Fishion Impossible
Interactions: Dorien, Alastor, Tommy, McKearney, and Aster @Elle Joyner
It was too soon. Aster was relatively sure that A.) Alastor Grey was out of his damn mind and B.) wanted her dead in the ground. Because it was too damn soon. The very thought of a mission made her want to vomit out her guts. The idea that she was actually being green lit for one was madness, and it took every ounce of courage, strength, resolve for her to even show up. The alternative, she was sure, would be far messier… but hell if it wasn't tempting.
Her knee bounced… quaked with anxiety as she waited for her part in the little task-at-hand, her fingers knotting and unknotting together, twitching nervously. She'd had to leave the jacket at home. A part of her hated how it had become something of a security blanket over the last two weeks. She felt a connection to Dorien that she couldn't explain. It was inherent. An instant reassurance, and it scared the hell out of her. But if it wasn't a comfort, too… Yet a stylish jean jacket wasn't exactly appropriate attire for something of this caliber.
Chewing on her thumbnail, her eyes flickered to the clock on the wall…
Almost show time.
Tommy was there first. He was the boy that helped to start it all, by fetching Aster that day just over two weeks ago for Mr. Grey. His clothes fit a little better this time around, though they were still a little large. Part of it seemed to be his build, which was altogether skeletal and boney in nature. He seemed bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at this particular hour of the evening. Despite his angular features, his face was boyishly soft at the edges and he gave Aster a wave.
"Hello, Miss Aster," he greeted cheerfully, as if somehow unaware of what exactly would be happening tonight.
Then there was Dorien. He was dressed simply and warmly, mostly in black, though this hoodie was old if the fading at the sleeves was anything to go by. He pushed up his round, silver rimmed glasses by the bridge before seeing Aster and smiling.
"Hey, Flower Girl," he greeted, though a little more somber. He knew what was happening tonight, and he was a little distracted by the humming in his bones and the back of his head that was screaming '
Find them! Find them!'
At last, there was Alastor. His appearance was unchanged, the same as ever. He was silent as he slipped into the room for the game plan. He'd allowed Aster time to settle in, to get attached to new conditions. In the meantime, he'd had Dorien locate their target for tonight. Now, he had to remind Aster of the price to pay. He was silent for a good few moments more, simply taking in his small crew. With this crew, though, he could do incredible things.
Miss Aster. God.
Her eyes flickered to Tommy and she tried to smile at the boy, but just the sight of him always made her chest hurt. He was too young. Too small. Too fragile to be taken advantage of by someone like Grey. They all were… but hell if they could get out of it, now. And a small part of her, a twisted part of her brain she could never quite tame didn't even want to.
Her eyes flickered to Dorien when he entered and she returned the smile this time, strained, and she nodded her head, "Fish…"
And then the man of the hour arrived and her heart cinched up into her throat. She couldn't look at him, but she was pretty sure his eyes were on her, and swallowing, trying to force down the lump, she tipped her head, "...So… Walk me through it?"
Alastor smiled briefly at the three before him, a small part of him also pleased that Aster spoke to him first. Good. An ability to take initiative was always favorable, especially if he was ever to build something more in this group than just fear.
"It's relatively simple," he started, staying standing even after Dorien had taken a seat. "We have a client that has had...a few mishaps with our target. Unpaid debts and generally cutting corners where corners shouldn't be cut. We're simply there to collect on the debt we've reminded him of before. It should be quick and clean, in and out, if all goes well. That said, be prepared for a fight." He didn't need to mention the exact nature of the man's debts or what he might take if money wasn't suitable. Only that there was a job to be done. After all, every good relationship had a bit of trust, and this was the perfect time to start building it with his newest crewmate.
"Dorien will get us there, Tommy will get us in, and you are currently on standby, Aster. I want you to get a feel for what we're doing tonight. Consider this your training period," Alastor continued. "All you need to worry about is one thing. Don't let him escape. We'll handle the rest tonight." He grinned with teeth bared, and it looked more like an animal's snarl than something human. Soon, it would be time to collect that debt.
Don't let him escape...
No pressure. She was sure. Looking between the three, Aster nodded weakly, and her hands still knotted together, she pushed herself up to her feet, "Right. Sounds like a fun evening for all. We ready to get out of here?" ...She wasn't.
She wasn't remotely ready.
Dorien took a breath. Despite the insistant tug on him, he really didn't want to seek out this target. They'd gone to see him before, to give the warning. This time, they happened to be all out of warnings. He then stood. "Ready as I'll ever be," he commented, giving her a reassuring smile. This should be over quickly enough. In and out.
Alastor nodded, starting to move towards the door before seeming to remember something. "Oh, and I almost forgot. You'll see Dorien's eventually, but for now… Tommy, show her who you are." He then slipped out the door, with the unspoken demand that they follow him.
Tommy grinned at Aster, still soft, childish, and innocent. Then the world seemed to shift a little, and the details of his appearance changed. He was not so soft or so sweet. That innocent doe-eyed smile was crueler, tilted into a near smirk. He looked a bit older than he had before. Still young, but not as young or naive as he'd made her perceive him. Oh, how he loved shaping the world to his whim. How better than to do that when you manipulated perceptions, and the world suddenly saw you as so small and sweet? Tommy had a short answer for that; there was
nothing better than that. No one could say no to his sweet face, after all. And that was how they were going to pay their dear new friend a visit. They'd just walk through the door.
It should've surprised her more, watching Tommy grotesquely transform from Beaver Cleaver to… well… to Guy with a Cleaver. Yet somehow, she was all out of shock. The world never stopped kicking them when they were down. Eyes shifting from the little snotrag back to Dorien and shaking her head, she sighed, "Fantastic."
The remark came without a trace of sincerity, and her eyes rolled as she started for the door. Hell if she just wanted to get this over and done with all the more, now.
"Yeah," Dorien said, casting a look over at Aster. He then lowered his voice. "I tend to keep my distance from him," he added. Which he did. The way Tommy used his powers never stopped creeping him out, because while he knew the kid's morality was closer to Alastor's, sometimes that sweet smile caught him off-guard too. It took a lot to remember that Tommy was never as he seemed.
Dorien followed along, trailing the back of the pack of what was now a group of four, as they walked through the building to their ride that was waiting just outside.
If her enthusiasm had been lacking before, it was absolutely gone by the time Aster followed their fearless leader outside. She felt like throwing up again, and not just because of the nerves, but because it occurred to her in the moment Tommy began to shift, not only how easy it was for someone to get one over on her… but how much Alastor had appeared to delight in the idea. All she wanted was to crawl into bed with a box of Reese's Pieces and watch reruns of bad 1980s flicks, and pretend this entire disaster never happened.
"Let's get this over with…" She half muttered to herself.
Dorien gave her a sympathetic smile, though he doubted she'd see it with him currently tailing the group. Still, it couldn't be easy, with only knowing the bare bones of what she was about to walk into. He supposed it was time to see if she really still thought he didn't belong here, with Grey. He'd been here years already. What if it was too late to turn back now?
This was what was on his mind as they all slid into the black, nondescript car. Something that would end up parked away from the building where law enforcement wouldn't look first. The ride passed in relative silence, however uneasy it may have been for the passengers. The main exception to that was Alastor, who seemed perfectly at ease even as the others psyched themselves up for what was to come.
Aster's expression as she sat in the car shifted… hardened. If she was going to do this… if she was going to make this work, and not fall apart completely, then she needed to be completely and absolutely focused. Memories flickered in… memories that made her stomach twist into knots and her chest tightened. This wasn't where she wanted to be. This wasn't what she wanted to do…
By the time they arrived at the building, she felt nothing of the nerves, of the anxiety that had started to creep in. Aster
was focus. She was ready for whatever game Alastor Grey wanted to play. If this was how she was going to make it through this mess… if this was how she was going to survive, so be it. She'd survive. She always did.
The car pulled into a parking lot a little ways off from the condo. One by one, the members of Alastor's crew slid out from the vehicle to face the building in front of them. Dorien dropped back as Tommy took the lead. Alastor calmly checked the ammo of his gun as he crossed the parking lot, metallic clicks sounding through the air before he holstered his weapon once again. Better to be ready, though he had intentions to use other weapons before he raised the gun.
Dorien's bones were all but humming. His powers knew he was close, knew that who he'd tracked down was just inside, completely unaware. It tugged him forward, despite his desire to stay put.
Tommy strode up to the doors, careful to not leave the group with him too far behind. His appearance shifted a bit once again. He was once again doe-eyed and innocent looking, though there seemed to be an added urge to just look away from him. He wasn't important. He wasn't noteworthy. All was well. Tommy continued to the door, the others close behind, and simply slipped right through. Even as scanners went off, anyone that happened to look Tommy's way had their gaze slide right over him. The effect would last until the boy passed by. So he stood still in the lobby, completely still. They had a limited time frame, because sooner or later, the police would arrive. The plan was to be out before that even happened. In the meantime, Tommy would make sure there wasn't any extra havoc following them.
