xp_logs | Manuel and Marie-Ange: Has Anyone Told You Today That You're Very Stupid?

Who: Manuel de la Rocha, Marie-Ange Colbert
Where: Music Room
When: Sunday Aug 29, 2004
What Happens: They talk, Marie-Ange tries to get it into Manny's head how very stupid he actually is, and for a second or two there actually empathizes with him.

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Manuel stepped out of the recording booth, mopping the sweat off his brow. He looked spent, being coated in sweat and with a fatigued expression on his face. On the plus side, he was making progress on getting his feelings out via his music, since his usual form of emotional expression currently was wallowing in a black deep funk, and his new form of emotional expression had a broken arm and tried to take a runner.

Manuel de la Rocha was the second-to-last person Marie-Ange wanted to run into. So, naturally, he was leaving the music room just as she was arriving. Biting down hard on the inside of her cheek, she walked past him, trying to look as calm and unperturbed as possible, and not succeeding one bit. Espically since she couldn't help but snort in disgust at the exhausted and pained expression on his face. As if she was suppoed to feel -bad- for him. Except that she supposed she should take steps to remedy the situation, just in case. Not that she knew what those steps were, she thought.

Manuel blinked at Marie-Ange. She wasn't deliberately projecting at him, as far as he could tell, but at the same time she was One Unhappy Camper. Which suited his mood like a glove, as he was far from being in the best of moods himself. "Might as well go ahead and spill it." he said to her. "You'll feel better."

"I am fine, Manuel." It was probably completly useless and pointless to lie to Manuel, but she wasn't going to outright tell him. She should have just walked away the minute she knew he was there. "Or I will be fine eventually. I just have to remember that there are some things that are a higher priority than petty anger." Why couldn't she just keep her mouth shut around Manuel? It always seemed like she lost all sense of restraint the minute he was in the room.

Manuel quirked his eyebrow, but let her comment pass unchallenged. "It's not healthy to repress your emotions." he said. "Trust me, I would know. Especially of late."

"Trust me. In this case, it is healthier for everyone if I keep this as bottled up as possible." Marie-Ange gripped one hand into a fist and tried to ignore the urge to tell Manuel just what kind of idiot he was, and exactly how miserable and hurt Amanda was. And that he could take steps to fix it. She just didn't think he would listen, because he was Manuel, and Manuel -never- listened.

Manuel didn't miss the balled fist. "Ah, I think I get the idea now." he said. "You're angry at _me_. Or at Jubilee, but most likely at me. I should be used to it by now, you're always angry with me for one reason or another." he said with a theatrical sigh. "So which cardinal sin did I commit this time?"

"I am not angry at you. I am furious with Jubilee, she should have known better." It was really useless to hold her tongue. She always ended up saying whatever she thought anyway. "You are enjoying this, watching them pick at each other? It is going to destroy one of them." If it did not end up destroying everyone else in the long run. But Marie-Ange wasn't saying -that-.

Manuel smiled cruelly. "Turnabout is fair play." he grinned. "Like for like. Jubilee was my way of sending my dearest Amanda a message. I and my feelings are not to be trifled with, not after I opened myself to her body and soul." he said, the old anger and fear rising inside of him. So much for the recording session's good.

Maybe it -was- too late for Manuel. "You ... " There were not really words enough to express how disgusted Marie-Ange was, and no amount of reminding herself that Manuel could -not- be led down that path was holding back the vast sinkhole of anger she felt. "You.. . you are going to destroy the world. Do you know that? Unless you stop this, you are going to destroy everyone you care for." There. It was said.

"So I've been told." he said calmly. "But as someone else tells me, the future is mutable, and can be changed." He ran his fingers along the scar tissue on his left wrist for a second, then let his hands fall. "I don't really have a choice, now, do I?" he asked rhetorically. "Not when opening myself, sharing myself with her, just leads me to being stabbed like she stabbed me."

