ArchivedLogs:Pushed To It

Pushed To It
Dramatis Personae Hive, Peter, Dusk	2013-02-25 Hive and Peter go to Hive's apartment; briefly discuss scary things people do. Then, RIDE TO XAVIER'S. (Part of Prometheus TP.)
Location <NYC> 403 {Hive} - Village Lofts - East Village
It's a quick walk from the park to Hive's apartment building, not even two blocks, and Hive makes it in somewhat irritable silence. The irritation carries up to his apartment, but at least inside he can talk normally -- no more brainstabbing! "Fucking pathetic," he is muttering to himself as he slips inside. The apartment is occupied already -- there's music coming from one of the bedrooms, Chili Peppers blasting loudly. A young man is curled up on the couch with a laptop, and glances up at the others to bob his head in a nod, though the headphones he has in probably are serving as some distraction. He is very pale, thin and tall, his hair dark and a large pair of wings -- soft and membranous and slightly fuzzy, batlike, rather than Horus's birdlike -- are curled up against the back of the chair. "Mngh," Hive says. "Right, so, end of the week. You might want to check back in then. I mean, if it's still hurting you -- this is /not/ the kind of situation you want to go into injured." The cursing gets Peter all wide-eyed. Cursing is not something Peter is acquainted with; the people who do it are either dangerous or *amazing*. He hasn't decided which, yet. When he comes up into the apartment -- and sees the fellow with the wings -- Peter's eyes widen. << Oh man oh man what the HECK why are all the people with awesome stuff in HERE well I guess Ivan is pretty awesome and -- >> "Right. Yeah, I mean -- I know," Peter says, and now he's looking down to his shoes. The image of Lucien flashes into his head again. "I -- I don't want to screw _anything_ up. But, oh man." Peter's head bolts up. "I can do so many _crazy_ things with these. I even thought about making more for everyone but -- but I don't think it'd help, because you need to have crazy good aim, and CHECK THIS OUT." Peter has been /dying/ to show Hive this. He shoves his good hand in his pocket, slides the glove on, turns -- and then there is a THWP as the gray cord *zips* out and catches a water bottle sitting on a nearby couch. *YANK* -- suddenly Peter is *holding* it. "Like that, only with BOTH hands. And -- and uh this string thing is gonna be on the water bottle for like an hour," Peter mentions, looking at the length of string that is now slack and dangling down to the floor. This does get the attention of the young man on the couch, where conversation did not; he looks up, taking one earbud out of his ear, his dark eyes wide at the sudden -- whatever that is. "Holy shit." His grin is quick and bright and comes with two sets of sharp gleaming fangs, though he looks /fascinated/ rather than any kind of threatening. "What /is/ that?" "I have no idea," Hive says, ambling over to lean against the back of the couch and watching Peter with similar fascination. "But it's fucking awesome. He uses it to, uh, fly, I guess. Swing. Whatever. There's plenty of awesome at your school, too, dude. But my roommates are pretty rad, I admit. Um." He hesitates, adding as an afterthought, "-- Is Lucien's family gonna be, uh, okay?" "It's WEB-PISTOLS," Peter says to the dude with fangs -- rather hesitantly: "Maybe I should come up with a new name though because they totally aren't, like, pistols. I mean you don't _hold_ them. And yeah Ivan is really awesome he controls spiders. Also Shane and Sebastian are basically sharks I mean that is..." Focus, Peter. He sucks in a breath and just shuts up for about three seconds. "I--don't know," Peter says, and now his cheeks are a bright red. "They've been through -- it's really terrible," and now an image of Desiree flashes through Peter's head, and his cheeks burn even brighter, and his thoughts are confused and angry. "But... I don't think -- I don't think I've made things _worse_," he finally says, and when he says it, there's a rush of relief in his head. "I mean, beyond maybe saving one too _many_ people." When Peter says that, he blinks -- as if shocked that he would even say such a thing. "But, um, I think -- they've been dealing with this