Time seemed to pass more swiftly, once they had walked through the doors. In her mind, she tried to go over the notion of what she was about to do. It wasn't like it was the first time… it wasn't even the worst thing she'd done. Not by a long shot. All she had to do was scare a man into following through with something he'd already agreed to… A little intimidation never hurt anyone, right?
What the hell did a soul cost nowadays, anyway?
The police would take their time - the scanners weren't what they used to be, with RIEF in a ditch, and more mutants than ever swarming the streets around the world. They wouldn't jump the gun to rush to the apartment, and with hope, their quartet would be in and out, done with their errand before it became something they needed to worry about.
The door to the apartment was the last obstacle, and that was handled swiftly enough with a sturdy knock. When it opened, the man on the other side met their appearance with what could only be described as pure shock, followed by what was a moderate attempt to appear amiable.
"Ah… d...didn't think you'd be stopping by, tonight. Damn…" A nervous laugh escaped, as he kept one hand on the door, almost like he were weighing the consequences of slamming it on them.
"Sounds like you haven't done a whole lot of thinking, period… We're here to collect. Let's not make this more uncomfortable than necessary, yeah?"
Alastor rested his hand on the door, gripping it around the edge as a warning and to keep it open. The door wouldn't be closing on the group tonight. The man had his chance before now to deal with the problem. Now they were about to be his problem. He couldn't help but wear a slightly pleased smile as Aster took a bit of initiative, directing said look at Aster form the corner of his eye. She seemed eager. Whether it was to do the task at hand or to get it over with didn't matter, ultimately. The cooperation was a good enough start.
"I find that hard to believe," Alastor told the man, leaning in just a touch further in the doorway, though his cold smile was ever present. "I told you we'd be dropping by again, to check and make sure you're not trying to skip out on anything. You heard her. It's time to pay your debts. How about we have a civil conversation about this though, inside your home?" He tilted his head, his words more a command than a request.
Dorien hung back for the moment, watching the scene unfold. Once the door opened, his head started buzzing. His ears popped and then suddenly, there was peace. The tug at his bones had stopped. He stood before the target now, and his powers eased at finding his target at last. Now, hopefully the guy would cooperate.
The look Alastor gave her sent an uncomfortable chill down her spine. She didn't want it. The value. The pride. And yet, she couldn't help the tiny twinge of validation. What a fine friggin line it was between sanities…
"C...course. Right. That… that was tonight. Just slipped my mind is all. You… you got some new help? She's a beaut, sir. Heh. C...come on in." He stepped back far enough to allow them entry, and with an uneasy sensation trickling into her stomach, Aster inched over the line, across the threshold.
The movement came before she could anticipate it. The man's hand shot out and curved painfully tight around her wrist as he yanked, nearly pulling her off her feet. He spun her back the way she'd come and another arm clamped tightly around her neck. So much for civility.
"N-now let's not do anything r-regrettable!" The man hissed, his eyes finding Alastor, "I'd hate to break your shiny new toy…"
Dorien furrowed his brow at the question about Aster. Something felt off about that. False amiable personality aside, that wasn't something that was typical conversation for them. He started to reach out to grab Aster by the wrist, to let Alastor go first, because any one of them being alone in a room with their target made him anxious. The idea of Alastor alone with him made him anxious because he'd end up pitying the man inside instead.
But he was too late. His fingers hadn't quite grazed her wrist when their target grabbed her and pulled her inside. Alarm flashed over his face as he looked over at Alastor.
The man in question seemed unfazed, however. He had started to pull the door open wider to walk inside when Aster moved and then his mark lunged forward. Slowly, carefully, he lowered his hand from the door. He tilted his head, squinting at the man before him. "And how do you imagine you'd break her? I'm curious," he questioned. "In fact, why don't you show me?"
Alastor stood with his hands at his sides, calm and relaxed. He made no move for the gun in its holster nor for Aster herself. She was one of them now, however inexperienced. He needed to know exactly what he was working with. He wanted to know if she could get out of this on her own.
The man's grip tightened on her neck, and Aster grimaced, her eyes narrowing at Alastor's baiting. Was he for real, right now? Hell of an initiation… She'd heard of throwing someone into the deep end, but this was ridiculous. The man sputtered, wildly, words that were nearly incomprehensible, and Aster raised a hand, touching his arm.
"I'll do it, Grey! I'll crush her goddamn thro-AUGH!" The scream escaped, as Aster drove a spike of intense pain through his arm, the cells on fire beneath his skin. His hand slipped away, and she shoved him backwards, stumbling back towards the door, eyes still glaring, but stinging with tears as she rubbed her neck.
Dorien moved for her first, meaning to gently pull her back from where their target could grab her again. That was too close to something going wrong, no matter the games Alastor liked to play.
Alastor cast another look at her, seeming to take note of the way she rubbed her throat. There was a reason people knew not to touch what was his. He made sure they remembered. So, as soon as she was safely behind him with Dorien, he stepped into the room.
He wore a grin that was menacing in the way it was directed at the man in front of him. There was no mercy in that smile. None at all.
"It seems that you have a problem with sticky fingers, McKearney," Alastor commented, reaching into his pocket. "It got you into this mess, and now they've made you an even bigger mess. You are a thief. The things that make a thief don't necessarily make a killer." He paused just a moment. "That's the difference between you and I. I'm going to do you a favor, though, that I think fixes both problems here. For every second that you held her throat, I'm going to take one of those sticky fingers off your hands." He seemed to chuckle to himself, as he pulled a blade from his pocket and flicked it open. "For your sake, I hope you have some left to call the paramedics with."
The worst drove a spike of terror through Aster, as she gripped tightly to Dorien's arm. The threat Alastor issued made her stomach churn, and the thought of seeing it… watching it happen sent acid burning up her esophagus. She wanted to tell him to stop, to beg him not to, and she might have, if her throat wasn't throbbing already… if she wasn't half terrified that he'd turn the threat on her instead.
Turning away, breathing in tightly, her eyes burning worse than before, she dropped her head to Dorien's shoulder.
"It's alright," Dorien assured Aster, pulling her closer to him in a hug. "You don't have to watch." He held her close, rubbing soothing circles on her back. He himself looked away, not keen on watching his mentor at work.
The deed was done rather quickly, as soon as Alastor restrained McKearney. Alastor let go of McKearney once was done, a few digits missing from both of the other man's hands. He quickly went through the apartment, searching for anything of value. His client expected the debt to be repaid, one way or another. Hopefully said client wouldn't mind a few blood stains. He was sure he could clean it from most of the valuables he gathered anyway. Once he was sure that he had enough to ensure his client's satisfaction, he washed his hands and the knife calmly in the sink. Then he made his way to the door, leaving McKearney to bleed.
Hearing it was almost as bad as seeing it, and Aster wasn't entirely convinced she wasn't going to pass out. Her grip on Dorien tightened, almost bruising, and she burrowed so deeply into his chest, she might as well have been an artery. When it was over she didn't dare look. She knew if she did, she wouldn't be able to pull herself together. As it was, she felt nausea spike, and shaking, she pulled away only far enough to look up at Dorien, not even certain what the next move was… Did they leave? Was she going to have to sit in the car and listen to Alastor recount the mess... ? It felt like worse torture than losing her fingers.
Dorien clutched her tightly, gently swaying back and forth in the hopes of helping. He knew things hadn't gone to plan tonight. Alastor was pissed, but it seemed he was more pissed at their target than anyone on his team, so all would be well tonight. He knew that things hadn't gone well, because Alastor had told him beforehand that he'd wanted Dorien to at least help doling out punishment and collecting debt tonight. That hadn't happened at all.
Alastor returned to the pair at the door, concern seeming to cross his face in a mockery of the monster that had been in the condo just a few moments before. "Are you alright? It's not swelling, is it?" he asked Aster softly, gently. Things had taken a turn, and while he was sure of McKearney's bluff, Aster likely hadn't been. That was enough to shake his newest recruit, it seemed.
Aster nearly jumped when Alastor addressed her, and yanking her eyes away from Dorien, she looked to the older man with a shake of her head, swallowing painfully, "It's fine. It… I'll be fine." The concern, somehow, was worse than anger might've been. She didn't want a man like Alastor Grey having concern for her well being… Not when he'd just carved the fingers off a complete stranger in front of her, "...We done here?"
The slightest flicker of hurt flashed through Alastor's eyes, but it was gone as soon as it came. This was her first night. This was natural, and she'd come around eventually. After all, Dorien had. It had taken years, but it had happened all the same.
