
Still, she was an adult now, and it would be insulting to freight her with his personal hang-ups. Besides, something about simply forwarding her an Etsy gift card for amusing hats felt as if it might lack the required panache. Marius one-armed both the box and the flowers and rapped lightly on her door.
"Molly? Do you have a moment?"
Footsteps were heard on the other side before there was a long pause. "Maybe. Why?" she said, still not opening the door quite just yet.
"I'm fully deprogrammed and making amends to those I've wronged," Marius replied. "Although I can also just leave the gifts if you prefer."
More silence. The door opened. "Gifts?" Molly said, peeking out. She had a sling on one shoulder, which covered up her Princess Leia shirt save for the head poking up over the top.
"Flowers? Huh."
"That's a bit of a get-well-soon gesture," admitted Marius. He jogged the box in the crook of his elbow. "Don't know if you're one for wine, but I got that as well. Ah, though if you're taking anything for the shoulder I wouldn't mix it."
Molly grunted her acknowledgement, then stepped aside to let Marius in. "I like mead best but wine's good too," she said.
"Mead? Interesting. I'll have to look into that." Marius obligingly followed Molly inside.
"So," he said as he watched her move to store the wine, "first of all, I'd like to apologise for the shoulder. That was a bit uncalled for on my part."
"Yeah," Molly glanced down at her arm. "It really friggin hurts. But...being temporarily evil will do that." She shrugged, then immediately regretted it.
"Ow."
Marius winced at her wince. "As I said, my apologies. Ah . . . on that topic, any questions or concerns there I can allay? I understand if there are some lingering issues there."
"It's cool. I think a lot of people have been temporarily evil before," Molly said thoughtfully. "How did yours happen? Mine was evil nanites."
Marius raised his not inconsiderable eyebrows. "Seized from hospital during treatment, personally. Nanites? Please elaborate."
"Treatment for what?" Molly said, treating it like a tit for tat kinda conversation.
"We went to a town in Alaska. People were weird. It was cause of some weird guy. I got weird too."
"I stopped making my own bone marrow again. Have to get it from other mutants or my immune system collapses, I start bleeding uncontrollably, go into a coma, all manner of unfortunate things. Weird how?"
"Again? So you could do it before?" Molly said. She opened a bag of chips.
"The nanites secretly infected people. They got me in the mouth." she pointed to her soft palette. "Apparently I'm not as invulnerable as I thought there. I thought nanite guy was so cool. Tried to attack Kyle."
"You, too?" Marius said, fascinated. "Not that we should start bonding over attacking Kyle. Although it is odd that it keeps happening."
"Didn't answer my question," Molly said, folding her arms expectantly.
"Right, sorry. Yes, I came to the school sick, actually. Then I got sicker. Started acquiring odd secondary powers like that teleportation you saw -- which, incidentally, is quite unhealthy on its own. Made my lungs stop working, skin fall off. Very attractive. Anyway, got a bone marrow transplant that worked until it didn't. Now . . ." Marius raised his gloved hands and wiggled his fingers meaningfully.
"Gross!" Molly said with fascination. "Did you know we have a portal to other dimensions in the chapel basement now?"
It was a giant segue but she had a point...if known only to her.
"I did. Kyle does a newsletter." Talking to Molly was almost relaxing. It was like being a leaf blown gently across the surface of a lake. "Is that where the drones came from? The extradimensional reconnaissance?"
"No, I made them," Molly said proudly. She then made a face. "You totally owe me for breaking Curly," she said.
"I do," Marius agreed. "You know, some people are reluctant to attach a price tag to forgiveness. I urge you not to be such a person. Give me an estimate, and it shall be paid in full."
Molly squinted. "Wait, you're rich? How long has that been?"
Marius countered with raised eyebrows. "Since birth?"
"...Oh," Molly said slowly, nodding. "Uh...well, I made him myself and some of the components were pretty rare. We use them for going through the portal and stuff. So...I gotta get back to you on that."
The man returned the nod solemnly. "Send me an itemised list of what's needed and it shall be yours. I shall add it to the mead."
"Dude, you are gonna need me to source it for you. Some of it's like....really, really rare. We'll have to go shopping together," Molly said with a grin.
"Oh! Anyway...other dimensions...I was gonna say, maybe there'll be special marrow in other dimensions that might help?"
"Could be," Marius replied, a little dubiously. "If I need it, anyway. We're still trying to figure out where that stands right now. But in the meantime . . ." Marius stepped back and swept into a courtly bow.
"Yes, Molly Hayes. I would be delighted to take you shopping. And I shall even carry your bags."
He paused, then looked at her immobilized arm.
"Er, obviously."
An uncomfortable conversation with Kurt proves easier than it might have been.
Marius thought he'd been doing well, really. The gifts had been useful props, excuses that allowed him the illusion of fulfilling some formal social requirement for incidents such as this without meaningfully engaging with the fact there really was no appropriate etiquette for "sorry I assaulted you whilst trying to perpetrate a mass murder". Just a little bunker built to withstand the reality that was his life for the foreseeable future. To an extent, anyway. It had been . . . not easy, but at least manageable with the people he didn't know well.
This one wasn't going to be so easy.
Squaring his shoulders, Marius rapped on the suite door.
"Kurt?"
It was almost as if Kurt had been expecting him, with how quickly he came to the door. "Hello, Marius. Come in."
Marius nodded awkwardly. "Cheers. So, ah . . . been a while. That last incident excepted, of course." He glanced at the box in his hands, as if he'd briefly forgotten its purpose, and then proffered it to the older man.
"Not quite an adequate apology for engaging in mid-air combat," Marius explained, "but when in doubt I default to spirits. I thought you might appreciate a good red."