"You had a choice. You could have not taken revenge. You could have talked to Amanda instead of delibratly hurting her." Marie-Ange shut her eyes, fearful that if she continued to look Manuel in the face, that she would do something drastic and possibly painful - for him. "Empath, on the throne like the emperor is the only thing I have ever seen that is in the distant future. I do not know what will cause it. I do not know what will -stop- it." But it had to be many little things. The future was made of tiny little moments, a minute at a time. "I know that in that future, you and Amanda are apart."

"I could have just stood still and let her eviscerate my heart, in other words." he said nastily. "Because talking is what got me into this in the first place. You'll have to forgive me if I am not too enamored of that tactic." he sneered. "She has not talked to me." he pointed out.

Marie-Ange's aim was really -very- good. As evidenced by the deck of tarot cards that bounced neatly off the middle of Manuel's forehead. "Revenge solves nothing. Now, instead of one or two people being miserable, now four people are miserable, if not more. So I suppose if your goal is to make everyone miserable, you are well on your way. Did you achieve anything? You do not feel better, Amanda does not feel better, Jubilee ... " Maybe talking about Jubilee was not a good idea.

Manuel let the deck bounce off his forehead and fall to the ground. "Is that some sort of new fortune-telling method that I am unfamiliar with?" he asked her, leaning up against the wall. "And I actually did feel somewhat better. Jubilee was ... vigorous, in a very clumsy way."

Marie-Ange smirked. "Yes, I am certain that the miserable expression on your face when I came in was because you feel better." She was ignoring the commentary on clumsy virginial Jubilee. It would lead to the bad place, or a discussion about virgins. Either was not welcome. "I am not empathic, Manuel, and I do not have Doug's ability to read body language, but your expression was not a man who is happy with his life."

"Of course I'm not happy with my life!" he snapped. "I am trying to come to a difficult decision - what to do with the link in my mind."

"And making it worse was, of course, your first thought." Marie-Ange rolled her eyes. "Causing Amanda -more- pain, making your link harder for both of you, that was your idea of the right thing to do?" Pointing to the deck of cards, she sighed. "Do you -want- to end up on that throne? Is that what you are trying to do?"

"The thought holds some appeal!" he admitted. "At least then men and women would be united in love, and not have to deal with all of this stupid _shit_!" he ranted. "Why is it that I am always wrong in these cases? Why isn't it ever _her_ who fucks it all up? At this rate she could murder Miles with an axe and somehow it would be MY fault because I once said an unkind word to her!"

"Do not be stupid." It was not possible to roll her eyes -more- at Manuel. "You knew it would hurt her, you knew it would cause her pain, and you did it anyway. It is your fault because you made the decision to hurt Amanda!" Marie-Ange sat down tiredly on a side table and let her feet dangle a bit. "It is not a matter of fairness. You do not get to keep score. You are wrong because you are wrong. If Amanda had chosen to hurt you deliberatly, she would be wrong."

"Oh, now I don't get to keep score, but -you- do? How very female of you." he said with a grin, planting his butt on the piano bench. "She caused me more pain than anyone should ever have to endure, and no one says a word. I move to redress the balance, and all of a sudden I'm the villian? If I'm going to be accused of it so often, perhaps I _should_ start _earning_ it!"

"Who said I was keeping score, Manuel? I do not keep track of your private quarrels with Amanda. No one keeps score. Are you always this stupid, or did you catch it from Jubilee?" It was a cheap shot, for certain, but Marie-Ange really did not care anymore. "Did Amanda plan to hurt you? Did she make a decision to cause you pain? You do not return accidental injury with deliberate pain. Did no one teach you this?"

"Yes, she did, and yes, she did." he spit back. "And yes, actually, you do return injury for injury. That's what _I_ was taught."

Marie-Ange snorted. Loudly. "You are full of dogshit, Manuel. Amanda did not cause you deliberate pain. But then, I suppose you could not be bothered to ask her, could you? You could not be expected to talk to her, to see what she did, why she did it? That would be too much like giving in, and of course, a de la Rocha never makes the first move to set things right. It always has to be the other. You cannot be wrong, can you?" A cold, knowing smirk crossed her lips, and she turned, as if to leave. "What will you do when she is all you have and you have to make the first move?"