"Very well," Alastor said after a moment, leaning back and taking a step away from the pair. "Yes, we're done tonight." His face seemed to freeze over again, the momentary softness and concern for Aster gone. She wouldn't take help from him yet, so he wouldn't push it onto her. In the meantime, they still had other things they could put focus on. "We're heading back."
Dorien stood there a while longer, not planning to let go of Aster until she let go first. He remembered his first night on the job vividly, despite how much he wanted to forget it, and he could imagine what Aster felt very well right now.
Still shaking, Aster finally released her grip on Dorien and stepped back, breathing in deeply, forcing herself to breathe out again, even and steady. She needed to pull herself together. She needed to pull herself together, until she could get somewhere where she could deal with the emotions…
For now, pushing them deeply down inside her, she looked to Dorien and nodded, "Let's go…"
Alastor took the lead once again as he made his way towards to lobby to relieve Tommy of his duty so they could leave before the police finally showed.
Dorien stayed behind with Aster, sticking close even as she pulled away. He wasn't sure how good an offer it was, what he had in mind. He just knew that the first night he'd worked with Alastor, he hadn't wanted to be alone. As soon as Jamie had come home that night, he'd just laid there, hugging her, reminding himself that whatever he was asked was worth it if Jamie was okay. Tonight, he planned on being there for Aster, so long as she wanted him around.
"So," he began, "I think I still owe you that raincheck on dinner. Jamie is out at a friend's place for the night, so if you just...want to stop by for food for a while, I'm free." He ended up shoving his hands into his pockets, a little anxious about actually offering food after that ordeal.
Blinking, Aster glanced over to him, not entirely sure she'd heard him right at first. The offer was startling, if only because she'd been pretty sure the only way she was going to get through the night at all was by buckling down on her feelings and refusing… utterly refusing… to let them show. Yet Dorien saw through, and she had no doubt in her mind that's what spurred him to invite her over.
Rubbing her neck, she opened her mouth to turn him down, but the words that came out weren't what she intended, at all, "...Sure… Sounds… sounds good." And maybe that was the simple truth of it. Despite what she was used to, despite what her default methods were, she didn't wanna be alone.
Not through this…
Dorien smiled at her, a little tentatively given what she'd been through. Hopefully he'd be able to help take her mind off it for a while, or at least make sure she wasn't left alone with a mind putting that on replay. "Any dinner preferences?" he asked.
They made their way to the lobby, where Tommy caught sight of them and started to follow along as well. They passed through, going through the doors once again, and exiting into the parking lot to head home.
Nothing with the word finger in it… She very nearly said, but caught herself on the dark slip of humor. She didn't wanna make light of it, no matter how much it might seem like a satisfactory thing to do. No… She needed to feel this. To feel it, to understand it. Because this was what she'd made of her life, and she was going to have to get used to it…
"I'm not picky, Fish…" She said, instead, biting the inside of her cheek, "Surprise me."
"Alright, but when you get something weird, know you asked for the surprise," Dorien warned teasingly, trying to regain his sense of humor. He was always a little more off after work nights like this. Still, he could do his best. It was how he tended to deal with these things anyway. He'd have to root around in the fridge, see what he had, but he didn't plan on busting out anything crazy tonight. Tonight was a comfort food night.
The other's piled into the car, settling into the seats, even as the alarms from the scanners continued to blare. Once Tommy was out of the building, it seemed to devolve into chaos inside.
It was a chaos that Aster couldn't have cared less about. What was going on in her mind was far worse, she was sure. She had gotten herself into this, and now, she was going to have to find a way to handle it. This was her life. She had no doubt that Dorien and his sister were worth it, but hell if she didn't wish there'd been another way to protect them both from this hell…
Sitting in the back of the car, she stared out the window and fought off the trembling discomfort, fought off the stinging behind her eyes, trying desperately to ignore the vision of severed fingers that clung to her brain… The drive seemed eternal, but eventually, they returned, and she was so grateful when she could slip out of the car and breath in just a momentary breath of fresh air…
It occurred to her a moment later, however, that the night might not even be over. If Alastor had other plans, there was a good chance she was going to lose it right then and there in the parking lot, before she'd even made it to her apartment, "...That uh… that it for the night?" She asked, uneasily.
"That's it for the night," Alastor assured, rolling down his window to answer Aster as Dorien climbed out of the car. This was, thankfully, both his and Aster's stop for the night. "Get some sleep. I'll call on you when I need you." And with that, Dorien having shut the door behind him, Alastor Grey drove off into the night with Tommy in the back seat.
Dorien blinked before looking over Aster. "So, I guess you get to see where the nerd cave is," he smiled sheepishly.
Looking to Dorien, Aster managed a small, weary smile at his words, nodding faintly, "Hell, yeah, Fish. Tell me you've got posters all over the place of terrible superheroes like Donatello and Aquaman." Starting for the apartment complex, she tucked her hands into her pockets, frowning softly. The words hung on her lips, but she didn't wanna talk about it… couldn't talk about it. No. As far as she was concerned, the evening had rebooted the moment she'd gotten out of the car… even if the man's screamed were still echoing in her head.
"I do, but they're actually
fantastic," Dorien replied. "The entire apartment is just Donatello themed, for the best Ninja Turtle." He walked with her towards the complex, fishing out his keys so that he could unlock his door once he reached it. Jiggling the keys in the lock after finally reaching his door, he slipped inside and turned on the lights, holding the door open for Aster.
A laugh escaped at his words, and breathing in, Aster shook her head, "Somehow, I honestly don't even doubt that, Fish." At the door, she paused for a moment, and the smile faded just slightly as she forced away another memory… they created friction in her mind, but she didn't need to cling to them. And hell if he wasn't providing a much needed distraction. Stepping across the threshold, her fingertips glanced across her throat, slightly blotchy with stippled purple… It would fade. She'd never held bruises for long…
"Damn…" Looking around, she glanced back at him with a small sigh of disappointment, "...I really thought you were legit for a minute there."
"Would you prefer that it was Donatello themed?" Dorien asked with a chuckle. He kicked off his shoes, leaving them at the door. The living room was fairly small, attached to a kitchen and dining area of about equal size. The other side had a hallway that led to two rooms, one of them Dorien's and the other Jamie's. The apartment itself was cozy and comfortable, looking like it was very lived in. Books were sprawled across tables, a laptop resting on the dining area table. A decent sized TV on one wall, with blankets and pillows thrown haphazardly about on the couch. There was a stray sock on the floor and set next to the door was also Jamie's backpack.
On the walls and other available surfaces were pictures too. Some of them more recent, with Dorien and Jamie posing in plenty of pictures. There were older ones as well, where the siblings were younger. There were even those that must have been taken some time ago. A woman with a head full of long braids and an older man with short but extremely curly hair made appearances. In one, in a smaller frame, a young Dorien with glasses almost as big as his face held his tiny baby sister, wearing a sort of awed smile as he looked down at the bundle in his arms.
Elsewhere, there was a large canvas, slight marks in pencil on it, propped up against the wall. There was a kit of paints and brushes near it, clearly part of the set. Where Dorien had expected to find the tower of old dishes in the sink, however, he found it empty with a Post-It on the fridge that said "Did dishes!"
He glanced over at Aster as he moved to rescue the lone wolf sock from its place on the floor and straighten up the table a little. "Do you need an ice pack for that?" he asked. He'd had his fair share of bruises and they'd never been fun to deal with.
It was a home.
Despite the fact that there was little else apart from a few pictures and odds and ends that separated it from an average apartment, it was impossible to miss the nuances. This was a home. What a home ought to look like…. Feel like.
Taking a note from Dorien, she slipped her shoes off and left them by the door, and crossing the room, she moved for the display of pictures, carefully plucking up a few of the frames that sat on surfaces. At the picture of Dorien with a baby Jamie, her smile widened, and she shook her head… Glancing up at Dorien's question, "Hm? Oh, nah… I'm good. It'll probably be gone within a few hours. I've had plenty worse."
Setting the frame down, she raked her fingers through her hair, and moving into the kitchen area, leaned up against the counter, "...You want a hand?"
Dorien smiled faintly as she picked up the picture of him and Jamie when she was a baby. He gave her a sympathetic look, even as she declined the ice pack. Having taken care of the sock by flinging it into Jamie's room and straightened the tables and couch a little bit more, he followed into the kitchen. He passed by a stack of canvases propped up against the wall, each of them painted to at least some degree. The one on top was the most visible, with what appeared to be a figure in water, sinking into the depths even with one hand stretched upward.
The kitchen was a little bit of a mess too, though it was more food based than the one in the living room area was. "If you want to help, I won't say no," Dorien answered. "It'll help me figure out what to make, if nothing else." He had a feeling anything with a lot of chopping was probably off-limits tonight.