Kurt smiled and accepted the gift. "No apology is needed, you know. As I understand it, this time you truly were not yourself."
"Not to the extent I might wish, unfortunately." Marius let Kurt close the door behind them, suddenly unsure where to look or what to do with his hands now that he'd been divested of the gift. "Just . . . wanted to say thanks, I suppose. For keeping me from doing more harm than I did. Seems to be a talent of yours."
"I do my best, and you are welcome." He set the wine down on a table, for now. "Can I ask... were you aware, when all this was happening?"
"I was there for it all. Just . . . didn't have it in me to care it was happening." Marius tried to find something to distract himself, but Kurt's suite was spartan. He occupied himself with inspecting a vintage circus poster, carefully framed.
"I don't know if you'd call it proper brainwashing," he continued, like a man testing his stitches. "It was more like . . . having the top of my head taken off. Akkaba put me in direct connection with their god, or messiah, or however they regard him. En Sabah Nur. Didn't get his thoughts or anything nearly so useful, but his purpose, how he saw the world and the rest of us living in it . . . that they gave me. Turns out it becomes difficult to recall humans have any sort of individual worth after the first millenia or so."
"Now that is very interesting. Please, sit down." Kurt did so as well. "So it was a connection, but this En Sabah Nur existed somewhere separate to you at the same time?"
Marius dropped into a chair, almost relieved to be told what to do. He rubbed the deep furrow between his brows and searched for the right words. "Right. He's . . . best I can describe it, he's like the ocean. Pulls you down, fills you up. Once you've sunk deep enough it becomes all you can see. But for him, though? I'm not sure he even knew I was there. What does the sea care about one more bottle tossed into it? All he needs to do is exist. The rest of us bend around him."
He nodded, listening carefully. "And his followers, from what you saw... would you say they are in the same situation as you were, a bottle drowning in the ocean, or acting freely?"
"The followers? There's a self-destructive twat with delusions of grandeur born every minute, and they all signed on to Akkaba," was the flat reply. "The others, the Horsemen . . . them I don't know about. War, I know they found him through the medical system, too, but we never met to compare notes. Suppose they'd have gotten the same treatment just for the sake of practicality. That's the benefit of having avatars, I suppose. Independent operators, but all acting from the same will. I never even needed to talk strategy. Just . . . knew."
"That would make sense", Kurt agreed. "So far as we can tell, none of you had been converted to the cult, and they would not want to risk you getting your own ideas."
"No. They had me well-leashed." Unconsciously, Marius raised a hand to his chest to lay it against the raised edges of the brand beneath the fabric of his shirt. "Some magic bollocks. There was a ritual. That link was broken, I'm told. I hope not to repeat it."
Kurt glanced at where Marius' hand was resting. "Is... is there something there you might like to have wiped away? I know a little of rituals, and my sister might be able to help with that."
Acid bile rose in his throat. "No!" Marius snapped, jerking back in the chair before he caught himself. He squeezed his eyes shut and composed himself before continuing, "Thank you, but I don't . . . I don't want to be touched, merci. I still don't know if my body's even settled yet. Just . . . no one put hands on me, for a while. Please."
"It was an offer only", Kurt said calmly, unoffended. "No one is going to force anything on you ever again, if we have any say in it."
"Right. Right, I know." It didn't do much to quell the spike in his blood pressure, but he had to remember where he was now. These people had stopped him. They were people Marius could trust.
But he'd trusted his doctor, too.
"A . . . anyway," said the younger man, smoothing a gloved hand down his shirt, "I don't plan on doing anything drastic until it's sure I'm stabilised. We don't yet know if my marrow deficiency will return. The extras Akkaba put in me have gone, but I fed during the fight. It'd be two weeks at least til anything would show for the other."
"Understood", he said quietly. "You need to take some time to heal in your own ways, before even considering anything else."
"Right. Anything . . . else." Marius' eyes skated away. This was the part he'd tried to avoid thinking about. What else could there be, after this? Go back to Brisbane and carry on as if the last year of his life had never happened?
"You know that you are welcome to stay for as long as you need to?" Kurt asked, reading his expression. "And I do mean as long. You are among friends in this house."
Marius was silent. Unbidden, his mind went back to another conversation he'd had with Kurt all those years ago. The first time people had been hurt as a result of his own pride and desperation. The first time the other man had stepped in to stop him from doing further harm. He'd asked Kurt a question, then. It was the same question that had followed him ever since.
"How many people you let a rabid dog bite before you put it down?"
The Australian shook his head.
"I know I would be," Marius said quietly. "Just . . . if I do, not sure I can return the favour."
"Favours are not given with expectation of return, Marius. Or... they should not be, in any case, and I can promise this one is not."
Marius laughed without humour. "No worries. I only want to honour the social contract of not making you regret the invitation."
The Australian extricated himself from the chair and stood to face Kurt. "Regardless," he said, "I'm here a few weeks more at least. I'll think on it."
"All right." He stood in turn, a hand half-offered with no pressure. "My door is open to you at any time."
Automatically, Marius began to reciprocate only to be jarred back to awareness by the instinctual flex of teeth against the leather of his glove. His body was reacting to Kurt's proximity, trying to engage the latching reflex. Slowly, the younger man closed his hand.
"Thank you," he said, and meant it.
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I really enjoyed the back and forth with Molly, but also that is took her a few exchanges to really get comfortable (past just saying it was nothing). I also had to laugh at her being so particular about what she needed to repair her drones.
— Oh Molly. I liked how quickly her tone shifted when she could share her own evil phase and the portal work.
Kurt's log is so subtly crafted. I had to read it a couple times, but Kurt is just so thoughtful and his careful questioning gets Marius to step off his guard (which is then broken with a great honest reaction).
— Kurt, I believe you.
no subject