"That has already happened. She was all I had, and she deserted me to play third to a cockroach." he said, then slumped. "I know why she did it. She listens to you, and the others." he said heavily. "No rest for Man - for Empath. No safe place, no harbor to rest in." He then shook his head as if to physically dislodge some unattractive thoughts. "And I suppose you know all about it - how? You saw it with your cards and your dreams? You weren't there. You have no Sight. You didn't _feel_ it like I did."

Irony dictated that Marie-Ange not tell Manuel that by many people's standards, he was the cockroach. Manuel de la Cockroachia. "She deserted you? Of course. That is why she is brokenhearted now. That is why she was furious at Jubilee. That makes perfect sense, Manuel. Why did I not think of that?" Dry sarcasm was definitly Marie-Ange's forte.

Manuel snorted. He _actually_ snorted. "Half the time she doesn't know what she thinks." he retorted, but it was weak and he knew it. "It doesn't make any sense." he admitted. "She says one thing, feels another, and then goes off and does something totally unrelated to the first two. Women!" he snorted again.

"Your logic astounds me. First, you insist she does these things on purpose for no reason. Then, you insist she does not know what she is doing. It cannot be both. Either Amanda was cruel to you and broke your heart on purpose, or she is confused and does not know what she is doing. Which is it?" Either way, Marie-Ange was going to defend her roommate. Amanda was -not- doing well, and one did not fall to pieces if they went and delibratly broke someone's heart.

"Both. Consistency is not her strong suit." he said, sneer very firmly back in place. "She was cruel, she could not handle the consequences, and now she is confused. And you're just going to defend her anyway - I can feel that much fairly plainly. So really, what's the point in talking to you about it? All you want to do is something bloody and drastic to both Jubilee and I. Well, here I am. Take your shot."

Oh, he -really- should not have given her that opening. Marie-Ange dropped off the table, and scooped up her deck of cards, pulling three from the middle. "This -was- you and Amanda." she said, dropping one to her side. A couple - one of the pair male, one female, and both unclothed appeared in front of her. The male half was very obviously Manuel, down to the scar on the wrist, and the scars from fencing on his torso. The female, Amanda.

She turned the second card, and the couple changed, Manuel aging, hair going gunmetal grey, scars multiplying, eyes glowing vivid crimson. The older Amanda, blonde, with scars across her eyebrow. "And this is what you are going to become if you do not stop teking petty revenge for every little slight." The figures pressed forward menacingly, the red glow from the faux-Empath tinting the real Manuel's face and casting the room with a faint tinge of color.

Manuel shrugged, but couldn't pull his eyes away from the cards. "You are not telling me anything I do not already know." he said quietly. "Nice trick, by the way." he grinned. "You're getting better with that projection power. You keep trying to scare me with these portents of doom, like all I have to do is let people walk all over me now to avoid me walking all over them at some point in the future."

"Do you see everything in black and white, Manuel?" Once one of Marie-Ange's projections was active, it was hers to control as she wished. The color leeched from the elder Manuel, except for the red eyes, shading the entire figure in watercolor washes of grey. Not a single true white or black to be seen. "Is it always all or nothing with you? You must let everyone trod on your now? You do not see a middle ground?"

"There _IS_ no middle ground!" Manuel raged. "And right now, that monster in the chair is more attractive an alternative than anything else I've been able to think of! He doesn't let anyone hurt him, because everyone exists in a state of perfect love! There is no hate, no fear, no jealousy! I would rather be him right now than anything you can come up with! You're the seeress, but all you tell me "Do what I tell you to!" UNACCEPTABLE!"

"Have I given you an order? I am not sure I recall doing that, Manuel. I have told I think you are making foolish decisions, and asked you questions. When did I tell you what to do?" Marie-Ange spread her hands. "You keep saying that monster is more acceptable than anything else, yet you have not done it. Why is that, I wonder?" She paused, then looked up to meet Manuel's eyes, staring at him silently. A twitch in her left eye, and her face tightened, the expression casting her face in harsh lines. "Why have you not stopped me from being angry with you?"