"I'm not exactly the female incarnation of Bobby Flay, but just point me around and I can at least gather stuff for you. Or… I dunno… stand here and look pretty. Whatever works." Her eyes shuffled to the canvas a biting her lip, she studied the visible work, "You or Jamie?"
Dorien barked a laugh at that. "Well, hey, you're already doing pretty good at wandering around and looking pretty," he commented, before he could bite his tongue. Friends totally complimented each other on appearances. Absolutely. Gotta build that self-esteem up with friends. He wandered around the kitchen, taking mental notes of what he had before getting started. He might have a good idea for what to make…
He looked over at the canvas at her question. "Me. You can look through them if you want. I don't mind," he added. "Jamie keeps trying to convince me to hang them up, but makes me feel awkward. It's not even like anyone would see them. It just feels different putting them on walls."
"Damn, Fish. Alright… Boy's got a little game, after all. I can appreciate that." Her cheeks didn't color, but her smile grew at the compliment, and shaking her head, she crossed to the paintings, leafing through them carefully.
"Hell… Fish. These are...they're beautiful. Jamie's right. These deserve to be on a wall…"
"Did you ever have a doubt?" Dorien grinned at her before his head disappeared into the fridge. He eventually emerged with a small armful of items.
Just under the top canvas was a painting of autumn trees. A path shadowed and cast in red and orange light from the leaves above it. Another was a painting of the night sky, trees painted in black in front of it. Under that was one of a bird with a yellow belly tangled in red string, the yarn trailing out of the picture. One of a raining street at night, neon light reflecting off puddles. One of a face, geometric shapes creating the features, before the paint faded out. Another of a pair of hands, with what looked like an imprint in blue and grey around the wrists. One of a girl that resembled Jamie very closely in a snow-filled scene. All of them were detailed and striking to look at.
Dorien looked a little sheepish as she complimented his art, ducking his head as he set a few cans down on the counter. "Thank you. And...I'll think about it."
Mesmerising… that was truly the only word for the paintings, and looking through the again, she could half envision him standing before the easel in some cabin somewhere, free from Alastor… free, period. If he didn't hand them, she'd break in and do it herself…
Straightening, she crossed to large canvas near the paint, "What's this gonna be?"
"That...is going to be a head," Dorien stated, not really elaborating on what was going to be going on with said head. "You'll see when it's done," he added as a promise.
He gathered a few other ingredients and a large pot to start cooking in. He turned on the stove before starting to get to work. Cooking was something that had become a little therapeutic for him. It was relaxing for him, and a distraction from less than savory things in other parts of his life. He could cook even when he didn't have muse for painting. It was also why he had often baked a crap ton of cookies at 3 am on multiple occasions as well. No one really seemed to mind when he showed up with a plateful, though.
"Hmm…" A little cabin in the woods. With a real fireplace, the kind you needed real wood for. And a dog… a german shepherd or border collie or something, curled up on the hearth rug. She could see it so clearly in her mind that it nearly hurt… "Hell of a talent, Fish."
Returning to the kitchen, Aster pulled herself up on the surface of the counter, watching while he worked with a quiet fascination. Painting and cooking… Not exactly skills she expected someone in his position to possess. Just went to show how anyone could rise above their circumstances.
"So, whatcha makin'?"
"Thank you," Dorien replied with a small smile, oblivious to what exactly Aster was thinking. He'd started dumping a few things into the pot, starting the process of cooking what was admittedly an easy meal. "Have you ever heard of a burrito bowl?" he asked, looking over at her.
"Um… Hi." Extending a hand to him as if she were first meeting him, Aster grinned, "My name is Aster and I live for Mexican food. If that's what you're making, I'm probably just gonna have to move in here. You'll fit on the couch, right?"
Dorien through his head back in a laugh. "Hello, Aster. I'm Dorien and about 90% of what I know how to cook is Mexican food or at least inspired by it. The other 10% is pasta." He shook his head at her. "You'd kick me out of my own bed for burrito bowl, Flower Girl?"
"I mean…" Giving him a once over, Aster grinned a little mischievously, her shoulders bouncing in a shrug, "You're welcome to stay, but uh… I tend to toss and turn."
A nervous sort of chuckle came out of his mouth. "So you'd still end up kicking me out of my bed, one way or another? I see how it is," Dorien commented. "When I sleep on couches, I tend to not make nearly as much Mexican, though."
"Wow. Demanding. Fine… You can stay in the dang bed, and I'll keep my feet to myself. I make no promises otherwise. But I expect Mexican food at least… every night. Possibly twice a day, when the occasion calls for it. And none of that fast food nonsense made from horsemeat and sawdust. That's a laugh and we all know it."
Dorien sputtered at the implication. A little flustered, he tried his usual tactic of handling things, which was bad humor. "I'm hearing that you're an octopus when you sleep," he said with a grin. "I'm trying to decide if I find it hard to believe or not that you're a snuggler, Aster." He shook his head at her as the pan sizzled. "Of course. Every night." He then wheezed, shoulders shaking as it dissolved into laughter. "Aw, come on. You mean Taco Bell, aka Toxic Hell, is not suitable Mexican food?"
"Gotta say, Fish...you… are super cute when you blush. And what's so surprising about that, huh? Just cause I'm part cactus… Way to judge." Reaching out, she nudged him with her foot, grinning.
"Aww, honey. I'm not even sure Taco Bell classifies as food, period. That's more like… something you eat when you're having one of those existential life crisis moments and need an adrenaline rush…"
Dorien continued to chuckle a little nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. "Maybe it's the fact you threatened to snap me like a pencil when we first met," he teased. His eyes flicked down briefly as she nudged him. "Nice tattoo," he commented when he saw the inked design.
He then choked on a laugh. "It's edible, but that doesn't make it food," he wheezed. "Or it's when you hate yourself and your intestines too."
"Oi… Snapping is a form of snuggling, or… I dunno. Something. Some people find that appealing. You know what? I'm rolling away from that one, cause… Wow." Blinking, she glanced down at her foot, and shaking her head, looked back up at him, "Damn. Spotted the ink. See… Now you know my deep, dark inner secrets. I gotta kill you." With an exaggerated sigh, she frowned, "I will try to make it clean and painless, if I can… Not like eating Taco Bell."
"Affectionate snappage," Dorien snorted before laughing harder. "Yeah maybe stepping back from that one is a good idea." He shook his head, running one hand over his face as he grinned. "Stepping back from finding snapping appealing is a very good idea."
He laughed soundlessly. "Wait, wait, what if we make it even? You show your ink, I show you mine. No need to threaten me, with or without Taco Bell."
"Oh… that's an appealing offer…" A brow rose and she sat back, "A'ight… But that little smudge down there, that's not all I have, so… You wanna see the rest, you gotta pay up, buddy." Grinning, she nodded, "Let's see it, and I'll refrain from summoning the death squad."
"I have ice cream in the freezer, if that's suitable payment," Dorien offered, before wiggling his eyebrows. "It's cookie dough." He looked over at her. "You have a death squad for a cute little bird and a birdcage? I'm almost scared to know what would happen if I'd seen the others instead."
He took a moment, pausing in his cooking, which was thankfully almost done, to roll up his sleeve. On his forearm was the solar system, stretching from wrist to elbow. It had been done in black ink, highlighted in white to make it pop against his skin.
"Hey, now. It's deep and meaningful, you brat. Not cute." She made a face, but there was no indication in it that she was remotely serious, and as he rolled up his sleeve, it was forgotten almost immediately. Reaching out, she took his arm in her hand and with her other, traced the curves of the planets with a small, slightly impressed nod, "Sweet… Maybe I need to start calling you Spaceman, instead." Looking up at him, she grinned, "Nah. Fish works so much better. Ice cream, huh? I guess it's a satisfactory trade."
Hopping off the counter, she pulled her collar aside to show the inked lines that ran from the edge of her right collar bone, to her shoulder, and further down - a roughly sketched dandelion flower, the bits of fluff floating off in varying directions, "Got this done a few years ago… Kind of just like the cage, you know? A reminder that no matter what, I can be free whenever I want. Nobody owns me."
Then pausing to straight her collar, she pulled up the edge of her shirt to show the upper ledge of her outer-left rib cage, and in scribbled cursive, the words 'What doesn't kill you makes you stronger'.
"This was my first… had it done after I got out of the system."
"Of course, deep and meaningful and very cute," Dorien replied, nodding sagely. His breath caught in his throat as he felt her fingers trace over the planets inked into his arm. "I won't object to Spaceman." He then laughed, shaking his head as he rolled down his sleeve.
He smiled as he watched her show off her tattoos. He couldn't help the sympathetic look as she mentioned the foster care system. He recalled that stricken look from when he'd first brought it up when they met, though that made sense.