for a while. I think -- if they're not going to be okay, they were never going to be okay to begin with? If that makes... sense?" "I dunno," says the vampire bat, "they still shoot, yeah? So pistols. You in school with the twins?" He gestures down to the floor below them -- or, presumably, the apartment below them -- with one wingtip as he says this. "Oh, right. Dusk, Peter. Peter, Dusk. Mmngh." Hive folds his arms over the back of the couch. His cheeks puff out, and he exhales slowly. "That's pretty shitty," he says, blandly. "Lucien's a hard guy to peg. I figured he had shit to deal with but I didn't know --" His head drops to rest on his arms. "Shit. Maybe I should talk to him. We're not really /friends/, though. Maybe Jax can talk to him," he says, more wry, "Jax is everyone's fucking friend. -- You need a ride back to school, kid? My roommate has that zipcar shit. I could give you a lift. Might even make curfew." "Hello, Dusk! And yeah, the twins -- they're -- oh, right," Peter says, and he looks surprised as he glances down. This is... one of the few times he's come into this apartment through the front door. Rather than the fire escape. He _almost_ forgot it was even the same place...! At the mention of getting Jackson to talk to Lucien, Peter's eyebrows knit together. His thoughts are a tangle; there's frustration, there, but something else. "I don't... know if talking to him would help him. I think -- I think if he wanted to talk about it, he'd talk about it. I think he is just..." << scary. Holy wolfspiderjesus I am scared of him why am I so scared of him >> "...he was ready to let her die in a fire. I had to talk him into _helping_ me carry her out. And I think he only did it because he was afraid _I'd_ die if he didn't." << what would I have done if he _had_ walked away? Crap I have no idea I don't even want to think about that >> "And... and the worst part is... I guess -- I guess I understand why? He was willing to do that." << I think that's why he scares me. Because I dunno what I would do if I were in his shoes. I'm scared I might do the same thing. >> Peter's mind meanders for a little longer before he shakes his head: "I think Lucien... I think if anyone can handle this, I think he can. I think -- I think we should leave it alone. If there's something somebody can do to help him I think he'll just... ask." Then: "OhGod curfew RIGHT. Ohman yes I would _TOTALLY_ love a ride." About a complete 180 from Peter's whole bafflingly-long scary-music internal monologue. Hive looks at Peter with a rather more serious expression, his earlier irritation vanished into plain thoughtfulness. "People'll do all kinds of shit when they're pushed to it," he says, slowly. "Sometimes horrible. Sometimes amazing." "Sometimes a little of both," Dusk says, with a downward twist of his lips. "Sometimes a little of both," Hive agrees grimly. "And you /won't/ know. Until you're in a place like that. And I guess then you'll do what most people do. Do what you have to to survive. Or protect the people you care about." He pushes off from the couch, heading into the music-filled bedroom but emerging a moment later with a credit card-sized card in hand. "Be back in an hour -- and change," he says to Dusk, who waves a wing in return. Dusk hasn't put his headphones back in yet, still watching Peter thoughtfully as Hive heads to the door. "I... yeah," Peter agrees hesitantly, an image of Jackson's shield swelling up over the mutant with quills in the park. And then, Eric giving him the ticket -- Jackson tearing it in half. His fingers flex. "I guess, um, you don't know." And Peter is thinking, now. He's trying to mask his thoughts. But he's not very good at it. He's wondering, suddenly -- he's already thought about whether or not any of the _good_ guys might die on the raid. But he hasn't given much thought to the other end -- whether or not any of the _bad_ guys might die. Whether or not it might come to a point where it's either kill or be killed. And if he goes, if he'd be one of the people making that sort of decision. The thought makes him antsy. He doesn't want to dwell on it. He suddenly smiles at Dusk, and mumbles: "Your wings are really cool," he tells him -- and then he darts on after Hive to follow.