"Have I given you an order? I am not sure I recall doing that, Manuel. I have told I think you are making foolish decisions, and asked you questions. When did I tell you what to do?" Marie-Ange spread her hands. "You keep saying that monster is more acceptable than anything else, yet you have not done it. Why is that, I wonder?" She paused, then looked up to meet Manuel's eyes, staring at him silently. A twitch in her left eye, and her face tightened, the expression casting her face in harsh lines. "You know if you change how I feel, someone will know. Nathan, or the Professor, if not Doug."

Manuel blinked at Marie-Ange as her emotional aura fractured, dissolving into messy fractals before degrading entirely into meaningless scribbles. "I am hanging onto a promise." he said quietly. "Despite everything, I still value my word. For someone who fears my ability so much, you should not tempt me to use it. Fortunately for you, I would rather you let me drown than share your power again."

Marie-Ange raised an eyebrow slowly. "Do you really think I would be so foolish to tempt you if I did not know the outcome? I understand the potential consequences of my actions far too well, Manuel. I have been burned badly by not looking ahead once. I will not be caught like that again."

Manuel ground his teeth. "So, seeress. Tell me what to do. Should I just throw myself away and beg for forgiveness, admit that my heart means nothing and come crawling back to her on my knees? Just say the word, woman. Since you know everything, and you look ahead to make sure that you never set a foot wrong, you obviously have all the answers. So tell me what to do, since you know what I will do anyway."

"Someday we are going to have a very long talk about what I can and cannot do, Manuel." Marie-Ange said, sighing. "Find an option that is not either to give up entirely or cause someone else pain. That is not my power telling you what to do, that is what I think you should do." She dismissed the figures with a gesture and leaned against the edge of the table. "Does Amanda still love you?" She thought she knew the answer to that, but it was a guess.

"Did she ever?" he asked her bitterly. "I thought she did, but she couldn't say so. Not to me, anyway." he said bitterly. "So if I had to say right now I'd have to say no, she does not. Not in the way that means something."

Marie-Ange twisted her mouth into a frown. It was ironic - Doug, whose power depended on words, needed gestures to be reassured that he was loved. Manuel needed words. It was almost inappropiatly poetic. "I expected you to be more sure of that. What does love look like to you?"

"It's a golden-red sparkle." Manuel explained. "But as so many people have taken very great pains to explain to me, there is emotions you feel, and then emotions you will confess to. Hers was the former, and definitely not the latter. She couldn't admit it, not to me, not to anyone."

"It is important to you that she admit her feelings." Damn. Manuel was making sense. That was not supposed to happen. It was not that long ago that Marie-Ange had needed to hear Doug confirm that he loved her. She was not supposed to be empathizing with Manuel. Double damn. "Can I do anything to help at all?"

Manuel laughed. Loudly. Until he nearly fell off the piano bench from the force of his mirth. "She confessed them to _him_, but not to me. Do you see now? Do you?" he wheezed out around laughs. "There is very little left to be done that has not already been done. Unless I miss my guess, she's attempting to drown herself in drink and/or use her talent to take the pain away. If you insist on aiding, you can keep her from killing herself."

Marie-Ange pushed away from the table roughly. "I give up. You are hopeless." Picking up her cards, she walked away from Manuel towards the door out to the hallway. "You and Jubilee deserve each other. Both so caught up in how pathetic and miserable you are that you give up or run away. Enjoy your classless little mall rat, Manuel." And if Marie-Ange had been brought up that slamming doors was rude, well, she was not going to tell anyone. Slamming the door felt -good-.

Manuel called after Marie-Ange "Because I have been told, at length, that I am NOT to _do anything_! Doing things got me into the Box!" He was fairly sure she didn't hear him, but it didn't matter. He didn't have anything he could do. Stand by and die a little more each day, or do something and violate someone. He couldn't see any other alternative. There _was_ no other alternative.