"I like them," he said simply, looking back up at her face when she was done. "Sometimes you need the reminder, too." He tapped his own ribcage, showing he was referring to that tattoo of hers. After tonight, he figured it couldn't hurt to remind her that she'd get through this. She was strong. She could handle it, even if it meant breaking down every now and then.
"Yours are so deep, and I just like space," he added with a laugh.
Laughing, Aster shook her head, "Tattoos don't always have to be deep, Fish. Hell, maybe I'll go get myself a rocket one of these days. Just for you." She wrinkled her nose up at him, chuckling again, "Besides, who you talkin' to right now, Picaso? Who needs heartfelt ink when you got a canvas load of feelings right there? When do I get one? You gonna draw me like one of your French girls?"
"Aww, I'm touched. A rocket, just for me?" he asked. Dorien was about to reply to the comment about his paintings when the last question hit him. He choked on another laugh, having to brace himself with one hand on the counter as he buried his face in the other. He stayed like that for a while, one time seeming to almost catch his breath before dissolving into laughter all over again. He finally managed to halfway compose himself, lifting his head to look at her and revealing a flushed face. "If you lay like that on the counter, I'll consider it."
His laughter contagious, Aster found herself dissolving into it, and as he went on, she shook her head, reaching up to give one of his flushed cheeks a ginger pinch, "Don't tempt me, Fish. You haven't learned by now that I never say no to a dare…"
Dorien flushed
further as she reached up to pinch his cheek. "You know what, I'm not taking you up on that," he replied with one last amused huff of laughter. "Because I'm starting to figure that part out."
With a couple of stirs and a topping of cheese, the food was done and ready to be served.
Her laughter echoed again as she shook her head, lowering her hand back to her side, "Wise choice, Fish. Wise choice…" She wasn't entirely sure though, why it made her so momentarily uneasy to think what she might've done if he
had... It was painfully clear to her the line was blurring, and she needed to be careful. God, did she need to be careful… or she was going to regret it. Everything got weird when the line was crossed, and she wasn't going to let that happen to her again…
Looking to the food again, she grinned, "Damn, Fish. That… you wanna save some talent for the rest of us, hmm? Painting, sketching, cooking, and you're a stud? Anything you can't do?"
He nodded in agreement. A wise choice indeed. His face was burning and his heart was doing weird things in his chest.
"Uh, don't put me near an instrument, unless you want your ears to bleed," Dorien offered, cringing a little at the idea. Yeah, don't let him near any sort of instrument. How his mother hadn't lost her mind when he was little, he had no idea.
"So I'm not gettin' serenaded, any time soon? I guess I can deal with that… As long as there's Mexican food." Grinning, she nodded to the cabinets, "Tell me where the plates are, I can make myself useful."
"Afraid not. I know you're super disappointed by the prospect, but I promise, you'd be more disappointed if I did do it," Dorien chuckled. He pointed over to the cabinet next to the microwave. "They're in there."
Nodding, Aster crossed to the cabinets and fishing out a pair of plates, set them down on the counter, "Don't feel too bad. I can't play anything, either. Wasn't exactly in the budget at the old home, you know? Though you put me in front of a mic in a karaoke bar and throw on something from the 80s…? Nothing can stop me…"
"That's fair," Dorien conceded before grinning. "Good to know. I'll have to make plans for that one night," he teased before scooping a spoonful to put on Aster's plate. "Tell me when, Flower Girl."
"Oh no…" She wiggled a finger at him, and taking her plate, grinned as she brought it to the small table, settling into a chair, "You… you are gonna need to earn that one, Fish. I don't mortify myself in front of just anyone, you know." Taking a bite, she paused, and sinking deeper into the chair, swore softly, hand covering her mouth, "This… is no Taco Bell, Fish."
"Interesting words from the woman who offered to be my French girl just a few moments ago," Dorien teased. "What would it take to earn a karaoke night?" he asked, just out of curiosity, as he made his own plate and joined her at the table.
He grinned at her reaction. "Thank you. My goal in life is to make better food than meat goo," he added. "So is the lollipop debt considered paid in full?"
"Because there's nothing remotely mortifying about this…" She said, with a general, but obvious gesture to her form, "Whereas singing in front of people, well, hell, if I drank, I'd say I'd need to be way less sober for that. You wanna earn that, well… hmm. Gonna have to save me from a burning building or something, Fish."
With a smirk, she returned to her plate, "The lollipop debt, on the other hand, I think we can call that square. Mints are in my fantastically fashionable jean jacket, though… and I didn't want that tainted by tonight's little outing, so…"
Thinking about those words, her gaze flickered down and her chest gave a pang that was nearly enough to unseat her enjoyment of the spectacular plate before her. Damn Alastor…
Dorien laughed at that. "Fair enough," he answered before digging into his own food. He looked up at Aster, about to respond to the bit about the mints only to see how the expression on her face changed as she mentioned the night.
"If you want to talk about it, I'm here," he said softly. "If you don't, that's fine. I just...I get it. I remember the first night he had me with him, and I didn't want to be alone after. I get it.".
"...Is… is it always this intense?" She asked, after a moment, mulling over whether or not it was even something she wanted an answer to. It was… God, it was easier letting it be. Leaving it tucked away, inside…
"I dunno what I was expecting… And I know the guy wasn't exactly charming, but… I wasn't expecting it, is all…"
"Not always," Dorien answered, as honestly as he could. "It's typically not...that intense or bloody, actually. A lot of the time, they comply. Sometimes they don't, but he, uh, doesn't usually go that far unless it's really bad. "
"The guy put his hands on you and threatened you, and that changed things," he said after taking a breath. "Alastor...considers us his. Threaten one of us, and he takes it personally." Personally was probably putting it lightly, but he imagined she got the picture.
"Damn. Not… not exactly how I pictured him. It's like… The thug equivalent of dad sitting on the front porch with the shotgun." Rubbing her fingers, grimacing, she shook her head, "I'm all for taking care of your own, I just… I've never… I mean, I've seen some stuff… Done stuff. But that… that was something else."
Dorien couldn't help the awkward, nervous laugh that spilled out of him at hearing that. "You...have no idea," he said, shaking his head. The dad thing...Alastor took it to different levels all around. He didn't ask what she'd seen, what she'd done. If she wanted to say, she would in her own time. "Yeah, that's Alastor for you."
Looking up, Aster smiled faintly, "So you're saying I shouldn't bring boys over past curfew or anything??" It was scary. Maybe more than being a mule had been. At least then she knew what she was getting into. Going in blind… what a mess.
Dorien wheezed a laugh. "I definitely wouldn't, that's for sure. Though, hey, if a guy ever hurts you, you're all set," he offered.
"Really?" A brow rose and she managed a small, dry smirk, "Does that work retroactively, you think? I mean… not that I would go there, but hey… The idea ain't too shabby." She didn't mean it. Not really. It was terrifying, if she were honest. She'd always wanted a family, but hell if she hadn't fallen into the most dysfunctional one on the planet. Rubbing her brow, she sighed, "Do you ever stop seeing it, Fish? Hearing it? In your head? The things he does?"
"Probably. It would be done before you could finish the phrase 'let me help you hide the body'," Dorien snorted. "I don't think it's a theory I'd want to test out though." He sighed. How to word it… "No. I don't. Sometimes it fades a little, it's less vivid, but it's always there." He gestured to the canvases stacked against the wall. "It why I do that. There's too much in my head, and at some point, something needs to come out."
"Damn." Looking to the paintings, she frowned, "Guess I'm gonna need to buy some paint. Not exactly good at that sort of compartmentalizing, I guess. Thought I was, but…" A sigh escaped and she pushed her plate back, nearly empty, "I don't regret doing what I did. For Jamie. For you. But this is… it's not what I thought it would be."
"I don't think anyone's that good at compartmentalizing," Dorien admitted. "I'm just trying to get by. But hey, if you're seriously considering painting, I'm pretty sure I've got tubes of paint hiding from me in every nook and cranny of this apartment. Keep digging, and I'm sure you'll find something." He looked at his own plate for a moment, having paused in eating. "I'd be concerned if it was what you thought it would be. Thank you again, though, for what you did."
Laughing faintly, Aster shook her head, "Unless fingerpainting has become a socially acceptable artform for adults and I just never got the memo, I think it's safer to leave the painting to you." Reaching across the table, she smiled, hand resting briefly on his arm, "You don't have to thank me, Dorien. It's not like I had a whole hell of a lot to put on the line…"
"Adulthood is a sham," Dorien said, waving it off. "Fingerpaint, nerd out about Ninja turtles, become the next great modern artist solely through fingerpainting the Ninja Turtles." He grinned, looking up at her as she rested her hand on his arm. "I do, though. You didn't have to do that. You still had something to put on the line, and you did, for my and Jamie's sake."
"Ha! I like the way you think, Fish. Maybe I will. You know… once I figure out how to fingerpaint… Cause I was totally bluffing on knowing how to do that, too.." She grinned, and it turned slightly sheepish as she lowered her gaze, "Hell, Dorien. Honestly, was worth it. I never had anyone in my life who gave a damn about me the way you do Jamie… She needs that. And you need her. Just… just needed to make sure that didn't go away."
"We'll figure it out. We'll make it work. My only condition is that we learn how to paint Donatello first," Dorien chuckled before sobering a little. "Thank you. And if you ever need somebody to give you damns, then I volunteer," he added, raising his hand.
She laughed, and nodded, faintly aware of the odd twinge in her chest at his words. We. Hell… How long had it been since she was anything a 'you'. But if this wasn't what Alastor wanted, hell…
"Well, geez, Fish." Nudging him with her foot beneath the table, she smirked, "Give all the damns."
Dorien echoed her laugh soon after. "I have damns a-plenty to give," he said, spreading his arms out wide as if to show just how many. "Though I have to admit I'm surprised. No objection to painting Donatello first? Am I winning you over, Aster? Do you at last see the light?"
"I mean…" brows raised, she grinned, "You save the best for last, Fish. C'mon, now. You should know these things by now." Rising, she plucked up her plate and took it to the sink to rinse it, leaning against the counter, "Thanks, Dorien. For uh… you know. For all this…"
Dorien gasped, clasping a hand over his chest dramatically. "
Rude," he protested, "Donnie deserves better than this blasphemy." He returned to eating, finishing his own plate quickly enough before looking up at her again. "It's my pleasure," he said honestly. "And that ice cream is on the top shelf of the freezer."
Laughing at his offense, she shook her head, "It's not my fault that you've got rough taste in Ninja Turtles, Honey." Moving to the freezer, she grabbed the cartoon and finding two spoons, moved back to the table, popping off the lid, holding out a spoon, "I'm not big on… on emotional episodes. But I dunno how well I'd have gotten through all this tonight if you hadn't stepped up. Was big of you."
"Excuse you, my taste in Ninja Turtles is perfectly fine. So smooth. So very smooth. Turtle shell smooth, even," he pouted. "Also, we absolutely should eat the entire carton, because I didn't tell Jamie I got it and at some point she's going to see it." As he moved to rinse off his own plate, he took the spoon from Aster's hand. "Like I said, Aster. It's my pleasure, and the door's always open if you need me."
"Thanks. Might take you up on that, Fish." Giving a shrug, she took a mouthful from the carton, "I'm… I'm not great at this whole… friendship thing. But hell if I don't wanna give it a shot for once. Alone's gettin' kinda old, you know?"
"Everyone's gotta pick up somewhere," he said, settling beside Aster. He took his own bite from the carton before speaking again. "Yeah, I can imagine. And Tommy's not exactly great company, the little
shit."
"God!" She exclaimed, with a fierce nod of agreement, "What the hell even was that?? He looked so freaky… Some things, man… Can't be unseen. I swear, Fish, I'll kick you so hard if you end up being that ugly and creepy under all that…" Vaguely, she gestured to him.
"Perception manipulation. That's his thing. He makes you see what he wants you to see. To be fair, what he showed you? Still not him. That was him dicking around," Dorien sighed, shaking his head. "He's...somewhere in between the tiny sweet child facade and Alastor Jr." He then laughed. "No need to worry, this is all me."
"Ugh. Alastor junior. Why is that so creepy?? Taking another spoonful, she laughed, shaking her head, "And good. Don't think I could handle it if you weren't who I thought you were… At least physically." With a wink, she nudged him again.
"Because you don't expect it?" Dorien offered. He did sort of feel bad for the kid. Tommy had been on the streets far earlier in life than he'd ever come close to. This was closer to normal for the kid than it ever was for him. Didn't mean Tommy wasn't unsettling though.
He shook his head at her with a laugh. "Good news is I've never been very good at hiding parts of myself, so you're in luck," he assured, sticking out his tongue as she nudged him.
"Or maybe cause I kinda did expect it?" She sighed faintly, "He always seemed
too cute, you know? Like… Nobody that sweet and innocent would make it in the world we live in. But he never seemed to have any trouble." He continue, and Aster's expression shifted, as she shook her head, "Wish I could say the same. Unfortunately, I'm not great at being vulnerable… I… I have a hard time opening up."
"I guess," Dorien said. "I know I didn't see it coming, when he first came around. Thing is, I can't help but feel a little bad for him still. I don't think all of it is an act on his part. I just...as far as I've ever been able to get out of him, Grey was the absolute best thing to happen to him." He then shrugged. He seemed to look Aster over for a just a moment. "You've opened up to me. Maybe not a lot, but every bit counts. Sometimes it's a process."
"It's hard to give someone the benefit of doubt, who can do what he does. But maybe that's not fair. I mean, people judge me for what I can do, even though I hate it so much." A sigh escaped, as she leaned back in her chair, "And you say that like you've made it hard. You're easy to talk to, Fish. Too easy, sometimes. I find myself opening doors I haven't gone near in years, and I just… damn. It's not a bad thing, but I… I dunno. There's stuff… I just… I don't want you to start lookin' at me different, you know?"
"That's fair. I dunno, I think he's still a little bit of a shit, but maybe not as much as he seems to be," Dorien offered. He seemed to consider this as he shoved his spoon into the carton again. "Aster, I promise, I'm not going to look at you differently. I get it, having things you don't really want people to know right away. But with you? Whatever has happened, whatever you've been through or had to do, that's just part of the picture. I just get to see more of it, whenever you're ready to show me." He then shoved the spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. "Good to know I'm easy to talk to, though."
"That's cause you see the best in everyone, Dorien. It's part of your charm…" And part of how he'd ended up in this mess, no doubt. Reaching forward, she took another spoonful, and shaking her head, she studied him a moment. A moment too long. Looking down again, she cleared her throat, "...Picture starts to look a little bit like one of those wack impressionist paintings, if you get too much of it at once. Not sure I'd even know where to start…" It wasn't a shut down, however… and looking up at him again, she shrugged, "You could always… ask?"
"I've gotta have something going for me," Dorien joked lightly. He'd started to reach for the carton again before choking on a laugh. "Those are still cohesive, though. And pretty," he added. He seemed to consider this. What to ask? Where to start? He didn't want to push or pry, to dig in places he shouldn't be digging in. "What about...you tell me something you're comfortable with me knowing, and I tell you something in exchange? Or even vice versa? Just to get us started. Tit for tat and all."
A brow rose as she considered the offer, and with a small, smooth smile, Aster nodded, "Alright… That sounds fair." Snagging another spoonful, she abandoned the utensil when she'd finished and rose to her feet, "But I'm gonna need to get comfy for this…"
Leaving the kitchen, she moved to the living room and huddled into the corner of the couch, patting the cushion beside her own, "Plant it, Fish. Let's open some doors. But uh… you gotta go first. Cause I'm crap at this."
Dorien grinned, taking another bite before dropping both his and Aster's spoons into the sink to worry about later. There was still some ice cream left, but he could worry about that later too. "Oh, I think we can get comfier," he said, grabbing a blanket as he plopped down beside her. He then settled it over them both, scooting to where he sat fairly close to Aster.
And he sat there a little while. "You're right. This is kind of hard." Where to start? "Uh, I've been working under Grey for about five years."
It was a little strange just how comfortable it was… and Aster didn't think twice before draping her legs over his, leaning back on the arm of the couch, "Damn. That long?" She'd been working for the man officially for a few hours and she was ready to retire, "I uh… I started with Lucky when I was sixteen. Off and on for two years. Almost there...."
"What can I say? He got to me young. Sixteen here, too," Dorien said with a slight shrug, before settling his arms over Aster's legs. "Almost there for what?" he asked, head tilted.
"Too long…" she answered with a small shrug, "Started to doubt I was ever gonna get out alive. Still not complete sure…" With a wry smile, she shrugged, "Alright… next door."tr
"Well, you're out of that particular mess, now. By the way, how did Calvin react when he heard the news? Please tell me that angry goldfish of a man made the face," he asked, pursing his lips and furrowing his brow to once again make a ticked off fish face. He fell silent again, trying to think of what to say. He didn't want to go down all the dark roads just yet…
"I dislocated my shoulder when I was seven, and broke my thumb. I can still make my shoulder do that weird popping sound," Dorien said, quickly demonstrating said popping said as he moved on arm and a deep *click* sounded near his collarbone. "Ooh, and I can do this." He then popped his thumb, the finger moving like it were double jointed. He did this several times, looking quite pleased with himself.
Laughing, she shook her head, "Weirdly enough, he was kinda sad. I mean… he was never super great to me, but I got the impression he was gonna miss me hangin' around." With a small shrug, she sat back to watch his display, eyes widening slightly..
"...I dunno if I'm impressed or freaked out. Either way… ow." The chuckle died out a little, however, as she shifted, contemplating her answer, "I've had… three toes, two fingers, my nose, my wrist and collar bone broken. And nearly broke my leg when I got shoved down some stairs…"
"Huh," Dorien said softly, considering this. He then grinned. "Both is a completely valid answer. Jamie hates the thumb thing. Freaks her out," he continued, still looking very pleased with himself. It quickly morphed into a look of pained sympathy. "How did you manage the collarbone?" he asked, before concern crossed his face at hearing she'd been shoved down stairs.
"I uh…" Picking at a fuzz on the blanket, she frowned softly, "I was 'clumsy'." Casually, she wiggled her fingers into.quote marks, "Tripped down the steps a lot. Ran into door knobs. You know… the usual. That's what my social worker was told, anyway.
Dorien's frown of concern deepened. He hadn't faced a lot of that when he was in the system, but he'd dealt with it enough. "I'm sorry," he said softly, placing a hand on her arm in sympathy.
"All good, Fish." She smiled, shrugged, "You've seen the tattoo. Strong as hell, from it all. When I got out, I made a promise to myself… That I'm never gonna let someone hurt me that way, again." Covering his hand, she gave it a squeeze, "Don't need to be sorry."
"Maybe. Doesn't mean you should've had to deal with it in the first place, though," Dorien said softly. "If we're compiling injury lists, though…I've had three fingers broken," he said, holding up his hands to show the two crooked fingers on his right hand and the crooked pinkie on the left, "and I'm missing my bottom wisdom teeth."
"Still… better off than grabby hands from earlier tonight…." Aster noted, with a small grimace, "Sorry. That… dark humor. Next door!"
Dorien wheezed, trying not to laugh. "It's fine. I made sure not to make anything that required a lot of chopping for food earlier, and I had to not say a few things that would be in poor taste," he replied, "so I think we're even."
"The fingers and teeth were Alastor," he added, deciding to just let it drop. Better than lingering too long on it.
"Wait… woah! What!?" Aster just about toppled off the couch at his words, and in fact might have, if she hadn't been held in place by his arms over her legs, "That son of a bitch! Are you kidding me??"
"No, I'm not," Dorien answered, giving her a sad smile. "It was...There was a lot of stuff that led up to it. I...I screwed up. Bad. Over and over, and when Alastor learned it was on purpose, well…" He raised his hands to once again show her the crooked fingers. "He might act like a dad, sometimes, but he has an interesting take on discipline."
"I'm gonna kill him." She growled softly, shaking her head as she swung her legs off of him, and rose to her feet. Reason dictated she wasn't gonna get anywhere near Alastor Grey that night… or ever, but hell if she didn't wanna put her hands around his neck, "I'm gonna… How! How do people get off thinking they can just… What gives him the right??"
"No, you're not," Dorien said, managing to firmly grasp her wrist after she'd stood. He didn't think she'd try it, but he didn't want to test it. He sighed. "He owns me?" he offered. "Even without Jamie being in the picture of things he can mess with, he's the reason I've got this, for Jamie's sake." He gestured his free hand at the room around them. "If it makes you feel better, though, I gave him a solid right hook beforehand." He eased his grip, slowly letting go of her arm.
Frowning, Aster turned to him and for a moment it was apparent she was contemplating an argument. But his words clicked… and with a frown, she dropped back down onto the couch, "...It's crap. All of this. No one
owns another person." Rubbing her hands over her face, she sank back, "The hell makes someone so mean, they gotta hurt somebody else to feel big…"
Relief flooded Dorien as she sat back down. "Maybe not, but this sure comes close," he said softly. He then shrugged. "Possibly losing tens of thousands of dollars because your apprentice is deciding he'd rather have a moral code, in that instance," he said before shaking his head. "If you mean what actually made him that way...I don't know. He only ever makes passing references to stuff that's happened to him."
"He's… he's despicable. I don't care what happened to him. What he's been through. You make the decision to rise above your circumstances, or you don't. Just cause you lived a tough life doesn't give you some divine right to treat everyone else like crap…" Running her fingers through her hair, she turned and dropped her legs over his lap again, "...You really punched him?"
Dorien gave her another sad smile, shrugging, because he wasn't quite sure what to say. "I think I've been around him too long, honestly. I'm starting to sympathize with the man," he said, shaking his head. He settled the blanket back over her legs, leaning back into the couch again. "Oh definitely. He had a big bruise on his cheek for about two weeks. I split open my knuckles, but it was absolutely worth it. Now, I think you owe me a juicy secret." He wiggled his eyebrows teasingly.
"Sorry I missed it…" She stated softly, but honestly, and a small smirk formed as she shook her head. She considered what to say… and for a moment, nearly resorted to the easy humor that was so easy to sink into… so easy to devolve back to… when she wanted to avoid the hard stuff. But he'd been honest. Told her something deep, and they'd made a deal, "...I almost died, once. On…. on purpose." It was the best way she could think to phrase it, maybe because it was the only way she could get it out, "...I was twelve… and I was stuck in this… mess of a foster home. Nine of us… the sort of place they did it for the money, you know? Did it to feel powerful…" Biting her lip, she lowered her gaze, "I got tired of being someone's punching bag… Got tired of all of it… So I climbed up to the roof from the second story bedroom window… and I jumped. Didn't know they'd called in landscapers for the leaves… if they hadn't… Anyway… I wasn't sorry. Realized a little while later how stupid it was, letting someone push me to that point. Promised myself I'd never go there again, you know?"
He grinned as she said she was sorry to have missed it. Her next words then all but stabbed him in the heart like an icepick. He swore under his breath, eyes closing as her placed a hand over his mouth. Hearing she was
twelve drove that icepick further in. To feel that way at
twelve. He knew he was lucky, only being in the system for about three years before he clawed his way out for Jamie's sake. He couldn't imagine being there all his life. He sympathized, too, because he'd been there. Been in that pit and was never sure how to get out.
"Do...do you ever still want to?" Dorien couldn't help but ask. "Or was that the part you meant when you said you'd never go there again?" Old memories flitted through his head. It had been years since he'd been in a similar position, but this brought it all back like it had been yesterday.
"Never again." She answered, with a small nod, glancing over at him, "Made a promise to myself, remember? That I'd never let anybody hurt me that way… And that includes me. Way I see it, I was bitter for a long time and it didn't get me anywhere… So I don't see why I'd let myself get that way, again. Besides… Got a few things seem kinda worth my time, now, you know?"
He nodded understandingly. "Yeah, that makes sense," he said, still nodding. He smiled at her when she said she had a few things worth her time now. "Good to know you're sticking around, Flower Girl."
He had an idea of what he'd bring up next, from his own past, since she'd brought up this. It was, unfortunately, a dark road. He made a mental note to bring up something lighter after this.
"So, uh, next door?"
Breathing out, Aster nodded, and she was surprised for a moment, how light she felt. The weight she carried around had always been hers… just hers, and she'd never been willing to unload, because she'd never been able to trust that she could. Things were changing in a big way, and she wasn't entirely sure how to feel about it…
"...Yes. Next door. Your turn…"
Dorien nodded, drawing lazy patterns on the blanket as he bit his lip anxiously. How to start, how to start. "I was fifteen when my parents died. I'd...been having problems before then, though," he started, taking a breath. "I never exactly fit in, and when you're in your early teens, suddenly that means everything to you. Kids can be cruel. The stuff I heard them say before that I could laugh off, I just...couldn't anymore. Suddenly it meant something different." He took another breath, briefly looking up to the ceiling before continuing. "I don't think my parents knew what I was dealing with, the way I felt about myself. Sometimes I wish they did, that I'd told them. I think things might have been different if I had."
"It got worse, after they died. It was never that...I wanted to die. I didn't want to do that to myself, I just...if there had been a button I could press, and I could not exist, and everyone else in the world would be fine...I would've pressed it then. The kids in that first foster home picked up on it, and didn't exactly help. It was more than just the self-esteem issues then, because now it was about someone else. Jamie was out there, on her own, with some family that might not even remotely care about her. Then, here I was, feeling sorry for myself, and I just felt like a failure. I was her big brother, and I loved being her big brother. Yet I couldn't do a thing to help her."
"The thing with Alastor, it gave me perspective, I guess. The problem didn't go away, it was still there, but it felt a lot less important. I had a path to getting my sister back and keeping her safe, and when I was eighteen, I got him to pull every string he possibly could so that I could legally be her guardian," he said. "So that she would
never face what I did."
"...Damn." Breathing out, Aster reached to take his hand, giving it a squeeze. It wasn't enough. She knew it wasn't. But it was the only thing that seemed for a moment, to make any sense at all. What he'd been through - what they both had - and Jamie, too… It wasn't fair. The world never seemed to balance out, and as hard as she tried not to fall into bitterness, she could feel it creeping in…
Not for herself, but for what he'd gone through, "People suck. Like… damn. No one should ever have to feel that way. Like the only way out of it all is to turn to someone like Alastor. I dunno how, Dorien, but I'm gonna find a way to get us out of this mess. All of us. I don't care how long it takes. We're gonna get our peace."
He smiled up at her, though it was still a little sad around the edges, as she squeezed his hand. "Yeah, they can sometimes," he agreed. "It's alright, though. I'm...in a lot better place emotionally these days. Having Jamie back gives a lot of perspective. I even know the kids she's around talk about me, some of the things they say. It doesn't bother me, the way it might've a few years ago. Got bigger fish to fry," he added with a shrug.
"Thank you, though. One day," he agreed, "we're going to catch our break."
"That… sounds good to me." She agreed as well, laying her head back on the arm of the couch again, warmth seeping back into her bones from the blanket draped over her, "Alright… my turn. Let's see if I can find something that's not quite so… you know." She considered for a moment, falling quiet, until making a small note of triumph, "Oh, got it! There are very few things in this world, Dorien, that I can say without a shadow of doubt I absolutely love… and I can say wholeheartedly, with unceasing, unrelenting passion… that peanut butter cups are one."
"Yeah, we definitely need a change of pace there," Dorien agreed. He then threw his head back with a laugh. "A woman after my own heart. Peanut butter cups are fantastic, and I'm not even remotely argue with you there. Especially the miniature ones. It's the perfect highly addictive ratio of chocolate and peanut butter. I could probably go through a whole bag of those," he said, nodding all the while.
"Oh, I have. And I wasn't even sorry, after…" She admitted, with a grin, "It was right after I got out, my first paycheck… I went straight to the corner store and bought an entire bag, and didn't stop till it was an empty wasteland of tin and paper cups." Leaning back, she let her eyes drift shut for a moment, surprised by how easy it was to relax in that moment, "...You're turn. Next door."
"The best kind of wasteland to have, so long as you're the one who made it," Dorien said with a grin of his own. "I think...anything orange flavored has a special place in my heart. Lollipops, jellybeans, those little sugared orange candies that so many old guys apparently just have in their trucks, actual oranges. One of these days, I'm going to eat so much of it I'll actually turn orange."
"That explains a lot…" She nodded, without opening her eyes, as if he'd revealed one of the great mysteries of the universe, "You smell a little like citrus, sometimes. It's nice…" Breathing in, releasing it slowly, she took another long moment to think, "I have never been… to a movie theater. Not ever. Just never got around to it…"
"That might be because I accidentally bought citrus soap and just never went back. I want to smell like fruit now, damnit, not like a middle schooler that doesn't shower," Dorien chuckled. He tilted his head. "Really? My parents smuggled me in once, don't ask how, because I don't remember the details. But...it's nice. The huge screens, the sound coming from all walls. It's an experience, too, though, sitting in a room with a bunch of people seeing the same thing," he said, leaning back. "I'll have to see if I can get us in sometime."
"Nothin' wrong with smellin' like fruit salad, Fish. I did say it was nice…" With another soft sigh, she shifted, let her cheek rest against the soft arm of the couch, "But Alastor has a theater of his own. I could see him, sittin' down there alone… watchin' old horror flicks, munchin' on popcorn. So help me, if he's hoarding peanut butter cups, I'm gonna wreck the old man…"
"I'm the fruit salad man, now," he stated with a grin. "He probably used really old, bad slashers for inspiration. The ones with the bad effects that you love anyway. You know, I think you could take him, if he were hiding peanut butter cups from you."
"Nah.." She half-yawned, shaking her head, "Always Fish. And gross… He would be the type, wouldn't he. Probably roots for the villain… All edgy and dark-like." Grinning faintly, she nodded, "I could definitely take him… For peanut butter cups, I'd take on anyone."
"I bet he's a
Halloween fan. He could pull off a Micheal Myers, don't you think?" Dorien said, looking over at her. It looked like she was close to falling asleep. "Duly noted. Don't hide peanut butter cups from you."
"Ugh. He might actually
be that creeper. Who enjoys choppin' off people's fingers? Whose brain works that way? 'Hm… Think I'll just carry a knife around with me and chop off some digits, today. And then, maybe a scone.'" A dry smile formed, as she continued, "...You better not, Fish. You're cute and all, but I can still take you down if I need to. Your turn… by the way."
Dorien wheezed, "A scone. I don't know, I think he's more of a cake man. Gotta have something else to cut into." He shook his head. "I have no doubt that you can take me. Go for the knees, Aster," he added with a grin before considering what else to say. "I'm twenty-one years old, and I've never been in any kind of relationship."
"Knees? Pssh…" Shaking her head, she stifled another yawn, "Can't make it hurt if you make it easy, Fish… C'mon now. Hasn't Alastor been teaching you anything useful?" He went on, and her eyes cracked open as she studied him curiously, "...No kidding? A stud like you? Hm… I mean… neither have I, really. I don't count Calvin, in case you were gonna ask… That uh… that was nothing I was into."
"Nothing Alastor teaches me will prepare me for when I'm clearly outmatched," Dorien snorted, "And I was kind of hoping you'd take it easy on me." He then shook his head. He'd never really had the time or the chance. Then he stopped. "Uh? Calvin? I wasn't going to ask, but now I feel the need to?"
"As long as you understand you're totally outmatched…" She teased, with a grin, "I'll take it easy on you… till peanut butter cups get involved. Then you're on your own, sweetpea." As he continued, she shook her head, letting her eyes fall closed again, "Wish I could say it was completely nothing, period. But we'll just leave it at it wasn't romantic, and it wasn't exactly… It wasn't what I wanted. Don't gotta worry about that, anymore, though. Guess I owe Alastor for that much…"
"Oh I definitely understand I'm outmatched. Peanut butter cups are going to be the end of me one day, though I didn't imagine it would be like that." Sympathy crossed over his face again as she explained. Part of him wondered if it would be out of the question for him to cross paths with Calvin again. Give him a friendly handshake, maybe break his arm. Yeah...Alastor was definitely rubbing off on him. "I'm sorry," he said softly, though he knew that wasn't enough. "Was he...the guy you considered having Alastor go porchdick dad on?"
"You say that a lot, Dorien. Gotta stop apologizing for things that you've got no fault in. Someone else being an ass isn't your responsibility." Biting the inside of her cheek, she shrugged, "Can't say I'd be sorry to see him lose a few fingers, no. I… I thought about it. More than once. Doing it myself, but… I hate doing it. I hate even thinking about doing it. That time that I told you about? The one Alastor got wind of? That… I still have nightmares about it. For all Cal's deserves, I don't think anybody deserves that…"
"I guess I do. I feel bad that I can't do more, though, to help, and that's why I say it," Dorien answered honestly. His brow furrowed, a frown on his lips. "You're going to have to hear it again, because I'm sorry, that you have to deal with that." He gently laid a hand on her arm in reassurance.
"...How a guy like you wound up goin' twenty-one years on his own… You're a enigma, Dorien." She mused, with a small smile, covering his hand with her own. Her eyes closed again, and she shifted, curling into the couch, "Keep talkin'... I'm listenin'. Just… just resting my eyes, yeah?"
"Take a wild guess, Flower Girl. I'm a little weird, you know," Dorien replied with a smile of his own. "Okay. My turn for opening doors, since I learned Calvin's an even bigger dickhead from you?"
"People are dumb…" she hummed softly, "Open… those doors." Another yawn, and she curled her hands beneath her cheek.
Dorien smiled over at her, carefully fixing the blanket so that it covered her fully. "I started painting when I was really little. Always a lot of little doodles on the fridge. I didn't start painting on canvas until I was about eighteen though," he rambled.
Breathing in, Aster made a soft noise, somewhere between agreement, and the encouragement for him to continue…
"I wasn't lying that I painted to get stuff out of my head. There's a lot more than just the ones in the kitchen, though. I have one, with an alien making a peace sign," he continued. "Some of them are kind of dark, some of them are just something I saw, and some of them are dumb. But each and every one of them means something to me."
There was no sound that time, except for the soft hum of Aster's breathing.
Dorien smiled softly, propping up his head with one arm. He'd probably wake up sore in his neck and back, but he was pretty sure it was worth it. So, after sitting there a little while, he too slowly drifted off to sleep.